#i have a tendency to make make purchases calls

[arinmoss]

also i still have yet to try to use a recovery image for my surface but even if that does work (though unlikely since i cant even enter the bios) i still think i should try and get a more dependable laptop. truly didnt realize just how shit microsoft surface pros were -_-

[anastasiabowe]

" WATASHI WA STAR! "

✩ɞ You're a fucking star. And they want a taste of it.

cw. MDNI, [SEPERATE] fan (except Nanami) (Toji, Nanami, Choso, Geto) with celeb reader, female implied reader, mild stalking, POC implied reader (specifically African/African American, but not secluded to such), semi-public sex, caught sex, piv, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected, creep tendencies, squirting. (Ps. Not too much on perspective shifts, I low-key was fighting demons trying to stay on 3rd person perspective but I gave up..sorry..)

wc. 6,776

TOJI FUSHIGURO ☆ backstage pass.

It wasn't every tour you offered such an amazing type of pass for your millions of fans. The back stage pass. You avoided it, you didn't like the idea of people looking at you from behind stage, getting in the way between songs, or even abusing the opportunity. But, when your team pointed out how much money you could make, how this could boost your morale, how could you refuse?

When it was announced that you were offering such a deal, the amount of people who made posts, videos, tweets about it, the amount of people that pleaded in your dm's about you saving them a ticket was overwhelming to say the least. It was mère weeks of the constant buzz about the special pass that was limited to 3 people. The seconds felt like minutes, the minutes felt like hours, the hours felt like days for all the fans who would be coming to your Japan show that was in a couple of weeks.

Launch day was terrifying. The second the tickets went for sale, Ticketmaster crashed from the amount of people trying to fight and pay their way to the special pass. After it was fixed, and the many apologies given from yourself and your team. The first 5 were sold. But so were the 200,000 open seats that very day. Was it record breaking? Nearly, did it break headlines? Definitely.

That was a few weeks ago. Now it's the day of your concert. You weren't nervous, you've done this for years, I mean how could you be? The thing you were slightly anxious about was the 3 fans who'd be backstage with you. They aren't only back stage, they get free food, a meet and greet with you, back stage seats to watch you perform, and they get to listen to your unreleased single before anyone else. What if they were creepy old men who want to hurt you? What if they had a bomb, or gun, and wanted to kill you? Those thoughts ran through your head as someone knocked on your door.

"Y/n? Backstage pass holders are here. It's time for you to greet them." Your manager called through the door*

"Alright, thank you." You shook the nerves and opened your dressing room, following your manager out to the empty foyer except for the single man standing there.

You approached the smiling man. He wore nothing but black, but you could see the small logo of your logo on the left side of his all black shirt, under his leather jacket. It was clearly your merch.

"Hello." You spoke to the man. You studied his face as you spoke. He wasn't half bad looking. He was taller than you, he had well defined muscles under your merch, and he had a scar on his lip. He smirked and looked down at you.

"Hey, princess." He said too casually. You frowned at the nickname, unsure how to feel about it. Your mind didn't like it, but the butterflies that filled your belly proved otherwise.

"Is it just you?" You asked, looking behind him. He chuckled and looked behind and around himself.

"Guess so," he smirked. "Guess it's just you and me backstage." You frowned even more. Damn, now you have to entertain him for the "meet & greet" portion, and after the concert for when he hears your unreleased song. It's going to be a long night.

"Okay, well, thank you for purchasing the backstage pass. You'd be the first to enjoy the luxury." You said plainly, trying to fight the fact the longer he looked at you, the more shy and flustered you felt. Okay, you were lying. This man is hot. You imagined things about him you shouldn't..like how his scar might feel on your-

"princess?" He waved his hand in front of your face, chuckling. "There she is." You blinked and looked up at him. God, why does he have to call you that? It makes you even more flustered and those damn butterflies don't know how to fucking die. Did he even say anything? All you heard or saw was those highly inappropriate and fanciful visions of him and you indulging in- activities.

"I'm sorry, did you say something?" You asked, no longer slightly flustered, but very flustered. He had his phone out and looked at you

"Yeah, I said my name's Toji, can we take a photo for my son?" His tone was a bit snarky and I rolled my eyes. He had a kid? I mean, makes sense, who wouldn't want a man like that to get them preg- damnit what the hell is going on with you?!

"Oh, yeah, sure! Just a photo?"

"Yeah, unless you wanna do a video or something." He said nonchalantly. I shook my head. "no, it's okay." He only chuckled at that and positioned his phone to take a selfie. He wrapped his larger arm around your waist and pulled you close, heads touching. He brought his hand to your left tit and secretly placed his hand on there as if he was innocently trying to hold you close. He took a few more and you pulled away, trying to seem unbothered, but damn did that turn you on.

He put his phone away and smiled. He knew you were flustered. I mean it was obvious by how slightly red your face was, even under all that makeup, your ears were a little red. He could tell from the way your eyes flickered to his body as often, if not more often than he did to you. You bit your lip occasionally, and stared at his longer than necessary. He wanted you, and now he can tell you did too, but he wouldn't admit that. He continued to study your body language, and he then noticed, it was almost too discreet to see, but he knew what he saw. You rubbed your thighs together, and not because of how you stood. He knew he had you. The breath y/n was falling for him. If not that, somewhat into him.

"you okay princess? I hope my company isn't...bothering you." He smirked as he stared you down.

"H-Huh?" You stuttered like a damn fool. God, you're the y/n, why the hell is this nobody making you feel this way. Especially this quick! It's been what, maybe 20 minutes, and you're already thirsting over this stranger! Ugh! Get a fucking grip!

"You've been staring off into space, I'm starting to think all that money I paid to see your cute face was f'r nothing." He teased as he crossed his arms.

"No! No, it wasn't for nothing, I'm just a bit..nervous! Nervous for the show, you know?" You tried to lie. It was so fucking obvious you were lying. You've bragged to the world at how comfortable you were on stage and how when you performed for half a million, you were only nervous that you might slip or fall in the heels you wore, but not from the amount of people looking at you. He knew it was a bold face lie, and he found great joy in your flustered state.

"Hmm, is that so? I guess I see no lie in that." He said, emphasizing the lie part. Damnit, now you were aware of the fact he knew you were lying. He definitely knows you're into him. But you can't be! I mean all those dating rumors, fan theories, I mean hell, what if you lose your following!? You sighed. Fuck...why were you giving in so damn easily? Why was he making you feel like this..I mean all he has is a pretty face! And a pretty body..and voic- fuck!

"Uh..what time is it?" You asked, trying to change the subject from the roaring thoughts filling your mind. He laughed and grabbed your wrist with your watch on it. "Hmmm, I wonder princess. It's almost like you have a watch on your wrist." Of course he'd be sarcastic, of course! Just find every fucking opportunity to make you embarrassed, huh?

"O-Oh.. I knew that." You tried to play it off. It was only 5:30, and your concern starts at 7. You had maybe an hour left with him alone before you had to be brought back into your dressing room to get ready for your concert. He continued his grip on your wrist, and that's when he did it. He pulled you to him. Right in the middle of that empty foyer.

"you know princess, I paid a whopping $2000 for this backstage pass. It wasn't easy getting the pass. And it certainly wasn't easy making sure I was the only one you'd be seeing tonight, so I think I should make it worth the money, don't ya think?" He smirked as he said that inches from your face. "You got a room we can go to? So we can..chat a little?"

You knew exactly what he was insinuating. He had you flush against him. He was whispering lowly in that deep, seductive voice of his. He was luring you in, and it was working. You should be pulling away. His wandering hand down to your ass didn't go unnoticed, yet you didn't pull away. You only nodded and that's how you found yourself bent over on your vanity in your dressing room, hair wrapped manically in his thick fingers as he fucked you from behind, forcing yourself to make eye contact with him.

"yeahhh, that's what 'm fucking talking' about." He growled as he stared at your pretty tear stained face. All that damn expensive makeup you wore just for him to find a game in trying to take it off by tears alone was comical to him. Your legs felt like jelly, and the mean arch you were in was borderline painful, but he hit it so fucking good!

"ah-ah-ah!" You cried as his rough thrusts hit deeper and deeper. Your eyes rolled and crossed and molded into hers as you felt him in your gut. He planned this, that's what's so infuriating about this. He had the condoms ready, the fresh tattoo of your name, small, but visible right above his dick. He had all the right things to say and things to do to get you to the point of letting this- stranger fuck you!

"T-Toj-" he cut you off as he brought his lips to your ear in a mean smile as he stared at your tear-stricken face in the mirror. "Shhhh, princess. Just let me take care of you." He chuckled. His hand that was on your hip was now on your breast, fondling and pulling at the nipple. He moved his other hand from your hair to your neck so he could pull you up, and fuck you like that. God you were so hot. He just wanted you all to his self. For 5 fucking years he wanted you. Yeah, it was creepy, maybe just a little, but he never did anything diabolical! He put posters and pictures of you up in his son's room so he has an excuse to see your face. He always saved your photos, screenshot them from any platform you posted them on and put them into a hidden album. He never missed an album or single released from you. He wished he could travel the world with you to see you at every concert you had, but he wasn't a millionaire.

"Love this pussy, love this body, love this voice, and fuck I love you." Any person in their right mind would find his words creepy, but you weren't in the right mind, you didn't even think you had one at the moment. His words only brought you closer to your release. After a while, he let go of your tit and neck and pulled out. He picked you up like a doll and brought you to the couch in the dressing room. He sat down and had his arms around your legs in a full nelson. He inserted himself and began fucking you like that. He let out the hottest groan you've ever heard and you cried from pleasure in this new position.

"Fuck me!" You whined as he chuckled. He grabbed your jaw and kissed you, nothing but spit and teeth as he fucked up into you. He muttered things no woman would want to hear from a stranger.

"Makin' it real hard not to put a baby into you, just so everyone can know you're mine.. maybe take ya home with me, show you off to my kid..you know he'd love it, right? He wouldn't let you go, oh no he wouldn't. How's that sound? Knock you off this high horse your own and mommify you, domesticate you." No, no, no, he didn't mean that, he couldn't have. But of course, you didn't reply. You brain was mush. All these words did were turn you on to the point you came without letting him know.

"Naughty fuckin' girl. Did I say you could cum? So fucking greedy, don't know what to do with ya." He meanly said. He started rubbing your cunt, continuing to fuck you. "Since you like cumming so much, let's just see how much more you can, princess."

Stupid backstage pass.

NANAMI KENTO ☆ post premier.

Oh the actor life. Full of filming, premiers, releases, interviews, fame. You were currently one of the highest trending actresses of 2024. Next to Margot Robbie, Zendaya, hell even Anne Hathaway. You had movies, after movies, after shows coming out for a couple of years, and each a rising hit. You were currently at the red carpet of your newest movie. You wore a beautiful black dress that was tight and long. It had a draped back, that showed off your beautifully toned and clear back. The draped part hung low and perfect right above your ass, and your hair was just as pretty. It was a wig that looked stunning on you. It was long, and the curled layers added to the elegance. You were currently resting your hand on your co-star, Kento. He was new to the acting industry, but any movie you were in with any co-star made every actor seem like an A-list actor.

The paparazzi and journalists loved your chemistry the best. Kento was a fine man. Had good morals, spoke nothing but respect and admiration for you at interviews. He had high respect for you in person with the way he looked, spoke, and touched you. He kept his hands to himself, or at respectable places on your body like your arm, which many other co-stars didn't. If he saw your dress was slipping down too much, or the people taking a gazillion photos of you focused on your chest or lower region, he'd cover it up with his hand or body. Those actions didn't go unnoticed by anyone. Everyone praised and fawned over your relationship. It almost seemed like your relationship in the romance movie was...real.

You and Kento soon began to enter the elegant and high class theater, but before, you were pulled gently by him for an interview with a well known journalist for a well known magazine.

"Kento, y/n. Tell us about the dynamics in your movie before it's released to the public." The Australian man asked, more focused on Kento for the moment.

"Well, our characters are from 2 completely different worlds. Y/n's character is lively, fun, not as well off as my character, but she brings joy to the people around her, like in real life. She brings joy everywhere she goes. My character is more reserved, well off, and a bit more modest and stoic. Much more like myself, I prefer to stay out of the spotlight. I think it's a very common trope in most romance movies, but the plot and acting really make our movie stand out, and I'm excited for all to see." Kento said as he looked at me, the journalist and camera.

"And as for you, Y/n?"

You smiled and looked at Kento. "Just as he said, but I'd like to add that our characters may be completely different, but they fit together so well. I think we balanced each other out quite well, and as you will see in the movie when it comes out, the chemistry between them seems almost fanciful. But I think that's what true love should look like." You smiled up at Kento, and the journalist couldn't even tell if you were actually talking about the characters, or yourselves. He smiled, and nodded.

"Well, we're excited to watch your movie when it comes out." You and Kento nodded as well, and waved as you both began to head into the theater. You kept your hands around his arm as you both walked and he leaned down and kissed your exposed shoulder.

"Are you okay?" He asked as he looked at your face. You looked up at him and nodded.

"yes, I'm excited to watch our movie." You softly laughed as you both and many others including other co-stars and the bits team headed into the theater. You saw a few other celebrity friends of yours, and you waved to them, but you never left Kento's side. You both found your seats and sat down. This might be a late to say, but you and Kento were secretly dating. I mean, that type of chemistry in your movie and person wasn't just good friends, it was the chemistry of lovers. Everyone you knew, knew you and Kento were dating, and they all were respectful and quiet about it. I mean it was almost obvious that you both were dating though. He constantly has his hands on you, even though they could be mistaken for a co-star being kind to their other co-stars, you knew he was just being slightly possessive. He kissed your shoulder often, and when paparazzi or journalists/interviewers were out of sight, his hand wandered to your exposed lower back.

You both weren't hiding your relationship, but you also weren't super open about it because it was your relationship. And you wanted it to be strictly your guys', not the world's.

"I'm nervous about the adult scene." He muttered honestly. You laughed and placed your hand on his. He was so cute, it was hard to believe he'd, such a domestic and masculine man could be so cute. You squeezed his hand and reassured him. "Especially since we know what really went down."

You blushed and nodded. Even though the adult scene was fake, you both were into it, and in the real way. Kento did ask once if the padding they wore was necessary, and the body suit you had to wear to keep the movie 17+ and not rated R. They gave you the freedom to do what you pleased in the general sense of 'making love' and not anything more.

"I think it'll be a good trip down memory lane." You smiled. The director of the movie came on the stage in front of the screen, and gave a synopsis and introduction to the movie. He thanked us all and the movie began. Throughout the movie, many of us actors laughed and smiled about the scenes we were in. Ken often smiled and quickly told me about what he did or felt, or reminded me of the bloopers. I smiled and laughed quietly at his remarks. The adult scene came and passed, and you smiled through it all. Soon the movie came to an end and the theater erupted in claps. You and Ken had rehearsed this moment of where after the movie you'd each give your own person thank you or speech. We both got up and he helped me carefully onto the stage and began speaking.

"thank you all who showed up, watched, and enjoyed the movie. Me, Rayna, our co-star and movie team are so thankful for the opportunity to fill this movie. We hope you all enjoyed it, and will continue to." He continued in thanking individuals for a specific thing and I remained silent and had my hand on his lower back as spoke. He then clapped with everyone else when he was done, and looked at you as you began to speak. Of course, you were starting to tear up like you did with every premier. It wasn't an annoyance, and everyone knew they were tears from how proud you were of everyone and how you always have some emotional tie to the movie or show you filmed. This one was different though, because you found a lover through it. For the first time.

"I just want to thank Ken. I mean, I've done movies like his for years, and I've never felt this way for a co-star. He is brilliant, kind, hardworking, and caring, and I wouldn't wish for someone better. This is his first movie, believe it or not, and I'm so proud of him. I'm proud of everyone, but I'm proud of him." Everyone clapped and you laughed as he pulled you into a hug. You cried into the hug and everyone clapped and cheered.

