#i hope he gets his ass beaten severely

[pocketwei]

shaking in my metaphorical boots as I approach Dressrosa at high speed

[paper-mario-wiki]

Shangri-La Frontier mid-season review

This is by far the best fake video game I've ever seen written in fiction.

Most MMO-centric isekai stories have trouble with providing accurate and realistic depictions of the complexities and minutia that give MMOs the allure they have. I've seen so much handwavey bullshit tacked onto fake-games that introduce unrealistically overlooked mechanics for reasons like giving the protag immense power just because they're the protag and the story is about them. A good example of this is another MMO Isekai airing this season, "A Playthrough of a Certain Dude's VRMMO Life", wherein the main character becomes extremely rich, powerful, and famous by episode 2 because he stumbled into a stealth archer playstyle, a build which apparently no human in that universe had ever conceived of before, and then making a fortune by selling basic potions to everyone after NPCs stopped selling them (another thing he was uniquely able to do because not a single other player had the forethought to spec into alchemy). These lesser, dime-a-dozen isekai add up to be boring fantasy strories with gaming elements clumsily put in so that the author can demonstrate how powerful the world's inhabitants are by showing their stat allocation screen instead of, say, explaining anything about what they do that's so uniquely powerful and how they figured it out. Ya know, stuff you'd hope to hear about from any competent story.

Shangri-La Frontier is a breath of fresh air for anyone who, like me, is sick of authors ignoring the things that actually make video games compelling in service of creating a stock-standard narratives in fantasy worlds because it allows them to get away with bullshit. I've always found it very convenient that many isekai narratives indulge in things like chattel slavery, because it's societally normal enough for the protag to purchase a beautiful, vulnerable girl to add to his harem (dont worry, she is always inexplicably in love with him no matter what because he's SUCH a kind master). And it never really seems to go anywhere. Because the Video Game Isekai, while an interesting premise in theory, is more often than not used exclusively as a means to simplify the structure of a world's power scaling to abide by an arbitrary set of omnipresent universal rules (e.g. what people who have never cared to look into game development think of video games). This anime, by comparison, is VERY clearly authored by someone who plays a LOT of games.

Every piece of logic used to drive the plot forward, so far, is congruent to a real-world example of video game conventions, and I'm not just talking about levelling up and selling monster parts. Story elements that I've rarely (if ever) seen explored in other isekai are ever-present and genuinely clever and amusingly introduced. My favorite example of this so far has been the way the protagonist has been able to go head to head with so many overlevelled foes in the first 9 episodes. The story of course makes note of how good of a gamer Sanraku (our hero) is, but much like in real life games, being super duper good at dodging attacks doesn't really make up for a 70 level gap in items and learned skills. For that reason, he gets his ass whooped more often than he actually outsmarts others (so far he hasn't beaten a single player in pvp). So how is he getting out of these situations without dying so frequently? Simple: he got access to a later area too early relative to his level (sequence break) and got access to a high level follower NPC that's been carrying him. This is something he acknowledges directly several times, specifically using words like "Emul has been hard-carrying me for a while." This, to me, is extraordinarily meaningful. That's something you can exploit in Skyrim, man. That's REALISTIC CHEESE STRATS. The excitement and wonder I find in this show doesn't come from watching the protag do something unexpected, but by watching him do something that I would think to do.

This knowledge the author has demonstrated regarding modern gaming culture extends further into the actual realistic nature of game design and community. The story exists in a reality where full-dive VRMMOs are the be-all-end-all of gaming, and given the prohibitively expensive nature of developing and designing expansive, immersive worlds, most games are pretty shit. It's been hinted at so far that this is due to a monopolistic megacorp which is one of the only entities rich and powerful enough to make a good game (the game in question being the one that shares the title of the anime), but so far the strife of the characters have been pretty centralized to the happenings of the game world and its politics. By the way, lets talk about the game world's player base politics, which I'm also quite pleased with. It exists in the form of guilds and clans who struggle for power not by participating in seemingly random pvp with other powerful players to see who is the most epic and badass warrior (again, like many contemporary isekai typically opt for), but by gaining actual realistic support from a fictional playerbase with realistic desires and playstyles. Some guilds are interested in lore, some gather for alliance and boss raids, some for things like animal husbandry, and (naturally) at least one is dedicated to trolling and PKing. Each of these factions, through the very little that we've seen of them so far, communicate on forums and only know as much as is reasonable for them to know. The only reason they give a shit about the protagonist at all is because he gained access to a high-level unique scenario quest that they want information on how to access, and the only reason word of that got out in the first place was because someone posted a screenshot of him with a unique NPC onto a forum, asking about it as "where can i find this pet summon, its super cute!" That's real. That's video games, baby.