After the premier, you and Kento were in the car on your way back to your house. He wanted to celebrate with you for the movie. There were already good remarks from critics, and the movie is already trending without even being out. You reached your mansion, and entered the cold but warm place. You got out of your dress and into more comfortable clothes. Ken as well.

You both sat on your couch and enjoyed some wine and champagne. You sat there in his shirt and panties. He in a shirt and his dress pants from the evening. You smiled as you both sat there in comfortable silence.

"I'm so proud of you, love." He finally said. His eyes were staring ahead as he took a sip from his glass. "So damn proud of you." He then looked at you and smiled. You smiled back.

"I'm so proud of you. You made this my favorite movie I've ever filmed."

"And you made my first movie the best movie I've ever filmed." He said warmly, setting his glass down, and taking yours from your hand, setting it down. He pulled you into his lap, straddling him, and wrapped his arms around you. He buried his face into your neck and sighed contently. You threaded your fingers in his blonde locks and rested your head on his.

He softly moaned to the feeling of your fingers in his hair, and gently kissed your chest over the shirt. You smiled, and settled further into his lap. He groaned slightly and gripped your hips. "Don't move like that, love, you know it was hard enough to keep myself under control when you were in that dress.

"We're alone now, what's there to hold back?" You smiled mischievously and slowly began to grind on him. He groaned again, and looked up at you, once neat and smooth hair, now messy and fluffy. His eyes bore into yours as he groaned again. You looked down at him and bit your lip with a smile. "What's wrong, ken?" You asked innocently.

He chuckled and shook his head, pulling you down on his clothed cock harder. "You know, y/n, that adult scene gave me ideas." He muttered as he ran his hands over your waist. "How it must feel to just make love..all night." You blushed at his words.

"Y-Yeah?" You stuttered as your face felt warm.

"yeah. I think we should try it again but for real this time." He smirked. "How's that sound, love?"

You felt impossibly warmer. You guys never 'made love' quote on quote. You didn't fuck either.. you guys barely made it past kissing and dry humping, so now he wants to make love. I mean, who were you to refuse.

"I would like that, ken..a lot." You smiled. He smiled back and nodded. He then began to kiss your neck gently, pressing warm but cold and wet kisses to your neck. His hands slipped under his shirt (that you wore) and caressed your soft body. You moved your head to give him more access, and you softly moaned. He gently pulled the shirt over your head, exposing your body, now only in the black panties you chose to wear. He marveled at your body, eyes never leaving your chest. He smiled, and moved his kisses from your neck, to your collarbone and below. He took his time with you. He wanted you to feel his love for you, every single drop. His kisses were deliberate and targeted. His kisses made your tummy heat up, and thighs wanting to close, but his legs which you were sitting on prevented such.

"K-Ken-..more please.." you muttered as your hands gripped his hair tighter. He nodded and gently bit your chest. "As you wish love." He had his hands on your hips as he laid your nearly naked body onto the couch. He slipped off his shirt, and undid his pants, sliding them down. "Tell me what you want, love."

No, no, no.. not this, please. You internally begged. You hated when he did this, you just wanted him to touch you where it hurt, where it begged for him. "Kennn!" You whined. He knew what he was doing! He smirked. That damn smirk that makes you melt and fold in ways no other man has ever gotten you to do. He chuckled and leaned down to kiss your lips. "I'm sorry baby, you know how I am. Tell me what you want, and you'll get it, I promise." He smiled as he almost babied you, which you really didn't mind.

"Mmm, touch me..down there.." you muttered, now feeling shy. He smiled and brought his hands to your lower stomach. "Here?" He smiled. You whined and he chuckled. "You gotta be a little more specific love, there's a lot "down there"."

You huffed and wrapped your legs around his waist. "Kennn! You know where!" He tried to act like he didn't and you groaned. "I wanna feel you in me!" He chuckled and leaned down to kiss your cheek. "Better." He then hooked his fingers into the panties, and pulled them up your legs, you immediately unlocking them from his waist so he could pull them off. He pulled off his boxers as well, his angry tip slapping against his stomach. You looked down at his cock, it was so pretty. You've only seen it once before, but not for something like this. He reached into his wallet which was in his pants pocket and pulled out a condom.

"No." You sat up and grabbed the condom, throwing it away from you both. He looked at you with furrowed brows. "Honey?" He asked confused why you did that. You now felt sheepish but you stayed firm. "I-I want you inside.. I wanna feel all of you."

"Are you sure?" He asked carefully. He was hoping you were sure of what you were implying. He had no problem with it, but it could lead to a longer term issue. A child. You nodded and locked your legs around his waist again. "I'm sure, now please put it in..I just wanna feel you, that's all, please." He couldn't say no to that cute face. Your cute body, he just couldn't. So he lined himself up, and remained hovering over you.

"Take some deep breaths, love." He whispered as he slowly inserted his thick tip. You gasped and held onto him, arms wrapped around his neck and back, nails scratching. He paused and waited till you calmed down before he slowly inserted himself. He was so thick, and long, and God did it feel glorious. When you gave him the okay, it was like a whole new world was opened. You weren't new to sex, you've had a few hookups throughout the years, but they were never this intimate, this intense. Kento cared about you and your well-being over his own pleasure, and to be honest, you think he finds pleasure in your well-being! He grunted as his pace increased and each grunt sent another deep pang of butterflies into your tummy. You moaned and whimpered into his ear at how good he felt. It was so overwhelming that a tear slid down your cheek. No words were said throughout this moment. He kissed your tears and lips. He kissed your nose and cheeks. He loved you, but he wouldn't say it until you did. He didn't wanna scare you off.

He hit so deep, and the mixture of pleasure, and security you felt made it 10x better. "K-Ken- fuck, it's so good, it's so, so, good, please don't stop." You cried as he continued his pace, increasing the speed of it slightly. He felt himself letting go, but he couldn't do it before you, he couldn't.

"sweetheart, you-fuck, you close?" He groaned as he felt himself too close. You whined and nodded. He tapped his shoulder repeatedly as you came and that's all it took for him to come inside. He captured your lips in a kiss as he fucked you both through it. It was too good, too fucking good, and you both felt it. He pulled away slightly to catch his breath and he chuckled.

"I'm hard again."

CHOSO KAMO ☆ cute stalker.

There you were. Walking through all those paparazzi wannabe's. They wish you looked at them like you did him. They wished you got on your knees for them like you did him. They wanted to be him so bad, your lover. Except, you didn't even know who he was. You never met him, seen him, touched him. It was all in his head. Choso wasn't crazy, he swears he's not. He just likes every photo, video, interview you were in, your account or not. He would constantly buy new phones from himself constantly breaking them from throwing them from seeing you with another man. He wanted you all to his self.

He wasn't crazy, he swears he isn't. He just wants the love of his life all to himself, that's all. I mean how could he not, you were beautiful, and you always look at him, every time you follow him you see him, you smile and wave at him. No you didn't. He follows you and whatever way you look and he happens to be secretly stalking you from, he thinks that's you looking at him. But, you have met, once. At your meet and greet. He was so excited to see you, and he did, but he let something slip out that got him kicked out. He said he'd kill for you. He was dead serious, but he didn't mean he'd ACTUALLY kill FOR YOU! He just meant he'd protect you. But there's been too many cases of celebrities being killed by crazy fans who have the "if I can't have you, no one will" mentality. But he'd never kill you, he wants you for real and not in the afterlife.

So here he was, deliberately walking towards you, pushing past paparazzi, and straight to you. He was nervous. The bouquet in his hands, the chocolate in his other. The large teddy bear with your name on its tummy squeezed tight to his chest, he was ready. But just as he was about to reach you, he was yanked away by a security guard. The security guard threw him into the wall yelling at him to step away. He cried out, and you widened your eyes at the contact. You pushed the security guard away and rushed to him despite the other security stopping you.

"Are you okay?! Why the hell did you do that!?" You asked Chris, and yelled at the security. The security didn't look sorry for hurting Choso, but a bit startled at your yelling. You gently brought your hand to the back of his head which was bleeding from the impact, and frowned. You gathered the flowers that thankfully stayed together, the chocolate, and bear and handed it to him. "I'm so sorry, are you okay?"

He didn't take the gifts and nodded. "Those are for you..and I'm okay.." he was fighting tears, but not from pain, from you being so close to him. His dream girl. You smiled at his words on how those gifts were for you. You looked at the bear and clutched it to your pretty chest, oh the chest that he'd bury his face in for decades. He stared at your pretty face as you talked to him. You were inviting him to eat with you, but all he heard was "bla bla bla, I love you, bla bla bla." He'd probably explode if his head wasn't elsewhere at your invite. You noticed his dazed expression and softly laughed, tapping his cheek.

"hello?" He shook himself out of his fantasy and looked at you when you got his attention. "Do you want to have lunch with me? To apologize for what my security did?" Did he hear you right?! The paparazzi was continuously snapping photos of them, but he didn't care. He nodded and smiled, with your help, stood up. You were slightly shorter than him, and he couldn't help but find you adorable as you held his hand and pulled him into the restaurant you were going to dine in. It was a celebrity restaurant meant for no flash photography or paparazzi in general. You got a table and sat across from him, your security remained at the table next to you.

"I'm really sorry about that, your head is bleeding.." I frowned when I looked at my hand which touched his head a bit ago. He waved you off, too focused on your casual beauty. He knew you weren't wearing makeup, and how cute you looked without it. You let him order whatever he wanted, and you smiled and chatted with him. Each sentence, word, syllable that came out of your mouth made him even more obsessed with you. All those months of following you did not go in vain. It was all worth it. This would be a life lesson to you all who read this, good things comes to those who wait.

You found yourself finding the man kind of..cute? He had this cute purple hue under his eyes, and his 2 spikey buns were adorable. He smiled and was attentive to you, and you couldn't help but enjoy his company. You must have enjoyed it too much, because here you were, in the bathroom of that restaurant sucking him off.

"Aha, y-y/n.." he moaned your name as you licked and sucked his cock. It was so good, so yummy. You enjoyed the feeling of it laying heavy in your mouth. He thought he was dreaming, the delusion finally winning, but no, here he was getting head from his favorite actress. You brought your tits to his cock, and began pushing them together and squeezing his cock with them. He didn't know what to do with his hands. Does he put them on the sink, or does he put them in your hair? You smiled up at him so devilishly that he chose the latter. You stuck your tongue out, and licked his tip with every up and down you made your tits go. Almost like a premature teen, he came over your tits and onto your tongue, chin, collarbone. You continued to stroke him, and licked up his mess.

"Mm, so pretty."

GETO SUGURU ☆ chauffeur.

You've gone through driver after driver, but they all weren't like Geto. He was your personal driver, went everywhere you did. He knew the routes you liked, he knew how to keep you entertained. He understood you when you complained to him. He was always on time to pick you up and drop you off. He knew how you liked the car you were in, the right temperature, whether you wanted the windows down or not, he also knew what Spotify playlist you'd be into, which was usually your songs. But also, he knew he was in love with you.

He always remained respectful of you, cheeky yes, but never crude or creepy. He complimented you, helped you into the car and out, always saying something about you being a "princess". He loved driving for you. He loved that you loved him driving for you. He knew he was a shoulder for you to cry on, and that's why you usually always confided in him, no matter how long the drive. You also sit in the front more often than not. Most people don't do that, but he makes you feel welcome in the front, and you like sitting in the front.

You soon found yourself way too comfortable with him. He practically was your boyfriend without the touching and title. You told him about your period, your cravings, your needs, desires, wants. You've talked about your body and how you love it or hate it. You complained to him about sexual frustration. It wasn't like you had to tell him any of that, you certainly didn't. You had many friends who you could tell that too instead, but there was something about him that was so inviting. He's also confided in you too. He talked to you about this girl he liked and how he wanted her. He talked to you about his hair and how he's happy you like it long. He's let you even do his hair in long traffic stops. You guys were like lovers without being official.

But you'd be a damn fool to say he wasn't attractive. You found yourself almost excited when he honked the horn every time he waited for you outside, or how upset you'd be when he didn't pick you up and someone else did instead. You found yourself staring at him and imagining how it'd feel for you to grip his hair as he hugged you, or did other activities. You wondered if he would be into hair pulling, or if he'd be into other things. It was inappropriate, it was weird, and it definitely wasn't the cause to the fact you're riding him in the backseat of your limo.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Geto repeated as you hopped on his dick. You tugged his hair as you rolled your hips and slid up and down his lengthy cock. He captured your left tit into his mouth as his hands remained firm on your lower ribs. You moaned as your legs burned, but the feeling of his cock inside you overpowered all your senses and you prevailed. You never lent up as he has came many times, you just as many. He was completely pussy drunk off of you. Soon enough, he couldn't handle it anymore and came again. You moaned and giggled as he came inside you, you enjoyed the feeling, and your body shivered at it. You continued to grind down fervently. He let out the hottest whimpers and groans as you fucked him dry. You soon came and slowed down to a stop. He held your front to his tightly as he shook from how much he came.

"W-want to taste you.." he shamelessly admitted, pulling you gently off of him, and laid you in the gap between the driver and passenger seats so he could eat you out. He let out a shaky breath as he looked at your soppy, creamy cunt, mixed with his and your juices. He pressed his nose and lips to your cunt and began gently sucking and licking you clean. His tongue slapped up every juice from you. You moaned and your legs shook at the overstimulation. He didn't even realize how good you tasted till he found himself panting as he continued to desperately eat you out. You let out a scream in pleasure and pulled his hair.

"G-Getooo! T-too much~♡!" He groaned and continued to eat you out. He inserted his middle and ring finger and began fucking you with them. You squealed and he smiled. You tried to push his head away, legs kicking and shaking as you felt your release again.

"S-Sugu-ahhh!" You shook as you came again, your juices sprayed against his face and he let out the hardest groan, cumming himself simply from eating you out. He slowly licked you clean and pulled away, hair a bit wet from you squirting.

"First time you've given me a ride." He chuckled, kissing your thighs.

"it definitely won't be the last."

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Do a human a “Solid”

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

On Xenthari it was both culturally acceptable and almost mandatory to participate in duels. They could be fought for honor, profit, social status, or for the sheer thrill of it should one be of that disposition. Participants could even choose champions to fight for them instead making the position of professional duelist a very lucrative occupation.

Lulu did not particularly enjoy the idea of dueling. She never was good with a sword and would more often end up losing, and she lacked enough funds to make hiring someone in her stead near impossible. At school she had few friends and the ones she did have would never volunteer to be her champions when she was eventually challenged to duels.

It wasn’t because she was actively searching for them. She rather liked her quiet life and avoided such confrontations that would lead to a duel being issued. Yet she was a social outcast and picking on her had been deemed a past time for some of the more aggressive students at her school. They would easily disarm her and then take great relish in attacking her.

Duels for those underage were different from official duels. One could not deal a lethal blow in underage duels. Rules stated that while surrender was a great dishonor, a duelist could surrender and forfeit the duel after being dealt one blow. Because Lulu hated fighting she would let her opponents get a blow in and then surrender. With that though came dishonor to her name and her standing as an outcast only further grew.

Lulu had resigned herself to this fate until one day a transfer student came to school.

Her name was Trisha Yulie, but she preferred to be called “Triss”. Her family had sent her to Xenthari after several “incidents” happened at her school back on her homeworld. They thought that being in such a drastically different environment and society would make her appreciate the things she used to have. Little did her parents know that the combative nature of Xenthari would only increase these tendencies; one of which introduced Triss to her new friend, Lulu.

The two had never interacted with each other until one day in the cafeteria Lulu saw Triss near one of the food dispensers. She was rummaging through her pockets and looking upset; Lulu figured the human did not have enough currency to purchase an item.

“Here.” Lulu said as she walked next to Triss.

She leaned forward and put a token into the machine and then smacked the side of it three times in certain places. The machine sputtered and beeped for a moment before a food package emerged from the dispenser. Lulu took it and handed it to Triss.

Looking down at the food Triss smiled as she gratefully took it. “Thanks,” Triss said as she followed Lulu back to a table, “was getting so hungry I started wondering if there were any horses around here.”

Lulu looked at Triss and something must have shown on her face as Triss realized she would have no idea what a horse was. She was just about to explain when a group of students came up behind Llulu and shoved her.

“Get up.” The leader of them laughed. “It’s time for your correction.”

Lulu didn’t need to see who had shoved her as she recognized the voice even before she stood up and turned around.

Ulia, the most popular student and heir to a wealthy transit corporation run by her family, gave a sadistic grin as her gang of lackeys laughed. She loved to pick on Lulu and normally she would have just allowed the duel to happen, but Triss had other ideas.

“Oi, fuck face!” Triss spoke up as Ulia shifted he gaze to Triss. “Me and my new friend here were having a conversation and you weren’t invited, so piss off!”

“How cute.” Ulia chuckled. “You let your dog speak for you now, eh Lulu?”

“Did she just fucking call me a dog?” Triss asked a still silent Lulu. “Have you looked in a mirror? Your face is so ugly it gets flagged for indecent exposure online.”

For the first time Lulu could ever remember she was Ulia’s face twitch in anger.

“I see that I need to teach our new exchange student here some manners.”

Triss sighed loudly. “I was going to give you a chance to apologize, but now I’m just going to kick your ass.”

The surrounding students pulled tables away to form a circle. Ulia drew her sword and activated its power field. The blade lit to life as it was enveloped by a green glow casting shadows across the room.

Ulia grinned as she drew the blade close to her face “Draw your blade so we can end this farce.”

To her surprise Triss shook her head and shrugged off her school jacket revealing a well-toned body of raw muscle. “Don’t need a fancy stick to beat you when I got these.” She shook out her hands and brought them up as clenched fists.

“Your funeral.” Ulia laughed as she took up a ready stance. One of her lackeys stepped between Triss and Ulia and acted as ref. “The duel will begin when I step back out of the ring. First one to verbally surrender or be rendered incapable of continuing the duel will be designated the loser and thus ending the duel. No lethal blows are allowed.”

With that the lackey stepped backwards beginning the duel.

Ulia lunged forward ready to run Triss through with the tip of her sword. Triss stood motionless for the last second until the blade was inches from her.

Pivoting to the side at the last moment Triss avoided the blade as Ulia’s forward momentum kept her going. She was about to spin her blade around when Triss drove a hard right punch directly into her jaw.

The blow was heavy enough to stagger Ulia as she tried to recover but Triss gave her no time. She was within Ulia’s guard in a flash and delivered another blow to the opposite side of Ulia’s jaw.

“Waaagh?” Ulia stammered as she stumbled back into the crowd of onlookers. Her eyes went wide as she gurgled more noises with increasing frustration but no intelligible words came out.

“By now you’ve probably realized your jaw has been completely dislocated from your skull.” Triss spoke as she circled Ulia. “I didn’t want you giving up too early; gotta lot of steam I need to blow off.”

Ulia shoved the people around her away and tried to shout something only for it to be slurred beyond recognition. She brought the sword down hard in a long sweep towards Triss but she backed away to avoid it.

Unleashing a flurry of blows each one capable of cutting through flesh, but Triss continued dodging them left and right like a prize boxer. She opened up another devastating blow to Ulia’s midriff causing her to vomit a large amount of fluid.

The crowd watched with horrified silence. Never had they seen a duel with fists before. It was something utterly foreign to them and had been taught to be barbaric. Yet here was a human who with only her fists was decimating a sword wielder.

Triss circled Ulia who had collapsed to the ground. “You want to give up princess?�� she mocked. “Just say the word and…oh wait! You can’t much say anything right now can you?”

Ulia swept her blade for Triss’s ankles. With a swift motion Triss lifted her right foot and brought it down as hard as she could on Ulia’s hand holding the sword, crushing the wrist with a loud wet crunch. The blade fell from Ulia’s hand as she cradled her now broken wrist with her remaining hand.

Triss picked up the blade and inspected it. “What you think Lulu?” Triss called over to Lulu who was standing in the gathered crowd. “She started messing with you; want me to rough her up some more?”

Every eye in the crowd suddenly turned to look at Lulu. Lulu’s mouth opened to speak but nothing came out as Triss continued.

“I wonder, how much credibility do you think you’d lose if you were cut by your own blade?”

She held the blade out against Ulia’s cheek as her eyes went wide. “Bet you’re little groupies here might bail on you.” Triss leaned down and whispered to Ulia. “Or maybe you’re more worried about what your family would say?”

Tears of pure teal formed in the corners of her eyes as Ulia tried to speak only for Triss to shush her by putting a finger over her mouth.

“If you don’t want that to happen, I think you should leave me and my friend alone from now on; else the next time we have this little dispute you won’t end so peacefully.”

With that Ulia nodded and collapsed to the ground.

“Looks like she can’t continue,” Triss announced proudly, dropping the sword in, “I think that means I’m the winner.”

The crowd parted as Triss walked back to Lulu and put an arm over her shoulder. “I think we were having lunch before all that happened, want to get back to it?”

“Ssssure.” Lulu stammered as she let Triss lead her back to their table. As the pair sat down she finally worked up the courage to say “Thank you.”

“For what?” Triss remarked as she tried to pull open the food package Lulu gave her earlier.

“For standing up for me.” Lulu replied. She leaned over and pressed a button on the package and it flash cooked the meal and opened itself.

Triss nodded her thanks and began digging in. “You did me a solid so I do you one; tit for tat.”

“So because I got you lunch you fought a duel for me? Lulu asked, astounded when Lulu nodded.

“A solid is a solid, doesn’t matter if it is equal or not; that’s what friends do for each other.”

[wri0thesley]

gift wrap - wriothesley x reader (2.7k)

you're just so excited to show wriothesley your newest purchase - but the duke can't help but think it would look better on the floor.

cw: not sfw, minors dni. reader is afab and wears a dress, corset, stockings, etc, but no gendered terms are used. reader is implied to be chubby. soft dom wriothesley, pet names 'sweetheart, pretty baby'. reader keeps calling wriothesley 'your grace'.

“Do you like it?” You twirl in front of Wriothesley, making sure that the full dramatic effect of your new gown is not lost; that Wriothesley is able to see every ruffle, every carefully embroidered rainbow rose, every neatly tied bow. It’s a complicated confection of a dress, and you had delighted in sending missives to the dressmaker with every new idea you’d had, your measurements carefully taken by the Duke himself--

(“Tighter!” You’d urged, the tape measure around your waist. Wriothesley had huffed out a noise that might be fondness and might be exhaustion. 

“You’re not going to be able to breathe in it,” he’d said, but he’d pulled the tape more snugly even so. 

“I’ve got a new corset coming,” you’d told him. “And you’re not going to complain about it showing off all of my assets, are you?”

Wriothesley had paused. 

“ . . . No,” he’d said, and he’d shown you the number on the tape for you to rush off and scribble down before it went out of your head). 

“So,” you urge him, coming to a stop in front of him and striking a pose you hope is effective. You certainly feel good in it; the new corset underneath, and the new chemise (silk and trimmed with exquisite lace) and the new stockings and new shoes all working together to make you feel like the most exquisite flower in the garden - not that such a thing is hard, in the Fortress of Meropide. “Do you like it?”

Wriothesley rests his chin on his hand behind his desk and motions you over with the other, beckoning you to come closer. You eagerly follow instruction, and he reaches out and tweaks one of your ribbons, his expression not changing. 

“So this is what you’re spending my Mora on?” He asks you. You pout at him, and the tension breaks - he lets out a gruff bark of laughter. “Yes, yes, sweetheart. I like it plenty.” 

You beam at him, and he shakes his head, an expression as familiar to you as your own hands playing across his face - an attempt to be tough and maintain his reputation, tempered with his inability to say no to you and his tendency to break whenever you exert the slightest bit of pressure on him. Nobody else could say that they have the Duke of the Fortress wrapped around their finger the way you do. 

“It’s not the only new thing that arrived in the mail room for me today!” You chirp at him, and his eyes go dark as he remembers you chattering idly in bed next to him about all of the other fripperies and fancies you were having made. 

Nobody would accuse Wriothesley, normally, of excess in anything but the amount and variety of teas that he orders for himself. Unfortunately, when it’s you beside him, fluttering lashes and sighing and pouting and saying “Your Grace, please” . . . he has a lot of willpower, but he’s not made of stone. 

“I take it back,” Wriothesley says, taking a sip of the fragrant tea resting on his desk. It’s supposed to calm him before bed, but he’s no longer feeling sleepy at all - not with the promise of what might be beneath your gown calling to him. “I’d like it much, much more if it were on the floor.”

“I only just put it on--” You say to him, teasing, batting your lashes - and Wriothesley places the teacup down and puts his fists upon his desk. That dark cast in his eye does not abate, and he uses a voice that means business when he opens his mouth again; 

“Now.” 

You know what that tone means. You take a shuddering breath, and then say to him, your own voice wavering;

“I’ll need your help. Sigewinne helped me put it on . . .” As you speak, you turn slowly, showing the row of buttons down your back - they’re helped along by both ribbon lacing and hooks and eyes, and you can practically feel Wriothesley’s displeasure emanating off of him as he surveys them. 

“Blasted thing,” he grumbles to himself, and you hear the heavy footfall of his boots as he stands up and comes around the desk to be closer to you. You gasp as strong, work-roughened hands grab you by the indent of your waist and haul you bodily closer to him. “Why make this so complicated?” 

Despite his grumblings, his fingertips are tender as he undoes the first hook and begins to work on the small satin-covered buttons.

“I ought to just rip it off you,” he breathes into your ear, breath hot against your neck. “Save me all of the trouble.”

“I just bought it,” you repeat, helplessly, as the Duke deftly reaches the lacing at your hips, and you feel the gown fall from your shoulders. His lips press against the nape of your neck. “Th-that would definitely be a waste of Mora--”

“Anything that ends with you naked,” Wriothesley murmurs, “is not a waste of anything.”

“Your Grace--”

He chuckles roughly at the title, hand reaching around to pull your face towards him. Standing there in chemise and corset and stockings and heels, aware that you would be most embarrassed were anyone to walk into Wriothesley’s office looking for an audience with him, you are nevertheless helpless to do anything but let your lover draw you into a kiss as deep and hungry as there’s ever been. 

Teeth dig into your bottom lip and you whine into his mouth, as Wriothesley’s calloused hands trace the shape of you. Where the corset makes your waist smaller, your hips all the rounder, the swell of your chest as ripe and heaving as it can be. 

“You know,” he breaks the kiss to say to you, his voice dropping semitones with every syllable, his throat clogged with want. “I’m a simple man. I don’t need my gifts to be in fancy wrapping or anything; you could walk in here in brown paper and string and I would devour you just as eagerly . . . But,” and he cracks a grin, his teeth bright and sharp and wolfish. “Well. This makes a man re-evaluate.”

He squeezes the globe of your ass through your chemise and you whine, your hands coming up to rest on his chest, fingertips curling about the lapels of his waistcoat. 

“Still,” he slides his hands up, and deftly, without even looking - like a master criminal, a master thief - you feel your corset lacings loosen, and then the beautifully embroidered garment is falling from you too and you feel your chest, freed from the stricture of the corset, spill forward to fill out your chemise. “It’s hard not to prefer you . . . au naturel. You don’t need the ornamentation, sweetheart. You’re the nicest thing to look at down here for miles. In fact, every time I catch one of the inmates looking at you I wanna punch them out myself.”

“I like it,” you whisper, helplessly, because your stomach is rolling pleasantly and your head has gone light and fluffy like cotton wool, egged on by the palpable lust in the Duke’s voice as he slowly strips you of your accoutrements. “I know I don’t . . . need to . . . for you . . .”

Wriothesley’s fingers on your chin, smile on his face as he kisses you again, gentler this time. 

“As long as you know,” he murmurs, sweet as honey. “The day I don’t want to throw you over my desk and fuck your pretty little brains out the minute I see you, call the Chief Justice and have the idiot tried and incarcerated for impersonation.” 

He does this, sometimes; says the most vulgar things whilst sitting in his luxurious office, his title obvious in his regal bearing - and every time, it does not fail to make you wet. 

“This, though . . .” He tugs at the lace hem of the chemise; the fabric clings to you, the true shape of your body without any need for whalebone and ribbons. “Ooh, I daresay you can keep this on.” 

“What are you going to do to me, Your Grace?” You ask him, your heart pounding in your ears - or perhaps between your thighs. You feel a little too out of sorts to locate it properly. 

He answers by lifting you up, uncaring of how much you weigh - all of that time in the Pankration ring has made it so you barely ever see him break a sweat, regardless of what he’s doing. The only time you’ve ever really seen him sweating, he’s been above you, eyes fever bright, hips pistoning in and out of you, veins prominent on his scarred forearms as he caged you beneath him. You find yourself deposited onto the edge of his desk, and then Wriothesley is fumbling with his trousers and slotting himself between your thighs. 

“Another time,” he says to you, in between rough kisses and bites to your lower lip, your earlobe, your throat. “I’d take my time with you, sweetheart. Get on my knees, use my tongue on you until you’re nice and wet and trembling . . . Really taste you. But . . . Ah.” He heaves a wistful sigh. One of his fingers slides into the top of your stocking, twanging it against the fullness of your thigh where it pinches just enough to drive him wild. “S’taken me too long to get you out of all of that nonsense, and now . . . well, I’m only flesh and blood.”

You gasp out his name as you feel something slap against your thigh, slick and hard and hot. You can feel his shaft pulsing even now, and you let your eyes drift down to see Wriothesley’s impressive length in his fist, tip flushed purple-red with want, a bead of silvery precome dripping onto your new stockings. 

His other hand carefully drags the strap of your chemise down, urging you to shrug it off your top half - and then your chest is free, your nipples hardening in the cool air, the soft bounce of them being unrestrained making Wriothesley unconsciously lick his lips.

He’s still fully clothed, but for his cock, and the knowledge of just how exposed you are - thighs spread wide to allow him space between them, chemise pushed down to below your breasts and up to above your hips. Anyone who walked in on you right now would see how shameless you’re being for the Duke of the Fortress, and you could not care less. 

“At least you’re well-behaved,” Wriothesley grunts, pinching your nipple with one hand - the shock goes through you, straight to your cunt. “You’re wet, sweetheart. Ah. You want me to fuck you?” 

“Yes,” your voice comes out a soft little whine. You can’t think straight; his cock slaps against the outside of your cunt, your slick mingling with his precome, the head barely brushing your clit. 

“Can’t hear you,” he says, smiling down at you. “These old pipes get loud this time of night, y’know. Downside to the whole underwater fortress thing.” The calloused palm travels over your breast, over your collarbone, brushing your throat with the lightest of touches until he’s gripping your jaw firmly in his hand. His thumb brushes over your lips, gently pressing down on the lower one until your mouth opens for him. 

Your tongue shyly probes at his thumb, and you see a spot of colour high on his cheeks. 

“Say it again,” he says, though from the crack in his voice you can tell it’s taking all of his self-control to wait. Through the thumb in your mouth, you say to him, all want and need and soft panting;

“Please fuck me, Your Grace.”

“Good,” Wriothesley praises you - and then, he presses his hips forward and his cock catches on your opening and you lose the ability to do anything but let him push forward, opening you up. 

The hand formerly on his cock comes to grip onto your hip in order to act as leverage. Your eyes roll back into your head, your lips closing about his thumb so you can suckle on it as a distraction to the sting of being opened wider than your body thinks it can handle. It’s an almost-sting, not-quite-burn - Wriothesley’s thick length almost too much for you to bear, bullying itself inside of you and almost making the channel of your cunt mould to the shape of his. His tip bullies further and further into you, and he grits his teeth and lets a low guttural groan fall from his mouth. 

“Shit,” he grunts. “Always forget how tight you are. Ought to fuck you more.”