I like this show a lot so far. I like that it cares about video games, but I also like its writing. I like the main character and how hes less of an ultra badass super cool guy, and more of an earnest challenge-run lets player. Like, a lot of his dialogue straight up sounds strikingly similar to Japanese youtubers. And he's naturally always quick to point out inconsistencies in the game world's logic. I ALSO really like his community of pals from a janky old fighting game, and I ADORE the girl from his school who has a crush on him and also just so happens to be an exceptionally high level player from a top clan, and how she had to spend 9 episodes working up the courage to send him a friend request. I love that so, so much, dude.

I highly recommend this show if you're into a single thing I've mentioned. The animation is great. The world is beautiful. The character design is immaculate. And I'm looking forward to watching it continue.

[autumn-hiraeth]

Hi love! Some fluff with Hobie when you had a situation with him for a while but u end it because u wanted something stable and then one night he came to your apartment all beaten up and as you started to clean him up he explain that he's spiderman and wants a commitment relationship even if it scares him? <3

Hi, sweetie! ♡ hope you like it!

Hobie brown x reader

Just fluff. Headcanons.

a/n: i wanna be his gf so badly.

You can find more here “Hobie's masterlist”

You sigh satisfied when you finish your skin routine, now you can go to bed and rest.

However, when you are finally falling asleep, you hear several knocks on your window. And your heart races 'cause you know someone who used to do that when you two were together.

You squeeze your eyes shut, nah, it can't be him, that ended months ago. Hobie would be a complete dickhead if he dared to...

“ know you're awake luv! need your help"

You can't help but get butterflies over the pet name and you scold yourself for feeling that way and for being so silly to let him into your room.

“Hobart, what the hell are y..?!” your eyes widen when you see his pretty face all beaten up and even though you want to curse him for coming, you hold him in your arms to leave him on the edge of your bed.

"Just stay here" you ask before going in search of the first-aid kit to patch him up. Hobie sighs, his heart pounding, he'd be lying if he said he hasn't missed you, in fact, there's not a day that Hobie Brown doesn't think of you. You are what he longs for the most and maybe tonight with some luck you will be able to be his again, 'cause Hobie is still yours like the first day he kissed you.

As soon as you get to his side, you don't hesitate to hold his jaw so you can see his wounds and Hobie smiles seeing you so worried about him, so without saying a word he lets you patch him up, your soft and delicate hands touch him carefully and Hobie loves it, he doesn't even care how much it hurts.

You are his anesthesia, you make him feel better. " You need to take off your shirt" you say and Hobie raises an eyebrow making you blush. "Don't start, Hobie" you tell him and he pouts, because he knows you love when he does, whenever he pouted it ended in a heaten making out (Have you seen those pretty lips?)

"I didn't even say anything luv" he raises his hands in defense before taking off his shirt and he smiles pleased when you look at him, your eyes wandering over his torso, but before he makes fun of you, you speak: "I've always wondered how you get your ass kicked like this." You kneel between his legs so you can tend to the wound in his side and Hobie bites his tongue to keep from saying what he's thinking as you kneel in front of him... He can remember all those times he put you on your kneels, not only to patch him up.

Instead Hobie says “it's just because I'm Spider-Man” you stop cleaning up his wound and look at him, your mouth is slightly open and Hobie thinks that maybe you're going to get a little hysterical from the way you're looking at him but you raise your fist in the air in victory and mutter; “ I knew it! I just needed you to confirm, but we “broke up” so …” You shrug, going back to your work and Hobie holds up your chin for you to look at.

"I never meant to lie to you Y/n" you nod murmuring a soft; “I know”

“ aren't you mad?”

“ why? For you being Spiderman? Nah”

"I didn't mean to hurt you either" the way he says it's genuine and maybe it's because his fingers are caressing your jaw that you suddenly want to kiss him, but Hobie speaks again: "it's I just got scared" he confesses and you frown "I don't like commitments, I hate them, but you make me want to commit to you" he finally said it, it's not that he never wanted something stable with you, it's just that he's too scared and you understand that.

And you love that he tells you how he feels.

Even if it took five months.

You remove his hand from your jaw and sit on his lap, his hands wrapping your waist as he caress your bare skin under your long T-shirt. But his eyes are focused on you, he doesn't know what you'll say but he expects you to accept it but all his fears are dispelled when you put your soft lips against his. “I wanted to tell ya but I didn't know how” he murmurs against your lips “I never meant to hurt you Y/n” you nod softly, your hands caressing his bare shoulders enjoying the feel of his lips again.