He spends every night inside of you that he can, and plenty of lunchtimes and ‘afternoon tea breaks’ too - but you’re not sure Wriothesley could be satisfied even if he had nothing to do all day but fuck you. His stamina is something to be marvelled at. You’ve lost count of the number of times you’ve been beneath him, whimpering out as he filled you with another round of his come, that you don’t think you can take any more - and every time, Wriothesley has soothed and kissed and cajoled - and every time, you’ve been left so full of his release that you feel it leaking out of your cunt and onto the bed sheets as Wriothesley turns ‘just one more’ into ‘just three more’. 

You wrap your own arms around his neck, fingers tangling into the mass of his hair, and let him set the pace as he always does. 

Thrust comes after fast, hungry thrust - Wriothesley is as merciless in this as he is in all things, though you know from experience he has it in him to be tender, when things get too much. Right now, though, he has no time for tenderness - you helplessly suckle on his thumb, grateful for the distraction, as Wriothesley snarls and grunts and teaches your body to take him with every squelching cant of his hips. You feel your own slick drip down your inner thighs to make a mess of whatever it is you’re perched on, and you hope Wriothesley wasn’t working on any important paperwork when you’d flounced in here to show off your newest wardrobe addition. 

The beautiful dress you’d waited to be delivered lies in a crumpled heap on the floor, though, and it seems far less important right now than the growing ache between your legs - the tension that builds with Wriothesley’s groans. You can’t breathe. You can’t do anything, as Wriothesley notices how you react and shifts his body just so, so that his cock batters against a sensitive spot with every fast-paced thrust he fucks into you. Your fingers twist deep into the hair at the nape of his neck, drool escaping your mouth and trickling down from around Wriothesley’s thumb. 

“You close, sweetheart?” Wriothesley murmurs. “Come on, pretty baby. Are you gonna come for me?”

You nod, dazed, and as Wriothesley presses a kiss to your forehead that’s as tender as his fucking is brutal, you feel your body contract and then explode into a hundred pinpricks of light. It’s a sharp kind of pleasure; an explosion of sensation that starts between your thighs and travels into all of your fingers, all of your toes. Sweat beads on your forehead and you whine out unintelligible drooling noises as your vision goes white in sparks of electricity, your cunt pulsating around Wriothesley’s length as he slows his thrusts just enough to let you crest over the hill of your orgasm. 

When you come back down, aftershocks of pleasure still making you tremble and shudder, Wriothesley’s cock is still inside of you. There’s a twist to his lip, an amused little smile. 

“Good?” He asks you, voice rough. You nod dazedly. “Good. There’s a reward for looking so fucking pretty in everything I buy for you.”

He pauses.

“Now. Are you gonna give me a reward for spending all my hard-earned Mora on you, huh?”

You blink at him, your eyelids syrupy thick. As the final waves of your orgasm ebb away, and your heart slows to a rhythm that no longer worries you, you’re once more made aware of just how hard Wriothesley is inside of you. How his thighs are flexing with want; the mess of his hair, his clothes in disarray. 

You lock your thighs about his waist, pulling him closer in. 

“Of course, Your Grace,” you murmur, your tongue heavy. Wriothesley lets out a chuckle, another kiss bestowed upon your forehead as he murmurs into your hair;

“That’s what I like to hear, sweetheart. How about we order you three new dresses tomorrow?”

[willowed-wisp]

relationship headcanons [ kyojuro rengoku ]

SFW and NSFW headcanon and drabble of the Flame Hashira

SFW

- You met Kyojuro during Final Selection, you were one of Urokodaki’s students- you knew Sabito, Makomo and Giyu

- Sabito never returned, and so you strived to train harder…

- The only reason you survived Selection was because you lost your mask and the Hand Demon didn’t recognise you as one of Urokodaki’s students

- It was ruthless, most of the candidates died during those seven days… Kyojuro stuck out like a sore thumb- his hair and his demeanour

- You became fast friends with Kanae and Shinobu Kocho… you soon got a grasp of other breathing styles

- More specifically flower breathing which you learned swiftly because of your water understanding

- You had run ins with Kyojuro, always remembering him and that flame-stricken hair. And determined eyes

- Somehow, with unfortunate circumstances… you became the Flower Hashira after your closest friend Kanae died at the hands of Doma

- Kyojuro was the first to comfort you and welcome you into the Hashira ranks

- You’d had a crush on him, working closely on mission alongside each other

- You had to make the first move, he seemed completely oblivious otherwise… to which he replied, “Your presence lights a fire within my heart… the likes of, I have never experienced…”

- He’s quite attentive, notices that you smell a certain type of flower once and then there’s an entire bouquet in his hands

- Very inexperienced, training consumed his life… as did yours.

- You’re learning together

- Your first kiss was like a headbutt but he laughed it off in a charming manner, “We need further practice!” He’s so enthusiastic when he said it, not leaving the room until your head was spinning. Practically engulfed in his warmth thereafter

- He’s so cuddly

- A human heater, you don’t grab a blanket you just pull Kyojuro over whenever your the slightest bit chilly

- His brother adores you, especially since you speak up to his father after he hits both his sons round the face… “You will NEVER lay a finger on your sons AGAIN!”

- You practically adopt Senjuro, and Kyojuro has never felt more proud in his life… that’s when he knew he loved you unconditionally…

- He proposed a week after that, aided by Tengen, Shinobu and Kanao…

- Kyojuro is quite private about his personal life, and doesn’t want to make a huge spectacle…

- He received permission from Master Ubuyashiki, it didn’t breach any Demon Slayer Corps rules… though, Kagaya would have turned a blind eye, he was a sucker for young love

- Kyojuro took you for a walk in the Butterfly Mansion gardens… before getting down on one knee, the ring must have been made by your swordsmith because the pattern of your ring was the same as your nichirin sword

- As soon as you could, you sent your Kasugui crow to the smithing village to get one made for Kyojuro

- He’s protective over you in the field, you bat him off… “Don’t compromise the mission, Kyo…” Between attacks, and he knew that. He’d always sacrifice his own life for yours.

- You marry at the Ubuyashiki Mansion- among your fellow Hashira, the master and his family.

- You take his last name, but most likely get referred to by your first name or your maiden name still

- With earnings made along the way, you both purchase a property where you could train the future flame breathers and flower breathers- you called it ‘The Hanabi Estate’.

- You take up cooking because Kyo has a tendency to burn things

- You help him heal from his mothers death and his fathers abuse

- Senjuro lives with you, Kyojuro’s hearts warmed when you say, “You don’t need to fight demons to be important… your heart is all you need to make an impact on the world. Don’t let that flame die out, Senjuro…”

- Definitely wants kids with you, especially after seeing you be so gracious with his younger brother, Kanao and any young apprentice you pick up along the way

- Is indebted to you- joining him with the young trio on the Mugen Train mission

- Both surviving the mission to see another day with thick cuts that would be added to the menagerie lacing your bodies

- Loves time in the hot springs, it’s the only thing that releases tension in his roaring body…

- Especially when your kneading the knots in his shoulders

- Allows you to tend to his wounds- you’re the only one who usually lets look at them

- Worries when you go on solo missions, not wanting you to end up like your predecessor

- Probably wants four or so kids… he has a lot of heart to give

- Adores your cooking- eats everything you make for him

- Puts in food orders with you to make, “only if you want to…”

- And of course you do. How could you turn him down when he asked so nicely?

NSFW

- You didn’t have sex until you got married, your honeymoon in a wisteria covered onsen

- You only wore your usual kimono walking into the bedroom… he’s never been so speechless before

- Neither of you had experience, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do…” He’s never felt so helpless before, a beautiful naked woman in front of him

- Bringing his hand down to your breast, “Touching seems like a good place to start…”

- But unlike that first kiss, which was awkward- you wouldn’t change the first time Kyojuro Rengoku made love to you

- He sunk down to his knees, tasting your pussy and journeying further by the moans clawing out of your throat

- No need to be quiet, you were alone. No threat of demons, no people for miles… just you and your husband.

- He took you missionary, letting you adjust to the heat of his body- which may have calmed you down with him inside of you

- Kyojuro rarely lets you go down on him, he’d much rather have you cum on his tongue in persistent succession

- The honeymoon was the only time he let you go down on him, at the edge of the hot spring before he dragged you in and jackhammered you

- Aftercare is his speciality, though you should really tell him eating you out isn’t necessary… you attempted to but, “This is MY aftercare, Y/N, you taste so delicious…”

- Who were you to ruin his meal?

- He’s just as enthusiastic in life as he is in the bedroom- he’s up to doing anything… other than hurting you, humiliating you or bodily fluids other than the obvious cum

- He has so many hidden sides- fucking you in hallways and public hot springs whenever you visit the swordsmiths village

- Holds his hand over your mouth when your mewling like a banshee

- Definitely the type to hold your hands when making love, he’s romantic like that

- Candlelight surrounding you, petals on the floor… feasting on your arousal and smiling like a madman with your wetness dripping…

- Wouldn’t leave your legs if there were no demons to vanquish

————

kny m.list | anime m.list | k. rengoku m.list

[jlheon]

౨ৎ — hair dye (sjy)

pairing. bf! sim jaeyun x fem! reader synopsis. you and jake decide to get matching hair colors genre. est. relationship fluff wc. 1241 notes. if jake goes red maybe i will too! library.

you were a force to reckon with. once you started dating jake, both of you paired together made for many impulsive late-night decisions.

just as tonight did.

it was nearly 2 am when you had sat up from bed with a ‘brilliant’ idea.

you and jake were not sleeping yet, the sunset lamp you purchased was still on to illuminate the room.

you had brought it over since you spent more time at jake's house than at your apartment.

you two mindlessly scrolled on your phones, enjoying the comfortable silence.

“baby why are you up?” jake mumbled, his arm locking around your waist to bring you back to his chest.

“you would do anything for me right?” you asked, looking down at him and brushing some hair strands off his forehead.

“of course,” he sat up next to you, taking your smaller hand in his. “where is this coming from?” his eyes shone with slight worry.

“would you dye your hair to match with me?”

and that is all it took for you and jake to get in the car and drive to the nearest hair supply store. for some reason, your hair supply store was thankfully open when you arrived.

letting out an exhale in relief as you and jake came up upon the ‘OPEN’ light sign, he opened the door and ushered you in first. mostly because neither of you even considered checking if the place was open.

“hi ____! nice to see you and..?” liz, the cashier, greeted.

she had known you as a frequent customer due to your tendency to get bored of your hair quickly.

“hi liz! this my boyfriend jake! we’re looking for some red hair dye enough for the both of us.” you explained, tugging him along when liz led you down an aisle.

“this should be enough!” she handed you a large bottle of developer, which jake quickly took off your hands.

the three of you walked towards the checkout to get ringed up. before liz even finished scanning all your items jake had already taken his silly minion card out to pay.

“ikeu it was my idea, you should have let me pay.” you huffed, settling into the passenger’s seat while he made sure you were buckled properly.

you had no idea when he started checking your seatbelt but he had been insistent ever since he started.

you told him multiple times you could buckle yourself but he said it made him feel more at ease. so who were you to oppose?

“you know that as long as i have money i’ll never let you pay baby,” he said, turning on the car engine, and driving back towards his apartment.

when you reached his building the sky decided to downpour.

making jake run to the passenger’s side to get you so he could wrap the both of you in his jacket and make a run for it.

once you had made it inside you both were completely drenched. sharing many giggles in the elevator, due to you calling him a puppy after a bath. he was just so cute.

unlocking his door he got himself changed into a new set of clothes and got you one of his old t-shirts to change into. picking shirts he wouldn’t mind getting dirty. grabbing some towels from the bathroom so you could start your hair dye escapade.

you sat on the bathroom counter, jake standing between your legs, putting the red dye all over his hair.

you made sure to wear gloves as you had an afternoon lecture the next day and didn’t want it to look like you killed elmo.

jake basked in the fact you were continuously carding your fingers through his hair.

sliding off the countertop when you finished his hair, you kept your gloves on. letting him help you do the back of your head while you handled the front.

he purposely got some on your neck, the coolness of the dye making you shake. in spite, you reached up to put some on his ears.

the acoustics of the bathroom amplifying your shared giggles, which you tried to lessen due to sunghoon being asleep in the room next door.

the soft sounds of your playlist filled the room while you both sat on the bathroom floor with a 30-minute timer for the dye to set in.

the alarm on your phone started to vibrate, signaling it was time to wash your hair.

since you had did your boyfriend's hair first he had to wash his out first. you put on another pair of gloves and had jake lean over the bathtub so you could rinse out the product.

the water from the faucet turned a bright red once hitting jake's hair. you used shampoo and conditioner to make sure jake wouldn’t sleep without the soft hair you loved to play with.

after you checked his hair was fully washed, you had him dry it with a towel as a hairdryer would most definitely disturb sunghoon’s slumber.

you had laughed once you switched places, jake now washing your hair, since he forgot to wear gloves his hands quickly turned a bright shade of red.

he didn’t even bother correcting his mistake, not minding the staining that would last for a couple of days at least.

as both of you dried your hair in front of the mirror you admired your matching hair.

smiling at how quickly he agreed to do his hair just for you.

he saw you grinning at him in the mirror and leaned down to kiss all over your face, rambling on about how the red suits you perfectly.

brushing your teeth and cleaning up the mess of hair products around his bathroom, you both finally headed to bed.

jake slipping into the spot next to you, engulfing you into a hug and intertwining his legs with yours.

by now it was nearly 6 am the sun was starting to peek out.

despite the sunlight creeping into the room through the cracks in the curtains, you both were knocked out like lights.

at around 9 am sunghoon waltzed into jake’s bedroom ready to ask him if he and you wanted anything for breakfast.

only to be met with a lump of blankets and red-stained hands peeking out from under the covers.

“OH MY GOD JAKE WHY ARE YOU COVERED IN BLOOD!” sunghoon shrieked, ripping the blankets off of you both.

triggering you both to tiredly groan. trying to return to sleep, you buried your head in the crook of jake’s neck, letting him deal with sunghoon alone.

“take a look at our hair hoon,” he rasped out.

“oh i see…” sunghoon lied. “it’s..?” waiting for someone to finish his sentence.

“it’s red hoon.” you deadpanned, shooing him to get out.

“OH! looks awesome guys! when did you do it?”

“at 2 am, now get out.”

“you are so cranky jake,” sunghoon pouted. “i guess i’ll only get ____ breakfast on my way back from class.”

“no please hoon i am so hungry..” jake pleaded.

“all you get is a slice of untoasted toast.”

“isn’t that just bread?”

“he will take whatever you give him just let me go back to sleep oh my god.” you groaned, flipping over.

“goodnight baby,” jake said, wrapping his arms around your waist to spoon you.

“it’s morning,” sunghoon commented.

“get out hoon.”

“finee,” he sulked, closing the door behind him.

[thatfrailsoul]

– On a day I've found me

tarot pick a pile reading ( → 1, 2, 3 )

pictures from pinterest → one, two, three

Even in the darkest and loneliest days of our life... There is still something within us. Something that we don't feel so much, don't remember or perhaps don't even know to have within ourselves... But that is still so powerful. Enough to gently push and guide us through every obstacle, through every challenge, through every painful or confusing step. There is something within us that is worth it. That makes it worth it to believe in ourselves, to survive, to still be here and to be alive. Our own treasure, our own and true core where is hidden all the magic of our soul. Are we aware of it or not.

This is our second reading from the Divinatory Jukebox inspired by the song "A Brand New Day", by BTS ( V and J-Hope) and Zara Larsson!(˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) Like with the first reading (that you can find here ♡), this one too was guided by my cards that "set the tone", giving me advice on how to listen to this song, from which perspective, and what it wants to tell us in this period of our lives.

P.s. If you would like to see a reading inspired by your suggested song, you can learn more about how to partecipate here!♡↓

♪♡♪ Divinatory Jukebox ♪♡♪

Slow down for a moment. Give your conscious mind a moment of rest, allow it to step back. And listen to your subconscious mind, to that inner voice, to the intuition that is guiding you to the pile in which your message hides.

P.s. I was considering doing some extended versions of our readings, a sort of add-on through which we will look even deeper and in more detail at the situation. A lot of you gave me your support on this, so I wanted to ask you more about what might be comfortable for you in case of purchasing one day an extended reading!♡ For example, would you prefer to have access to only one pile of your choice (and in case you were called to more than one pile in the original reading you would need too pay again for another one) or to receive all of them at once and with a single purchase?

Thank you for letting me know!♡

—

– Pile One,

the five of wands, the hierophant, the temperance, the six of cups

When the voices get louder, when the words become meaner, the truth is overtaken by the lies... When you stand alone on the first line, protecting with your own back the ones that are being pressured or judged... There is that one little flame, that ignites inside you. That pushes you forward, chest full and eyes on the target. Ready to fight if it is needed, ready to raise your own voice if they don't hear the one of their chosen victim.

Impulsiveness, bad temper, tendency to not mind your own business, somehow even selfishness and desire to make it all about yourself... It can be labelled in so many ways by those for which it is so inconvenient that you are not afraid of them. For those that know too well that one day or another, that same power can be used to protect you from their influence and "guidance". Because although they really do everything to convince you of it, this power and this need to speak up does not come from something bad, from indiscipline or ungratefulness for those that are trying to guide you by so lovingly cutting out what makes you different from what they want or are used to... It actually comes from the deep and profound love. Your love towards your own self, towards what makes you - you. A love that, after so many years of judgment and punishments... you just can't bring yourself so easily to use. And that has as the only way of manifesting - the protection of others that are being treated so painfully similarly to you. That are being silenced and limited by the dreams, desires, and plans of others. And that your subconscious, so beaten up and tired by how many times it has happened in your own life, just can't look at without doing nothing, without trying to save at least others, while you remain to suffer in a life that has nothing of what you like.

Bad intentions, manipulation, desire to keep you the way it is more convenient to them, or just a genuine and scarier conviction and trust in what they do or say... Those around you always had something to say about your behaviour, about your difficulty in following the rules, in respecting the limits, in "trusting" and accepting as yours the decisions or opinions of others... Every time you made a step in a sliglthy different direction, that path was fast destroyed right in front of your eyes. The pain, mistakes or struggles of others so easily used to scare you, to push you back in line. There was never a chance to think differently, to desire things or to realize them in your life without feeling guilty, like you are doing something that you shouldn't, like your one little desire of something else can really crush the whole world in front of their eyes... But those words and hysteria never came alone. They were always so well glazed with concepts like love, wanting the best for you, caring for you and for your life. And tiny bit after another, it simply grew on you. On you that were too tired to fight back every single time just to feel like the one attacking others, the one that is ruining your or their lives...

You became more silent and more docile, more in line with what they wanted or needed. A perfect vessel for all their goals and dreams... And it gave you only a life that is miserable. So peaceful at first sight, but so meaningless for your own heart. A life that you are not really living, but merely following based on their rules. While your mind so desperately tries to live its dreams through others, through their battles, through their creations that you so greedily and secretly consume.

But was it really worth it? Now that you are gorwing up, facing this new phase in your life all on your own... Does it seems like it was worth it? Does it really seem like the perfect end? For your heart it surely doesn't. Not for the one that you are feeling less and less, becoming numb to this life that you are not ready or capable to face. Not for a heart that is so confused and lost, but also so fearful and trembling every single time the ones of the past speak up, with their guidance and advices that are really only judgment and hurtful words...

You relied for so long on your mind that was so good at shutting everything down and following their commands, but now it is really time to switch things up. To give the control to your heart, and let your consumed mind rest, as you take a step back and begin from the very start. From when you were too little and too loving to go against those by your side. From when you asked yourself to not speak up for the first time.

Because as impossible or too late as it might seem, but there is still time and possibilities for you to make things really work in your life. You can still pursue your desires and those passions that you threw away in the past. You can still begin from scratch, try again those things in which you failed but doing them differently, as you think it would be better now. Or you can choose completely different paths. You can do what you wanted and they never considered worth it. You can try and even make mistakes, but also learn from them and at least have your own and true experience. You can live like you always were supposed to, and not like they programmed you to. You can do it, even if they will still judge you. Even if they will still scream at you or ignore you. You can do it because all this time that you followed their guidance and remained silent, there was still and always a part of you that felt that anger, that frustration, that need to scream at them back. And the fact that you still felt it, that you still feel it now... Is all that you need to know that you are alive. That those passions, and dreams, and what makes you unique, no matter if you know what is it or still need to discover it, they are still all here. They never had been destroyed like you thought, they were just asleep, awaiting the moment you will feel ready to speak. To speak you truth, your own opinions. To be louder than their lies or impositions. To protect yourself so courageously, like you always did with others. To not allow your fear of them, or of the loneliness that they so often promise, to silence you ever again. Because their words will only and ever be just that. They aren't prophecies or accurate predictions of your life. They are just their convictions. And you have now yours. And it is time to speak them up as fiercely as they always did. With the difference that you will never use your voice to hurt and control others, projecting and imposing your convictions on them... But you will only protect yourself and pretend the respect that you deserve. The space and liberty to live the life that you want.

♡ { free guidance | a little thank you } ♡

– Pile Two,

the chariot, the lovers, the strength, the wheel of fortune (all major arcanas!♡)

They feel so heavy. Those steps that you need to do every single day in order to survive. In order to have a chance to overcome these obstacles. In order to have even just the tiniest bit of progress... Your legs feel so damn heavy. There is simply too much pressure, too many fears and doubts weighing on them. And at each step... You really do need the help of others. Their guidance, a little advice, support or just some confirmation that you are going in the right direction, that you will be alright.

They say that as we grow we become more wise, more confident. But you seem to have everything but courage in your heart. The same one that, ironically, used to be so brave and beautifully impulsive in the past. The ones that often lead to mistakes, all those passions and drive, it's true. But for which you still would give so much, just to feel even just a little now, because you would exactly know where to direct them, into what to pour them, where they could help you so much right now.

Because it is not at all easy to feel so vulnerable, so lost and scared. It is not easy to need someone to rely on. To look for them constantly, never really having time to focus the same way on your own self. To feel just more consumed, when the one you found influenced you so much but left alone too soon. In paths that you know nothing about and followed just in search of them. With decisions that you can't even remember how you made, perhaps so blindly trusting the opinion or advice of someone that was by your side back then...

It is frustrating. Truly. To feel the life you are living, creating, working so hard on every single day... Just not right, just not yours. So many things constrating you and your visions. So many rhythms and routines that are different from yours. All around you. So many. That it seems impossible to find a way out of this and something that would truly resonate with you for more than just a phase... If you will even ever be able to understand what is it that your heart wants in the first place.

But... The same way as with your life decisions, you are so quick to trust others with their convictions and descriptions of who and how you are too. You so quickly trust their words and vision of you, embodying it so perfectly that it really does feel true. That you are too volatile, too impulsive, too indecisive. That you know too little your own self. That you don't have your own mind or identity, and feel someone only once you become the copy of others and their soul. No ideas, no desires, no passions. Not even one focus, center, of your life that is not someone that you feel so much love and admiration for. You really do believe all of this about yourself. You really, so naively and even sweetly think that others see your core and true self so well... That you don't realize that all that they consider a lack of something, it is what makes you truly whole.

The liberty to change, to feel and experience so many things. The openness of the mind to look at life from different perspectives, of learning everyday new things about this world... We all have it when we are younger. And no one ever considers it as being weak or inconsistent - we know that it is the most important part of our growth. But so many grow, find the safest spot, and settle in so fastly, forgetting everything, even the fact that they themselves can be more, can bloom more... Not you though. Not when you are so versatile, so open, so genuine, so ready to be inspired by this life. No matter if it is through a story, an idea, a feeling, or someone... You are still learning more, you are still becoming more.

Or at least you could if only you didn't bring your own self down so harshly and so often, following the flow of your inspiration only halfway through, convinced that the powerful enthusiasm, the curiosity and passions that you felt weren't truly yours...

The opinions and expectations of people are really strict and specific nowadays, it is true... But only because someone out there, or even close to you, has them, doesn't mean that you need to slow down and force yourself to settle too. It is too soon for you. You have still so many things to do and feel. So many things to see and explore. You are still a child at heart. So innocent, so easily amazed and in love with all that this world has to offer to your soul. So why should you denigrate and change this part of yourself? Why you should judge or be ashamed of something that, if you saw it in someone else, would have filled you with joy, admiration and love? Why you shouldn't love it and embrace it like those that you envy do with their own souls? Why you should do it for others, when being yourself will never hurt no-one?

It never was infatuation, lack of character and discipline or recklessness. It only was your excitement for people and their ideas, so different from yours, so worthy of being tried and felt on your own skin, learned with your own mind and felt with your whole heart, so you can understand them better and connect with them more. It was just your desire to wander, to explore, to bloom more and more with all the colours of this world. It never was you being doomed. But only you being one of the most free souls.

Your mind will change. Your desires. Your passions. Your pace and the direction you'll be guided to take. And that's okay. You will never be stuck or too close to a trap. You never will be lost, as long as you will embrace the power of your soul to hear the many callings of this world.

♡ { free guidance | a little thank you } ♡

– Pile Three,

the three of wands, the page of pentacles, the two of cups, the world

It is so rare to be able to truly see this world, its negative parts but also the hopeful ones. It is rare to have your eyes that can so easily recognise something that is worthy of appreciation, something that we can and need to be grateful for. Your gaze wanders further, it is not focused only on what is here and now, right by your side... But it foresees so many ways, options, possibilities of how things can become better, allowing you to have something that no one else has. Your faith and hope.

It is not just being too positive, hopeful or delusional. It is not stupid to notice precious details and signs in things that others are so fast to label as the worst in their life. It is a different form of courage and strength. To be able to recognise the difficulties and challenges, but at the same time still respect them for all that they give you, for who they help you to become.

But the suffering voices of others are too hard to ignore, aren't they? It is difficult to feel truly grateful and hopeful when so many by your side are crushed under the pressure of their fears and struggles. Your gaze that never focused just on you can't start doing it now, only for the sake of your own peaceful mind... You can't walk past them, or ignore them every time they pour out their soul to you. They are your family, your loved ones. People that you would like so much to share with your strength and patience for this world.

So you do it. You are doing it already for quite some time. You are your own supporter and guide, that always reminds you of how things can and will become better if you just hold on tight. And you are the strength and hope of others. Always ready to listen to them, to help them let it all out. But also capable of finding in their stories and situations something good, something little but still worthy of keeping on going. Kind words. Positive affirmations. Loving support. Readiness to be there no matter what. You do so much for others, you give them so much guidance and love in hopes that one day they can finally see and feel for themselves that hope and faith for a best life... But it helps them so little, it seems so feeble compared to their strong convictions of how it never will be better, of how there is nothing here to be grateful for, of how believing in something different is for the delusional and weak ones.. And it hurts you. It hurts you deeply. That not only you seem the only one to at least try to enjoy this life a little.... But that it is also considered so wrong, for whatever reason, to not focus for once only on the worst. It is hurting you so so deeply, to the point that you are starting to feel for the first time that your enthusiasm is becoming more silent, your sureness more fragile. You are starting to feel so much like they feel. More hopeless, less convinced, less motivated to do anything. Because perhaps if so many say so... Then it really is so bad, so different from what your heart and mind wanted to believe...

Or perhaps it is just a moment in which the voices of others are a little more heavy, enough to pressure you into believing that the life is really only this. Perhaps it is only you that became a little tired, after spending so much time and energy on others, on helping them out. Perhaps it is only your mind that focused for so long on others and their lives, stopping to look for good things in yours, not warming it anymore with your joy and hope, and letting it become more dark and cold.

Life or this world didn't change, in the grand scheme of things. It's not like in this period everything indeed became much worse and horrendous, erasing every beautiful and worthy thing. And it's not like they were always right in their overwhelming negativity and convictions, and you are the one to only now open your eyes and see it all... Everything remained still balanced as it was, the bad and good stuff, the pain and love, the struggle and the epiphany of freedom and safety that is so dear to our souls. But after spending so much time in their minds and lives... You just became used to their ways to feel and see this world, starting to do the same, judging your more hopeful side exactly like they always did to you before.

But you still are this way. You will always be. You will still and always have that light in you, that love and gratefulness for the things. You just need to reconnect with them. Nourish them a little more now, so they can light up once again and warm your heart.

And to do this there is no need to pick sides, isolate yourself or say goodbye to those that not feel this life the same way as you do. You can still cherish your connections, you can still try to lift them up and give them that strength that they need so much. You can still try to teach them, and you can still love them... Just remember, at the same time, to love yourself a little more. Your own ways, your own perceptions and opinions. Your own needs to be hopeful about this world and what the future holds. Just remember to listen to your own self, before anyone else, your own convictions. Cherish them and trust them more than the ones of other people. Because it is truly a power of yours, to feel so connected to the ways of this world. It is indeed something that will save and help you, now and forever. It will always give you the needed strength or guidance to go through the hardships, it will always show you the right path when you will feel stuck or lost. Just remember to nourish it first. Before fighting or protecting so fiercely the ways of others... Remember to nourish and embrace the ones that are yours. So you can share your light, your love and strength with others, but without consuming or destroying it in the process, leaving your own self alone and in the cold.

♡ { free guidance | a little thank you } ♡

[billsbabydoll]

“𝓎ℴ𝓊𝓇 𝓁ℴ𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓇𝓂𝓈, 𝓀ℯℯ𝓅𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓂ℯ 𝒻𝓇ℴ𝓂 𝒽𝒶𝓇𝓂…”

contains:HORROR<3

summary:the notoriously “most feared” man in tokyo “tom kaulitz”, was my dear husband, though he learned to be sweet with me overtime, he still carried violent tendencies towards others. he hated the thought of other men having me in their disgusting minds, he was quick to blow those thoughts out...

WARNINGS:this is my own little spin on “my living nightmare” so if you didnt like that story then you definitely will NOT like this, (I DO NOT CONDONE ANYTHING THAT HAPPENS in this story, this story is ONLY for entertainment purposes!!!), violence, murder, gore, mentions of the mafia, jealousy.

notes:am i just completely fucked in the head that i actually prefer writing horror then writing the typical smut story-line?

HEAVY THEMES AHEAD!

being married to the one and only, the biggest mafia leader in all of toyko, “tom kaulitz” was no simple task..

the constant living in fear of, not knowing if he was coming home tonight, randomly having to switch locations when things got dangerous, not being able to trust a single soul, even having to change identities from time to time.

though tom managed to keep me far away from that cruel world, i still worried for his safety and even at times my own, i wondered if one day we could for once just blend in with society and finally be normal..whatever that meant.

but in reality we where here, in present day of-course.

toms hand in mine as we happily walked through the mall he had easily shut down just for the two of us, really it wasnt just the two of us.obviously his men accompanied us with their masks and machine guns.

“what about this one, is it too much?”i asked as i walked out of the dressing room, shyly strutting a gorgeous silk black dress.

“nein nein(no no)its perfect schatz(darling), you look stunning..”

“dont even take it off doll, im taking you straight to dinner after this.”he chuckled, mesmerized at the sight of the dresses tight fabric perfectly hugging my curves.

he looks away from me momentarily as he calls over the salesman,

“excuse me can you charge me for this dress please?-”

“yes of-course sir, shes smoking hot you sure shes just your girlfriend?”the overly-confident man snickered, tom immediately becomes furious at not only his comment but also for mistaking me as his girlfriend and not his wife, i mean does his dumb-ass not see the rock on my hand?

tom then stands up from the lounge couch, over looking the short salesman, choosing to ignore this for now and inserts his debit card on the card-reader, pulling it out once the reader chimed.i head over to his side, my pile of clothes in hand, tom quickly glances down giving me a cheeky smile before angrily looking back to the man.