"don't ever hide anything from me again Hobie" you mumble and he nods "yes ma'am" you kiss him again before patching it up again but Hobie needs to know something else so he asks: "Luv, how did ya know I'm Spiderman?" "I'm a smart girl, aren't I?" you wink at him and he smiles.

Oh, but Hobie's going to find out, he only needs to convince you.

[rascal-xo]

What's up! Umm, I got a request another actually ideas be popping in my head. For ghost x reader, where the reader is a world-class boxer and is like undefeated like the reader is pretty much female Mike tyson (BTW if you don't know who Mike tyson is he was pretty much a scary boxer who knocked people ass out , people were scared of him and he bit someone ear off ) and reader is like so deadly in the ring she almost kills someone or gets called this pretty sick nickname and everyone on the task force is afraid of her but ghost being ghost doubts the readers skills and challenges the reader in the ring and gets his ass beaten badly like a REALLY bad broken nose, jaw or like gets his ass knocked out. Just a thought: I hope this is acceptable 🙏. I love your writing.

Sunday Punch | Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Female Reader

Chapter summary: You’re a lethal fighter in the ring, and a seasoned soldier in the field. The 141 get front tickets to your underground double life.

Warnings: Fights, bodily injury, blood, language

Tags: @glitteryeggalmondherring @fiveshelmet @madamemelancholysstuff @myguiltypleasure @pukbadger

A/N: Ty for sending in another amazing request! you keep my brain happy lolll 🩷🩷 I hope you enjoy! (It’s a long one i’m sorry LMAO i got carried away)

P.S: Sunday Punch is just another way of saying KnockOut.

It’s no secret that you’re a talented soldier. With every move you make in the field, you showcases an unrivaled combination of skill, agility, and raw power. You holdheld quite the reputation around base, especially for your skills in combat.

Most of the younger cadets at the academy were also hesitant to be paired up with you, mostly afraid to get knocked out.

Whether it's engaging in close-quarters combat or taking down enemies from a distance, your every move is calculated and executed to your advantage. Your training has molded you into a formidable force, capable of adapting to any situation with ease.

But you haven’t always been like that. Going through the ranks before and during your recruitment to the 141, you were pushed beyond your boundaries and worked through.

Now you’re lethal, and one of the military’s strongest assets. But like anyone else, you have hobbies. Dangerous hobbies.

You step into the dimly lit underground arena, the air thick with anticipation. It's early, and the entire space lies empty, granting you a moment of solitude before the chaos ensues. The only sound is the distant hum of the overhead lights, casting an ethereal glow over the barren ring.

With a focused gaze, you tighten your fists and step forward. Your first strike connects with the bag, and the impact reverberates through the arena like a gunshot. The sound echoes off the empty seats, filling the air with the thunderous force of your blows.

The scent of sweat and anticipation lingers in the air, fueling your senses. Your muscles ripple beneath your skin, coiled and ready for action.

Your teammates on the 141 know you lead a mysterious life when you’re not at work, but have never seen you in action. You decided that it was time to let your most trusted friends in on your endeavors. Mostly because Soap was dying to see you in the ring.

The Captain isn’t very fond of you putting yourself into dangerous situations outside of your already severely dangerous occupation. He’s like a father to you, but he also understands and respects your talent.

Now as you sit in your dimly lit dressing room, the anticipation of the upcoming underground boxing match courses through your veins. The air is thick with the scent of sweat and determination, mingling with the faint echo of distant cheers from the eager crowd.

The mirror before you reflects the flickering glow of a single bare lightbulb dangling from above, casting shadows across your face.

You take a deep breath, the adrenaline surging within you as you run your fingers through your hair. The rhythmic motion of braiding your hair has always been a ritual before each fight or mission, a way to focus your mind and steel your resolve.

“Quite a crowd tonight, Bullet.” A voice breaks the silence. You look up to see Anchor, the man who arranges the fights. You’ve been fighting in his arena for 3 years.

He’s wearing his signature navy blue suit, his hair gelled and a championship ring on each finger. He throws you an envelope and you catch it on your bare lap. “Three thousand. Five when you win.” He winks, leaning against the doorframe. “You’ve got Tank Gomez tonight.”

You open the envelope and glance at its contents, the crisp bills tucked neatly within. Anchors the only other person you’ve ever trusted besides your team. He trained your mind to always be lethal and ready, coming from a fighting background himself. “Copy that.” You say, a smile at your lips.

“When do you deploy?” He asks, crossing his arms. “People don’t seem to care about me when ‘Bullet’ isn’t in the ring.” You shake your head at the nickname you’ve acquired.

“3 days. So don’t scuff me up too bad.” You tease, getting up to put on your robe.