“can my wife get a bag for her spare clothes?”he stared dead into his eyes, the mans eyes instantly widening at the mention of me indeed being his wife.

he frantically hands me a plastic bag, before rushing into the employees back-room, i confusedly look over to tom chuckling at the mans sudeen embarrassment.

“what was his deal?!”i giggled as i snaked my arm around toms, now making our way out of the clothing store, toms expression just cold and firm.

“hm who knows, dont worry about it-”he shakes his head smugly ideas already swirling in his middle, before leading me towards the parking garage, where his limousine awaited.

“lets get outta here prinzessin(princess)..”tom said as he opened up the limousines door open allowing me to settle inside first, following right behind along with his members.

he then orders the driver to one of my favorite restaurants, afterwards turning away from me to make a quick call, to then shut his phone closed once he finished talking to whoever he was speaking with.

i sit quietly playing with my other purchases as he begins chatting with his crew, a couple of them letting out a few murmurs and laughs back to him others remaining quiet, various minutes later we soon arrived to where we were set to dine.his security steps out of vehicle first making their way inside, then one of the men comes back out to send a hand signal to tom, letting him and i know that the coast was clear.

“i have a surprise for you waiting inside love, cmon!”tom cheerfully exclaimed, first he steps out of the vehicle, secondly turning around to reach for my hand, then gracefully pulling me out of the limousine, lastly leading me into the restaurants entry lobby.

the restaurant is empty to no surprise with only one anxious waitress and one single chef serving us tonight as per-usual, the waitress introduces herself then proceeds to lead us to our candle-lit table, taking our drink orders before scurrying away.

tom grins as he pulls my chair out for me allowing me take a seat first before pushing my seat back in place, doing the same for himself, then reaching his hand over the table for mine now gently rub circles on my skin with his thumb.

“you know i hate surprises baby..”i nervously stated, looking around trying to get any indication of what he had planned ahead.

“i think once you know why i got you this, i think youll quite like it, hes lucky i didnt do worse!”he viciously chuckled, letting go of my hand to signal one of his men to bring over a…sliver platter?

who is “he”?

what does tom mean?

whats under there?

what the fuck did he do this time?

“go onnn open ittt!”he cries out like an impatient child, he claps his hands excitedly together at the sliver platter set right in the middle of us.

i slowly bring my hand to lift up the cloche immediately met with the surprise inside-

the man,

from the store,

his blood seeping from his eyes and mouth,

a bullet hole through the side of his head,

and another underneath his jaw,

the words “fur meine frau (for my wife)” cut out from the skin of his forehead,

neatly arranged on the edge of the plate,

his head served on a sliver platter.

“surprise!!!”

THE END

[neversetyoufree]

I'm fascinated by the Noé stuff in this chapter. I feel like Mochijun has been working toward calling more attention to his particular comprehension problems as we move into the new arc (like the "be a little bothered" reaction back in 57), and I can kind of see a way this slots into that.

One of Noé's biggest issues is that he seems to be utterly incapable of processing most trauma as trauma. His optimism goes beyond the point of what's healthy to straight-up incomprehension of reality. I don't even want to call it denial, because I think denial requires some small degree more of awareness than what Noé has going on. I've used this line before, but it's like bad things roll off of him like water off a raincoat, never making an imprint in his conscious mind. The guy was abducted by human traffickers while mourning the death of his foster parents, and he seems to have been injured in the process. Yet he laughs it off and says the experience was fun! Like taking a trip!

And I think I see that same tendency as the roots of how he acts in this chapter.

Noé is aware that mistreating and/or de-personing the Dante and co is wrong. And that's what all the other vampires are clearly doing in this scene when they refuse to call them by their names—they're de-personing them. But! Noé likes the other vampires in that scene. He likes Nox, Manet, and Orlock, and he thinks the world of Domi, so I think he really struggles to comprehend that they're purposely doing something he knows is hateful and wrong. "My friends whom I respect are being hateful and actively de-humanizing other people I care about" is not a concept that's going to find easy purchase on Noé's denialbrain. So his lovely toxic optimism lands on the easier answer instead. They must just not have been introduced!

To take Dante's phrasing, I don't think he's doing it on purpose, and he's not stupid. He's just sheltered and hopeful to a truly spectacular (and unhelpful) degree.

Thus far, Noé's over-optimistic incomprehension of reality has only been with regards to things about himself. His friends might get a bit concerned when he brushes off his suffering, but he's never accidentally hurt others or brushed off their pain before. However, this time his inability to confront or even process the Bad Thing—the fact that his friends are dham racist—has affected other people (the people actually suffering the racism). If nothing else, it's a really interesting way to call more attention to his slight disconnect from reality.

[theghostavocadoe]

At least one of the Remnants (or multiple your choice) helping Cloud with his delivery service so they can make some money?

(and also because they do worry about their "big brother" but they'd never admit that aloud i think)

Phone calls in the morning were a common occurrence when owning a business. Cloud had gotten used to answering each call with the same barely-there enthusiasm and getting onto business. This morning was one of such occurrences as he scribbled down some notes on where to pick up and drop off today's deliveries.

When he set the phone down and turned around, his heart nearly leapt out through his throat when he came face to face with the tall, imposing shadow that definitely was not there before.

"Good morning," Yazoo greeted.

Cloud was still clutching his racing heart. "Sweet Minerva. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

Yazoo tilted his head like an owl. "Apologies, that wasn't my intention."

Cloud had to take a deep breath before he continued. He knew Yazoo had a tendency to make little to 0 noise, but he usually wasn't one to approach Cloud first thing in the morning. "Then what was your intention?"

"I heard you over the phone," Yazoo replied. "I want to make an offer."

Suspicious. "An offer?"

"I will help you with 30% of your work today," Yazoo began, "And in return, I get 30% of the pay."

Even more suspicious. The remnants usually had no need for money since they often lie or steal their way into getting what they wanted.

"You're asking for money? That's not like you."

"We're trying to be upstanding citizens." Not him. We. Meaning the other two were planning on helping Cloud at some point as well.

Cloud couldn't help the squint of suspicion that crossed his face.

Yazoo tilted his head in the other direction, lips slightly turning into a frown. "What, you don't believe me? You wound me, Cloud. We're doing our best to--"

"Alright, alright." Cloud waved him off. "You can help."

Yazoo smiled. "Excellent."

-

Yazoo's idea of "helping" turned out to be "looking pretty to borderline seduce their customers into buying their services." Cloud had no idea where they'd learned such business practices, and he wasn't about to ask.

Part of him felt a little bad. But to be fair, he asked the same stuff on his own delivery trips. Here's your package, sign here, consider buying our subscription service for saving on future purchases, blah blah blah. Yazoo just happened to have the advantage of being a tall, slightly imposing, mysterious, beautiful, gender-ambiguous person batting their eyelashes at you to give you the impression that you had a chance with such an individual if you did what they wanted.

It was also quite convenient to have Yazoo around when a difficult customer made a scene and received a sharp glare that immediately shut them up.

Every customer he'd asked before and had been rejected from was suddenly pleasant as a flower and signing papers for their subscriptions. After their fifth customer had closed their door, Cloud turned to Yazoo.

"Are you using your powers?" He asked.

Yazoo shook their head. "No. You'd be able to tell if I did."

Hm.

"I'm just using my natural capabilities to get what I want. Is that a crime?"

Well, legally speaking, no. But morally...

"Okay, fine. I trust you. But lighten up on the flirty glances, alright? Don't give them the wrong impression on what this service actually is."

Yazoo giggled as they sauntered back over to their bike. "As you wish, Cloud~"

-

Despite their teasing, Yazoo did take Cloud's words to heart and held back on the flirting. Their methods still had just as much effect. By the time they were done, Cloud had made twice as much gil as he usually does on a delivery trip.

On the way home from their final delivery, they stopped at the corner store to buy a few goodies with a portion of their spoils. After that, it didn't take long to make it back to Seventh Heaven.

Once the door to the building was pushed in, the two were immediately assaulted by the younger kids. Marlene tugged at Yazoo's coat and asked what he brought, to which the taller crouched down and handed her a bundle of lollipops. Denzel stuck to Cloud while watching the altercation and giggled when Marlene happily sprinted off with her treats in hand.

Cloud portioned out the money he got from the trip and took out what he guessed to be was 30%, and then handed it to them. "Here's your salary."

"My salary? Does that mean I get PTO?" Yazoo joked as they took the money and began counting it.

"No." Cloud blinked. "How do you know what that is?"

"President Shinra once gave me a job offer. I refused, naturally." Yazoo folded the money and slipped it into one of their pockets. "It came with a lot of documents that I ended up throwing out."

"Smart."

"I'm happier with this job anyway. Thank you for letting me help. It was more fun than I thought."

Cloud smiled and gave Yazoo's shoulder a teasing jab. "Don't get used to it. Your siblings might swoop in and steal your spot."

"I'll be sure to wake up earlier then."

And with a grin, Yazoo headed off and up to their room.

[autumnslance]

FFXIV Write 2024: 18 Hackneyed

“This is,” Thancred began, waving the thin paperback carelessly. “Quite possibly one of the worst things we have yet read.”

Aeryn snatched the book from him before it slipped—purposefully, the dexterous bastard—from his fingers, glowering. “You liked the characters.”

He grinned at her indignation. “I liked a character, and how she makes the others come to life when sharing scenes, but one well-written character who is quite likely the author’s self-insert cannot make up for a trite and tired plot. Which you said of it first.”

“I said it employed some hackneyed tropes that did weaken the climactic moment,” Aeryn said, trying to smooth the spine and cover again. “You’ve gotten crumbs in the binding, how in the world…”

“Anyroad,” Thancred said with a dismissive shrug. “I think we can agree that even for a cheap yellowback, it’s a stale and clichéd tale that was produced for a quick gil and will be forgotten just as easily.”

Aeryn nodded, shaking the last of the crumbs out and fixing a few dog-eared corners. “It’s the sort of novel that lives up to the stereotype of purchases from those wandering book stalls. Yet you never fail to let them stop you and sell you some tawdry affair.”

“When we were young, Fourchenault once called them a plague in the city streets, and thus did they become my favorite places from which to purchase reading material,” Thancred replied cheerfully. “I have in fact found a few rare gems among the muck, now and again.” He gestured at the tattered tome Aeryn was attempting to clean up. “This is not one of them.”

“Highly readable, though,” she mused. “You know it’s drivel, and yet keep going because it simply moves along.”

“Oh, the author has a way with words, certainly. Neither of us stumbled or grew tongue-tied whilst reading aloud. Excellent craftsmanship. Now if they could only extend that to plot and characters.”

“Perhaps they do,” Aeryn said. “The bookseller said this is an early entry in a series.”

“No!”

She nodded. “A dozen and counting, all around that one shining character and her exploits.”

Thancred rubbed his chin. “Hrm. This may bear further investigation, then.”

“You said you hated it.”

“I said it was among the worst things we’ve ever read. That doesn’t mean I didn’t enjoy it. And so did you.”

“Well. Sure. But do we really want to read more?”

“Now that we are aware of the possibilities, I say we unfortunately need to. It’s become an imperative.”

Aeryn rolled her eyes.

“I’m quite serious,” Thancred said, getting up and meandering to the door. He looked over his shoulder and smirked. “Especially since some of that authorial talent with wordplay during the sex scene had quite the impressive effect on you.”

Her blush instantly darkened her cheeks as she opened her mouth to retort, snapped it closed again, and resorted to glaring and fuming about how mad she actually wasn’t. She would not throw the book—for various reasons, chief among them her tendency to baby anything bound—but it was probably one of the closest baits he had managed yet.

“Come along,” he urged, nonchalant. “Let’s find that bookseller and see if they have more of these wretched things, and if they do in fact improve with the writer’s practice.”

She did join him, and arm in arm they made their way out to Sharlayan’s streets and plazas, searching out cheap and terrible reading material.

[inkyclone99]

• Bloodied Heartstrings / Michaelis Bros AU •

Completely sane not even slightly odd AU

I don’t. Even know where to begin with this one.

I guess. Maybe like. Ok. I have this DioJona fic called Bloodied Heartstrings on ao3. It’s about Jonathan being revived as a woman by Dio, giving JoJo the body of a woman during SDC (JoJo in that is a trans lady but is still figuring it out)

This fic is kinda like how I like my taste of DJ. It’s fun with all the lil alts it has. Trans lady Jona supremacy. Dio is the ally

Anyway there is a lot here including the crossovers. Kuro makes some sense but I’m aware Star Wars is one hell of a stretch. So under the like Imma explain. It’s a LOT.

Ok. Let’s start from the very beginning.

Yes. The Joestars and Phantomhive are related. But it’s pretty distant enough they know each other but not that close. Claudia and George are cousins.

Mary Joestar is alive and well, because she is a vampire. Yes. She was turned by her own purchase, the mask. And when the carriage crashed, she got in a primal instinct of hunger due to all the blood, and to protect her son, she ran away. (And I hc she was the one that brought the star birthmark to the family, which is very convenient for the Joestars)

Now here is where crossover starts to kick. Dio is not Dario’s son.

He is Sebastian Michaelis’ son.

Eleanor (maiden name Michaelis) Brando married Dario, but she later on was sold by him to work at a meeting…said meeting of a cult. One that summoned Sebastian.

Out of everyone, he chose Eleanor cuz she was the purest (which in his vision, would make her more fun to corrupt and taste). She had very standards wishes, but the third one…she wanted a child.

She was over the age of a young maiden, and she was never able to bear Dario’s child. But she always wanted one.

So, for that, Sebastian gave her his child, later named Dio (because Sebas thinks he is so funny)

Sadly when Dio was 9, Eleanor got deadly sick, and by that point, Sebastian had no idea he had fallen in love with her, he didn’t understand those feelings. All those years with this odd family, he was never able to corrupt the nice soul of Eleanor Michaelis. So, when he devoured her soul, it tasted like splendidly sweet chocolate, which he hates to this day.

And sadly, he abandoned Dio after that. (Shame on you Sebastian) Dio was raised by Dario after that and we know how that goes.

JoJo canon goes JoJo canon, same old same old, Jonathan doesn’t know his gender yet all and all, marries Erina, gets killed by Dio

George II and Lisa Lisa get together, have Joseph, he dies and she disappears

Battle Tendency happens but with a twist: Caesar lives! And he and Joseph marry (don’t worry about homophobia world). Later they ask Suzi to be their surrogate and they have Holly!

Also to clean Joseph of being a cunt, Josuke is not actually a cheating baby…he is a accidental threesome baby. (CaeJose are bi4bi what can you do, lucky Tomoko)

Then my fanfic happens. BHS. Which, I KNOW, it’s not done yet I’m so sorry I’m so slow with it. But believe me, I have the end perfect in mind and I’m gonna spoil it. Sorry

Anyway, after being awaken (he never actually slept in the coffin) in “modern” times in Egypt, Dio revives Jonathan with a body that he always deserved, of a woman (who yes it’s Giorno’s shitty mom).

Fanfic happens fanfic happens they get together they fuck Jona gets pregnant.

Then, spoiler warning.

SDC happens. Dio was almost killed by Jotaro, but Jonathan got in the way and stopped everything (it will be cooler when written down trust)

No one dies too all Crusaders are fine. And it’s an awkward travel back to Japan

Because Dio does have a cure that doesn’t involve killing him and possibly Jona. The stand arrow

The stand arrow awakens Holly’s stand fully. Then Joseph is informed of a lil boy in Japan suffering the same thing as Holly. Realization hits the poor bastard and he sends the arrow to cure the boy

Also…yeah. JotaJona happens. Hear me out. They are so distant and at this point just not really related it’s FINE AJSBSKSNSKSJSKSJKSKSKS

I just really love this ship ok and I don’t have anyone else that I like to ship Jotaro with that much.

But first Giorno is born. He is actually a trans boy here just doesn’t reveal until later. Which is funny, cuz Jona was the last one to discover and understand too. And now she goes by she/her fully.

After some convincing and lil dates JotaJona also get together. Technically DioJotaJona Ofc but Dio and Jotaro still don’t really like each other. But they love Johanna (her new name), so they accept each other like a sitcom. A love triangle without the bottom one would say.

Then Jolyne is born, the most perfect descendant of Jonathan Joestar there could be in canon, is now her daughter. It’s poetic to me <33

And some time later the gen Z Jocelyn is born form DioJona. She is my lovely oc <33 more about her soon promise.

Now going to the Phantomhive fun. Grandpa Undertaker / Claudiataker canon. He hit that.

Anyway canon goes canon goes until the end cuz we have no clue how Kuro will end (though I’m certain it will end with Ciel dying as a child).

Here Undie is defeated and R!Ciel dies Fr this time. O!Ciel covers up saying he was an imposter. Then, he marries Ran-Mao (I have a fic about it, the only fic on ao3 without creepy Lau in the mix)

It’s my rarepair don’t judge me

Sebastian becomes merciful, letting Ciel have a full life before taking his life (he became a softie).

So, Ciel and Ran-Mao have twin girls: Claudia and Rachel. My girly Claudia becomes the Queen’s guarddog when Ciel is incapable of action, and Rachel goes on to have a family.

Years pass and nowadays we have Shiori Genpō. Yes. From the weird Kuro live action movie. She is CANON. And the current head of the Funtom company. (Also dating her maid who is descendant of Mey-Rin and Bard)

Oh and who is that plague doctor mask shinigami with oddily familiar eyes and hair color? Mmm I already spoiled enough here.

Ok. Now.

How the fuck Star Wars fits in this SHIT

Because like. JoJo and Black Butler. Odd. Sure. But somewhat fits in the same universe without contradictions. Mainly with Phantom Blood. (Jack the ripper being multiple killers would be canon here. JoJo Jack is the copycat)

But STAR WARS?

Isn’t that just the tism hyperfixation bullshit at it again?

…yes. But I also have an explanation to it…kinda.

Ok so. Earth is in the SW verse, but it’s SUPER distant from the Known Regions. Barely anyone knows about it and traveling there is almost impossible.

It is possible though, for supernatural beings.

Sebastian can travel around with portals he can create himself. It’s simple and fast.

After Ciel dies at 90s around of age, Sebastian has a lot of feelings to deal with. His love for Eleanor, his care for Ciel that allowed him to live longer…he needs to rediscover himself being more than a soul eating demon.

So, he travels around the galaxy.

Knowing new places, going in adventures, becoming a bounty hunter for funsies, stealing lightsabers and using them like child’s play without the need of the Force

One day, he meets Jango Fett. And Jango is SO IMPRESSED by this fuck ass Weirdo that he invites him to be a trainer in Kamino.

Sebastian goes why not and goes. But because of his abilities, the kaminoans are interested in using his blood to create an enhanced clone soldier, along with other blood donors for the rest of the experimental clone squad.

Sebastian, who is very conflicted with his humane feelings, accepts it. And even if the clone child only has like 10% of his blood just for his enhanced senses, he sees the clone child as his son.

And that son is Hunter.

Sadly, the kaminoans forbid him of interacting with Hunter, because of attachments and bs. While the other boys’ blood donors don’t give a shit, Sebastian does, and sneaks in to have some time with baby Hunter all thanks to Omega, who Hunter later adopts.

During the battle of Kamino in TCW, Sebastian protects Hunter and his brothers from the droids, and then…he disappears. He goes back to Earth.

Because he knew he wouldn’t be able to leave Hunter if he returned to him after That Day. He’d steal Hunter and raise him for the mistakes he did.

Yet. He once again abandoned a child. Because he lives in conflict.

Years later, after SDC ending, Sebastian reconnects with Dio (it’s VERY HARD as it SHOULD be), and then contacts with Hunter again (who is less hard Ofc, actually Sebas was his idol even without knowing their relation)

And there we have it. Ofc when it comes to Hunter the AU differs depending on which ship and kids I have with him lol. But the Earth part is mostly the same in all.

…so. Yeah.

There we have it. My fucking, weird ass AU. I know it’s a lot. It’s strange. Some would say bizarre. But it’s my baby AU.

I love it. I will most likely reference it a LOT. I might pin this too.

So. Yeah. Lol. Now you have context for my other post with Dio and Hunter lol

ALSO SUPER IMPORTANT FACT: Sebastian is Japanese (Yuta Furukawa) so both Dio and Hunter are hafus hehe

[chaifootsteps]

hey chai, long post incoming--i'm slowly chipping away at a draft of a vivzie drama masterpost i'll be phrasing as "why are people mad at vivziepop" for new-comers. i'll be including screenshots where i can and small summaries for things. that said, this is my rough list, have i missed anything that you can think of, or any specifics you think outta be mentioned?

VivziePop General Issues - Some from the Past that still happen in the Present

Inability to Handle Criticism / Confrontation

Transphobia

Misogynistic Tendencies

Issues with Improper Crediting / "Stealing" Ideas

Liking Tweets of Fans and Otherwise Who Agree with Her / Praise Her / Defend Her

Most of both her series’ “charm” is thanks to people other than her

Despite having two "LGBT+ friendly" series she primarily focuses on gay men and hasn't been the most LGBT+ friendly in other areas (acephobia, transphobia, lack of rep for queer women/wlw, thinks polyamory is just an excuse to cheat)

Conflicts between Vivzie putting forth an image of a struggling small-time creator who pulled herself up by the bootstraps and made it VS. circumstantial evidence that she is very well off financially and always has been; had her schooling paid for, spent a summer in Paris, takes expensive trips, makes expensive purchases, and lives in a million dollar house with multiple bedrooms and a pool

Testimonies of Ex-Employees and Friends

Erin Frost

KenDraws

Salem

VivziePop “Canon Events” of the Past and Present (20??-Present)

The Snake Tub & Creepy Fanart

Blaire White Fanart

Nazi Sausage Party Fan-Characters from blog “i-hate-jewce”

Starvader Drama

DollCreep / JayJay/Jiji Drama

Viv guilt-tripped a Patron for trying to get at least a partial refund for a financial emergency--many feel that while Viv was in the right for not wanting to refund the Patron, she handled it extremely poorly

Viv's 2018 "Apology"

Support of Angel Dust x Valentino as a “r*pe ships”

Her sister apologized on her behalf to someone she cyber bullied and her sister cited Viv as “having a problem” cyberbullying people. [Kedi's consequent reaching out to the sister having heard she was being a mediator for said person resulted in Viv saying Kedi was stalking her family.]

Viv kicking the original Hazbin Hotel pilot cast after saying she’d fight to keep them onboard [Michael has stated it was not a union issue and explained how he was even willing to shoulder the cost of having him on the show but was still let go.]

Viv saying redesigns are "disrespectful"

VivziePop Opinions of Other Artists

“I could destroy her” and everything else shitty she said about Kyra -- Kyra’s "Wolf in Sheep's Clothing" comic & tweets People Suspect Are About Vivzie

Calling Tracy Annoying

Ashley (Creator of Far-Fetched)

- Viv wasn’t happy with Hunicast’s popularity (mainly run by Ashley) and was mad people were mistaking Ashley for the creator of Hazbin Hotel despite Ashley always making sure to correct people. - Viv learned something personal about Ashley that she used to make fun of her behind her back. - Allegedly one of the reasons Viv kicked most the original VA cast of Hazbin Hotel were due to them associating with Ashley. - Allegedly didn’t like that Ashley was leaving to work on her own indie pilot (Far-Fetched)

Bullying KediKatzen for having a similar art style, accusing Kedi of stalking her and her family, cyberbullying Kedi

SpindleHorse Related (VivziePop’s Animation Studio)

Rushed, Disorganized, Unprofessional Productions

Favoritism by Viv

“Cliquey” Behavior from Executives

Tight Deadlines

Underpaying

Working on other projects / working multiple jobs was generally frowned upon and discouraged.

In at least two instances Viv actually went out of her way to try and keep people from being hired elsewhere. - In one she told Ashley that Erin was "mentally unstable" - In another she told Nico Colaleo (Ollie & Scoops) not to hire “her artists” aka people working on her project(s).

VivziePop Criticisms Specific to Her Writing

Being Known to Skip Development to “Get to the Good Stuff”

Revealing / Confirming Story and World Lore via Liking Tweets, Making Tweets, or Behind a Patreon Paywall, instead of writing them into the series itself

Adding New Ideas Just Because She Likes Them, with Little Regard for how they Affect the Story

Rushing Characters’ Development and/or Retconning Characters to fit New Plots / Ideas

Apparent Lack of Research, Or At Least Poor Execution, of Her Ideas, Resulting in “Wasted Potential”

Concern over Mis-Management of “Morally Gray” and “Abusive” Character / Relationship Dynamics

Concern over apparent increasing themes of Inc*st in Helluva Boss

VivziePop Criticisms Specific to Her Art / Character Design

Over-Detailed Character Designs

Confusing Character Designs

Character Designs with Too Many Colors

Art style / designs that are “not animation friendly” --As well as her personal quality of art deteriorating over time

Animation is jittery, moving too much, or moving too fast

What Happened with Lackadaisy

VivziePop allegedly wanted to be on the Lackadaisy production in the past, but didn’t get hired

VivziePop has called Lackadaisy Creator Tracy “annoying” for “being active” in an animation channel on Discord

VivziePop tweeted a screenshot of a $5,000 Pledge to Lackadaisy’s backer-kit [which would’ve given Spindlehorse an Associate Producer’s credit on the future Lackadaisy productions]

Lackadaisy Crew Member ZeBirdBrain passive-aggresively replied that “since Medrano couldn’t be bothered to share the donation link, here it is!” And that money amount didn’t matter, every little bit counts.

It was revealed by SH Animator Mel in reply to ZeBirdBrain that the donation came from multiple team-members at SH (VivziePop did not mention this in her donation tweet.)

ZeBirdBrain deleted her original tweet.

ZeBirdBrain was harassed by VivziePop fans to be fired

Fans found tweets in ZeBirdBrain’s likes that appeared to be transphobic

One of ZeBirdBrain’s friends, a trans man, spoke up in defense of Ze, that Ze had known them since before their transition in 2013 and had been nothing but supportive.

Lackadaisy Co-Creator Fable, a trans masc, chimed in that they were made aware of the tweets, they looked into the matter, and were satisfied with the explanations they were given and hoped that would be enough for everyone.

[Fighting continued between fans and Lackadaisy crew members but the general consensus from the Lackadaisy crew seemed to be that they knew Ze to be a supportive ally, the liked tweets were a debated subject even in trans circles w/trans folk on both sides of the argument, Ze uses/used her likes as bookmarks rather than using the bookmark feature, and the reason Ze wasn’t saying all this herself was out of fear the rabid fandom wouldn’t take her word for it and would instead slander her further.]

Later, Lackadaisy’s Backer-Kit campaign ended, at which point Backer-Kit begins processing all the payments.

VivziePop posts a screenshot that “Spindlehorse’s” donation was denied.

Tracy replied to Viv’s tweet professionally, saying they had explained to SH the reason for the denial in private.

Viv’s fanbase became increasingly volatile towards this, claiming Tracy was “unprofessional” and “just should’ve accepted the money” and everyone should “boycott Lackadaisy”

Tracy, on one of her servers, not only elaborated more on the Ze incident (repeating much of what had already been said), but also revealed they had actually reached out to Spindlehorse in private, well before the campaign ended, and requested that they withdraw their donation. Spindlehorse refused.

i think that's about it--and obv where screenshots are available they will be linked in the full post i eventually make.

This looks amazing to me, and also you're doing god's work; something like this was insanely needed.

[ghostgirl-22]

But after all

18+

Day 14: Romance

Summary: Artashi grand romantic gesture

(A/N: I know Oasis wasn’t having a reunion tour until just recently but needed the drama)

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Patrick knows what he’s for. What he’s always been for. He likes it enough. It’s s not like he needs romance or softness. He’s happy enough that they let him back in at all. He has no delusions about this time being any different than what he did for them before. Still his throat aches a little when he gets to see up close how gentle they can be with each other. How married they really are, sharing looks without speaking a word. Holding each other on the sofa while watching a movie.

Even parenting Lily, like this effortless, wordless, dance of teamwork. Patrick has the gift (and the curse) of being quite perceptive but it’s actually obvious how Art spoils Tashi with gifts and dates. How Tashi spoils him by taking care of what he needs before he has to ask for it. And when they have sex, it’s not even what Patrick would call fucking. That makes him ache most of all.

Patrick tries it sometimes. When Tashi agrees to coach him he gets her a bouquet of flowers. She gives him a weird look as if he’s been abducted and replaced so he smooths it over with a joke. When Art’s shoulder is hurting after practice and his physio is out of town, Patrick brings him pills and water and sits with him in bed. They end up fucking, but Patrick was still there for him. He wonders if maybe he’d been more thoughtful with Tashi while they were dating, if he’d recognized this other side of her… if he’d not pushed Art so much in the spirit of what he thought was friendly competition maybe they wouldn’t have shut him out.

He brings it up in therapy. That’s one of the things they agreed to do if they were going to be together, the three of them. They all had to get therapy both separate and together (Lily too). He doesn’t love it but he wants to be with them so he does it and this feels like something safe to bring up. God forbid his therapist goes back into her tendency to say things like, “I’m worried about you Patrick,” “They had issues but they were together, what did you do when you were all alone?”

That’s when he blows her off, making jokes about spending those years hanging out in the tennis forums betting against Art’s chances at every grand slam. Or sometimes he flirts with her, she’s not exactly his type but he would do anything to get out of that rabbit hole.

He’s talking about Tashi and Art and he complains. “I mean I like our dynamic, I like that they’re both obsessed with my—“ he smiles at her and she rolls her eyes. Hes not her type either. She claims he uses flirting as a defense mechanism. Therapists always have to therapize everything.

“I guess something romantic might be nice every once in a while.” He continues. “I mean… sometimes I wish they’d treat me the way they treat each other.” It’s such a throw away statement but the therapist takes it overboard as he expected and they end up talking about it for the rest of the session. It shakes him… her comments but he shuts it out of his mind after 24 hours especially after a good athletic session with Tashi on the court (and in bed).

Months go by and then one night, the week of Lily’s fall break when she’s away at Art’s parent’s house with her cousins, Tashi tells him to pack a bag.

“What?” He asks, he’s in the middle of watching sports center in the family room with a bowl of cereal.

“Come on pack a bag, our flights in 4 hours.”

“Our what? What flight?”

“To London,” Tashi says.

“London?”

”Yes, London. We’re supposed to be some band. Oasis?”

Patrick nearly drops the bowl in his lap. ”Huh?” He swears he’s hearing things.

“Oasis? Isn’t that your band?” She asks.

”My… Tashi… what?” He’s not sure if she remembers but he got up at 4 am months ago to try and purchase tickets with no luck. He then tried winning them also with no luck. Even the second hand market had proved impossible. He’d complained to Art, who would’ve happily joined him at the concert but didn’t care anywhere near as much about the band reuniting for a tour as Patrick did.

“If you don’t get up now, we’ll miss our flight and these tickets will go to waste,” Tashi says, smirking at him.

“But how did you—? How?”

“I’ll tell you on the plane but go pack. We’ll be there for the week.”

“Ready to go?” Art asks, he’s rolling suitcase into the living room, already packed.

Patrick dumps his cereal and goes upstairs to pack. It turns out she knows someone who works in the music industry who’s a huge tennis fan. She happened to have extra tickets and offered them up for box seats at Roland Garos in the summer. They get to London in the afternoon and nap for about 4 hours. They have dinner at some fancy restaurant. Art pays for it and that night they both seem to give Patrick all of their attention in bed. It actually feels really nice, soft even. They fall asleep by 10:30 and wake up pretty early the next morning.

Tashi says she wants to take him shopping. He thinks she wants his company but she ends up buying things for him. Nice clothes his mom would be happy to see him in. Tashi insists on paying for everything. Even when he wants an ice cream cone she doesn’t complain and say thats not on the diet plan. She even orders two and they eat them on the cab ride back to the hotel.

They have dinner at another fancy restaurant right before the concert. It’s VIP seating and Patrick is genuinely floored. He has to get merch to remember this and Art comes with him… they grab t-shirts and Patrick purchases the albums in vinyl. They also get a couple beers and popcorn. It feels like a birthday gift but it’s not even his birthday. He gets to sing along to songs he loved as a kid. He sends videos to his dad and his siblings. None of them can believe he’s there either.

And when it’s over and they’re in a cab on the way back to the hotel, Tashi resting on his shoulder and Art chatting with him excitedly, his voice hoarse because he loved it almost as much as Patrick did, he feels this pang of relief that they’re here. It doesn’t feel real.

”I love this, Tashi, how did you even think of this?” He asks.

“It was Art’s idea,” Tashi says.

“You both planned this?”

“Yeah,” Art says.

“Why? I know you weren’t as excited as I was when they made the announcement.” Patrick says.

“I know,” Art says. “It was for you… we wanted you to feel…good.”

“Yeah,” Tashi says. “You’re important to us. And maybe sometimes we’re not good at…” she trails off.

“We just want you to feel safe. Taken care of.” Art picks up.

Patrick feels himself getting warm all over.

“Are you okay?” Art asks, his voice sounds so good hoarse.

“Yeah,” Patrick nods, he can’t speak much more than that because he’s so emotional, his heart is pounding in his chest and he’s not a cryer..not really.

He was happy with everything as it was…just to be back in their lives. But this… this dulls the ache inside him just a little bit more. They aren’t gonna say I love you, it’s not how they communicate… especially Tashi. And Patrick doesn’t need to hear that… but that night when they lay down to take care of him… it feels like, for the first time, he gets to experience sex with them in a way that feels soft, like lovemaking.

[tabbedtabby]

calamitous love and insurmountable grief

johanna mason x reader

summary: On a hard grieving day for you, you recall an old holiday celebrated centuries before Panem.

a/n: valentine’s day oneshot!!! happy valentine’s day! inspired by a round of frantic fanfic me and my friends did (ty ruby) and the title is a lyric from the lakes by taylor swift bc i barely slept and don’t want to think of anything better. implied fem reader

cw: cringe 😓

words: 1.9k

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Your head lies limply on Johanna’s lap, your face expressionless as you stare deeply into nothing in particular. It was just one of those days for you. One day you’d wake up and be completely fine, skipping down the tile to the shops that make up the streets of District 7. The next, the memories would come surging back twice as strong and ferociously crippling as the last. The images of the dead stained under your eyelids; family, friends, even the soldiers you’d hardly taken the time to know during your fight against the Capitol. Some lost to your own hands, but most to Snow. It seemed impossible to think that he couldn’t reach you here, trying your hardest to forget about the Hunger Games and the war and the people you’ve lost. You’ve been trying to enjoy the little things again in this past month, taking a train out to District 7 with your girlfriend after Snow was assassinated, if you could call it that, really. Swarmed by the mob after Katniss’ arrow found Coin’s heart instead.

It happens to Johanna, too, so she gets it. She simply rests one hand in between the strands of your hair, her fingers brushing through the pieces as she fights with her own memories. She never knows quite what to say with these things, how to help. Often she opts for silence. She hasn’t cared for someone like this in so long. But Johanna has come to learn that her touch helps you more than words ever could. The feeling of her hands stroking your hair calms you, sedates that awful feeling that always seems to rise up into your throat like bile. It hasn’t taken long for her to learn how to calm your fears with just one simple touch, even if it’s something that goes unspoken between the two of you. Like a covert oath held together by the most lenient of hands, gentle fingers that have a tendency to care. Johanna’s touch is the type that draws all of the emotion out of you, like a magnet to its opposite end. Her hands absorb your fear and lead your mind to simpler things. A lantern in the dark, the only star in a polluted sky. Your mind wanders as you try to remember what you wanted to say to her.

“Did you know that before Panem, there was this holiday? About love. And you’d buy stuff for them. Like, your lover. It was called Valentine’s Day. Reading about it always made me wish I was alive back then.” you say, your brain reeling back to all those history books you’ve been reading to pass the time. You can almost feel Johanna’s eyebrow raise above you.

“Who wouldn’t? Worrying about stupid shit like that instead of getting reaped for a death match,” Johanna sneers, although the ferocity in her words isn’t directed at you. It never is. She’s always seemed to have a soft spot for you in that way.

“Yeah… it would have been today, you know. February 14th.” you say hesitantly, and your mind wanders back to those pages. The stores with the synthetic white lights overhead that illuminate the rows of heart-shaped boxes filled with chocolate delicacies. You’ve only ever had chocolate in the Captiol because of just how expensive it is. You’ve never been able to wrap your head around the idea of it being sold for so cheap, so common that it was purchased by millions to offer to their lovers. How simple their world seems to you. So different from the Panem you know. The Panem that condones violence, prejudice, the slaughter of children. But that Panem is one of the past now, too. Maybe humankind could return to such a silly holiday that revolves around love and stupid things like chocolate and flowers. Maybe Panem could finally heal after all the damage that was dealt.

Suddenly, you shoot up from Johanna’s lap, an idea forming in your head. Johanna just stares at you expectantly as you attempt to sort your thoughts into comprehendable words. Usually, it’s to no avail, but you need these words to reach Johanna’s ears right now or you’re going to explode.

“We should celebrate! We can both go out into town and get a gift for each other. It doesn’t have to be traditional, or anything too fancy. But I want to get you something. We can just pretend we really did live back then, before Panem. Before any of this.” you say, pushing the words out excitedly at the thought of celebrating anything at all, really. The aftermath of the war has been heavy and overbearing. There hasn’t been much room for fun or excitement or any of the childish feelings receiving a gift entails. This prospect is what has your eyes looking expectantly up at Johanna, on the edge of your seat for a response from her.

“Sounds stupid, but fine. Only because you look like you’re about to throw up.” Johanna decides, rolling her eyes, but you can see the small smile on her lips when she stands up. The excitement fizzes in your stomach as soon as the words leave her mouth. Something to look forward to! Not only that, but you get to give a gift to Johanna in return. This was the best thing that’s happened to you probably since you saw the life leave Snow’s eyes. Your life was filled too much with remorse and grief for your liking; even this small celebration was sure to bring some light back to your world.

Johanna is someone special. The only person left on this earth you’re sure you love. She’s not just anyone to bestow a gift upon, she’s Johanna Mason, for fuck’s sake, so you have to make sure you buy something meaningful. Something that she’s sure to cherish until her dying days. You sling some coins in your pocket and head out the door, heading in the opposite direction as Johanna into town so that you don’t run into each other while buying the gifts. Although, you’re both pretty famous around here so you doubt the shopkeepers will actually charge you for anything. The entirety of the country knew you as survivors of the Hunger Games, so most typically go pretty easy on you and Johanna. Even if their pity makes Johanna want to tear their limbs off one by one.

Your excitement shows by the way your feet bound you out onto the streets, taking quick glances at all of the shops open in the middle of the week. But as you bounce down the tile, you suddenly slow and realize you have no idea what a meaningful gift for Johanna would actually be. Being so soon after the war, chocolate was out of the question. Flowers were too simple; hell, if Johanna wanted flowers, she could have picked some in your yard herself. You think of getting something to aid her hobbies, but she doesn’t have many hobbies really except for cutting wood with an axe, and she’s already got plenty of those.

You begin to feel a bit defeated now as you wander around town, your bag of coins still clutched unused in the palm of your hand. You haven’t known Johanna for too long, but you thought you at least knew her better than this. You almost turn around until your eyes catch on the blacksmith shop.

On the front of the stand hangs an axe that must be completely forged out of metal, the sleek black and silver parts illuminated by the sunlight. It’d be impossible for it not to catch your eye walking down the path, the way that it shines in the very front of the stall. It must be a premium, because you’ve never seen an axe with a steel handle like that before. It’s heavy, sure, but Johanna’s managed to rebuild a lot of the muscle she lost when captured by spending so much time hacking away at firewood. Now that you think about it, the axes she uses must be older than she is because when she comes back home, you always have to fish splinters out of her fingers with your tweezers. As soon as that shiny, new titanium reaches your eyes, your coins are practically already in the blacksmith’s pockets.

No matter how much of your trauma was broadcasted on national television, a weapon like that is going to cost you a fortune. But the blacksmith recognizes you and offers to put something on the handle for free. You watch intently as he carves you and Johanna’s initials onto the handle with a small, neat heart on the end. Just the sight of it makes your lips raise in a smile with pride.

On your way back to Victor’s Village, you pick up a small box for the axe and buy some red ribbon to wrap around it, just for added effect. When you arrive home, Johanna’s already waiting outside for you, a larger, flatter box slung under her arm. She looks a bit bored, but her green eyes catch on you as you approach.

“Sorry. Took me forever.” you mutter through your grin as you walk up to her, already placing your box in her hands. Johanna smiles similarly, her lips a small smirk as the sunlight catches in her eyes. You can see the small flecks of brown in her eyes, a brighter green in the light than typical. Her hair has grown back curlier than before, the wavy strands ending just below her ears. You miss the red streaks in her hair. You wonder if she will dye them again once hair dye begins to be produced and sold again.

When Johanna takes the box from your hands, it’s almost like she can recognize the weight of an axe instantly. Growing up in District 7 will do that. “Nothing light, huh?” she grins, her eyebrows raising a bit knowingly as she tostles the box around a bit, hearing the metal slosh against the cardboard of the box. You can’t help but think she looks beautiful like that, with the sun dappled over her skin. You watch her almost distractedly until she hands you the box she had kept under her arm.

“Here, before I open mine.” Johanna says, her smirk widening just a bit as she looks at you intently. You smile back up at her as you take the box from her hands. It’s quite flat and almost weightless. You nearly drop it from expecting something heavier. You look up at her in question, and she just tells you to open it again. You roll your eyes, but the smile doesn’t leave your face as you gently take the top off of the box.

Your brows furrow in confusion as you slowly take your hand to touch the fabric in the box. It’s a piece of clothing. You gently unfold it, letting the box fall to the floor. It’s a dress, originally white, but cream around the edges with age. But it’s clear it’s well cared for, not a single stitch missing or a piece of lace misplaced. It’s beautiful. You nearly gape your mouth in shock as you run your fingers along the white satin, the pattern forming small flowers, and it feels silky smooth beneath your touch. Your eyes raise back to Johanna, the emotion clear in your gaze as she looks back at you with pride in her small smirk.

“I looked into one of your history books. White for weddings, right?”

[hawkepockets]

May be I missed the lore dump but I would like all the context for your de riva (backstory? how they ended up with the crows? how they ended up with varric? feelings on this whole elven gods thing?), please ?

u did not miss anything!! ty for asking ♡ monster of a post below.

BACKSTORY. she 👇

was born in the antiva city circle! her mother, a very devoutly andrastian mage, prayed fervently the whole pregnancy that her baby would be A. a girl and B. a non-mage who wouldn’t have to live like her. specifically she prayed the novena to divine theodosia ii, antivan folk saint of childbirth, on a loop. so the baby was named. get ready. divina theodosia ii novena de la torre. and was a baby boy. and a mage. and taken by the templars to be raised in a different circle tower, at salle.

even before her egg cracked, and despite the other apprentices joking about it and giving her 100 nicknames, she held onto her birth name as the only keepsake from her mother. but to be user friendly, i’m just going to call her rook this whole post.

she wasn’t a great student of magic—plenty of power, but a tendency to overshoot and blow things up in the classroom. she was also incredibly open-hearted, friendly, & gullible even with the templars. it didn’t bode well for her harrowing.

but when she was 15, the mage rebellion erupted, the templars broke from the chantry, and a contingent of loyalist mages decided to flee from salle’s unguarded circle tower and make a run for antiva city, where there might be more safety in numbers against the extremely religious & fearful antivan populace. rook went with them, to stay close to her friends and in the hopes of finding her mother at the antiva city circle.

the guide who was supposed to meet them and arrange the caravan, though, was a crow from house de riva. in exchange for transport and protection, they demanded not just the agreed-upon formari treasures looted from the tower, but also all the apprentices. if the mages refused, they could try life as apostates on the strees of salle with the crows and rogue templar mage hunters after them. they really had no choice. so the apprentices were handed over.

house de riva had recruited an ex-templar, who went by just “ser,” and had a scheme in mind: DIY an early harrowing with ser’s inside knowledge, put the ones who passed through fledgling crow’s training, and boom. they’d have a secret coterie of mages, the only crow mages, to use against the other houses in a play for the higher talon ranks.

without access to circle-grade lyrium or templar executioners, ser devised this test: viago would poison the apprentices, they’d each be locked in a solitary room while the poison took its course, and anyone who lasted four days without succumbing to the poison or the temptation to call for a spirit to help would be “harrowed.”

out of the dozen or so apprentices the de rivas had purchased, 4 passed, including rook, who grit it out thanks to her unwavering trust (totally misplaced) that this was just a test and that viago was too babyfaced and serious to have dosed her with anything really deadly. on the fourth night, viago brought her the antidote and won the total confidence of de riva’s most naïve and good natured mage forever. ugh.

the other three mages took to their reeducation like… crows.. to.. whatever crows take to. trees? and learned stealth, cruelty, and subtle uses of their magic from ser. rook was just not cut out to be an assassin. she was too clumsy, her magic was too loud, and she had a horrific habit of giving people—crows! the crows who bought and poisoned her!—the benefit of the doubt. she followed viago around like a mabari. and if she didn’t get her head in the game, ser was going to kill her.

ser said as much while throwing her out of a training session a year in for still lacking control—she was supposed to be a cunning piece in the crows’ internal game of power, a knight for house de riva, and she was stupid! ser had no use for pawns who couldn’t think more than one step ahead or look around a corner!

it was viago who told rook to get up off the floor, suggested she might be a different chess piece, and arranged for her to start training with imelda de riva, the house’s ageing dueling champion. (the crows are about public theater as much as private violence!)

👇 imelda!

instead of a stealthy assassin, rook trained as a brawler, martial artist, and performer. her job for the crows was stage fighting (with real bloodshed) by day for the entertainment of salle’s people and the furthering of de riva’s political aims, and by night, cleansing crime scenes with gouts of scouring, full force magical fire. raw power and eagerness to help had never been among her limitations.

she’d found her niche and loved the pyrotechnics! and she was even more grateful to her “big brother” viago for helping her become useful to the crows.

unfortunately around this time came her first run-in with lucanis, and the end of the de riva coterie… ¬‿¬

VARRIC.

rook was 25, in treviso as part of viago’s retinue, when she met varric—in the middle of ambushing the antaam prisoner caravan and liberating their captives in a classic, flashy crow display to the delight of civilian onlookers—and the despair of viago, who knew—while rook didn’t—about the larger, joint house operation rook was compromising.

viago told teia he’d already interfered enough on behalf of an overgrown fledgling who’d only ever brought him trouble. teia, catching his drift, suggested rook go with varric to look into his conspiracy theories, and not come back to antiva until the occupation was over and viago’s retinue was home free in salle.

rook was pleased to have a chance to play the good guy, and she liked varric and harding. but she’d lived her entire life in one panopticon or another, taking orders, and she didn’t know how to tell varric, without outing herself as an awful person, that she missed the crows and hated when he gave her choices…

ELVEN GODS.

rook is andrastian, so thinks of the evanuris as basically the same thing that corypheus was said to be: old, blighted mages with delusions of grandeur. solas leans into this to get her trust and hold her interest: the “creators” are just an allegory! the evanuris are flawed, blasphemous mortals! she’s soooo smart for apprehending that! and so on.

she is beside herself at having released them, though. another classic rookie fuckup!!

IF YOU READ THIS FAR THANK YOU AGAAAAAAAIN (◠‿◠✿) here’s some more rook smiles