The crowd awaits, hungry for the spectacle that is about to unfold. But it's more than just a performance; it's a test of your mettle, an opportunity to showcase your mastery of the craft.

With Anchor's support, you step forward, ready to embrace the chaos and reclaim your rightful place in the ring. The anticipation builds, the sound of the crowd growing louder as you make your way through the corridors.

As you step into the ring, the air crackles with anticipation. The crowd roars, their excitement reverberating through the arena. Across from you stands your opponent, a formidable figure, a big man whose sheer size alone could intimidate the faint of heart.

As you take your stance, a flicker of movement catches your attention from the corner seats. Soap, Price, Gaz, and Ghost, are there, watching you intently. Soap sends an energetic thumbs up, cheering you on.

Yet, as you meet Ghost's gaze, you notice his eyes. The usual seriousness is replaced by a coldness, an intensity that makes it unreadable. He looks away. Ghost has never been one to support your hobbies, but watches along anyway.

The referee's voice cuts through the tension, signaling the start of the fight. The world around you narrows, and everything else becomes a blur. It's just you, your opponent, and the dance of combat.

You move with purpose, your training guiding your every step. Dodging, weaving, and countering, you navigate the ring with grace and precision. Each blow is calculated, your fists finding their mark with practiced accuracy.

The big man lunges forward, his power evident in every punch he throws. But you refuse to be overwhelmed. Your speed and agility become your greatest assets, allowing you to evade his strikes while retaliating with your own punishing combinations.

“Argh!” One of his punches land, striking you right under the eye. You curse knowing the bruise it’s gonna leave later. You feel a little blood drop down your cheek. Recovering quickly you bounce back.

With each passing second, the intensity of the fight grows, both you and your opponent refusing to back down. Sweat beads on your brow, mingling with the taste of blood and adrenaline on your lips. The rounds blur together, time becoming inconsequential as you immerse yourself in the battle, fully present, fully alive.

As the final bell sounds, the crowd erupts in applause. The fight is over, your opponent is out cold, and you've given it your all. You stand tall in the center of the ring, catching your breath, as the referee holds your victory arm up high.

After a grueling workout, you find yourself in the open gym on the military base, sweat glistening on your brow and a towel draped around your neck. Your bruised knuckles draw your attention, serving as a reminder of the battle you fought in the ring just a week ago.

As you examine them, lost in your thoughts, the door swings open, and Ghost walks in, his presence commanding attention. “Hey.” You say to him, with a nod.

“You’re here.” He replies, monotonously. His normal gear is now replaced with gym shorts and T-shirt. He trades out the full skull mask with a black balaclava.

“Why wouldn’t I be.” You chuckle, watching as he sets down a weight. You would normally work out with Ghost as you’ve got sort of a friendship that’s built over the years.

Today he seems awfully distant. You feel the tension growing between the two of you. You knew he was never a fan of you fighting for show, he was the first person you told about your endeavors, and he wasn’t too thrilled.

Ghost's eyes briefly meet yours before shifting away. You lean against the hanging punching bag, and cross your arms. It's evident that he's harboring a deep anger, his normally calm demeanor shattered by the concern that has festered within him.

“It was nice of you to come out the other night.” You say, testing the waters. His head turns in your direction as he takes you in. His gaze stops at your knuckles.

“You’re gonna get yourself killed.” He says, looking right through you. You scoff a dry laugh.

“Haven’t yet.”

“You think this is funny?”

Ghost's voice cuts through the air, his anger palpable. You straighten up, meeting his gaze head-on, refusing to back down. The tension between you escalates, the air crackling with unresolved emotions.

"No, Simon, I don't think it's funny," you reply, your voice tinged with a mix of frustration and defiance. "But I also don't think it's fair for you to dictate what I can or cannot do. This is my choice, my path."

Ghost's eyes narrow, his anger simmering beneath the surface. "Your choice? This isn't just about you, Y/N," he snaps, his voice biting with a sense of betrayal. "Every time you step into that ring, you're not just risking your own life; you're risking everything."

His words hit you hard, the weight of his disappointment bearing down on you. You take a deep breath, struggling to find the right words to convey your own perspective.

“I've trained for this, I know what I'm doing."

Ghost scoffs, his disbelief evident in his tone. "Trained? You think a few months of underground fights make you invincible?”

“Fuck you. You never fucking supported anything I do!” You throw your towel down, needing to get away from him and get some fresh air into your system.

An hour later, Price calls you and the guys for the group training session. He divides the team into pairs for sparring, and to your surprise (or perhaps fate's twisted sense of humor), you find yourself standing face to face with Ghost.

The tension between you is palpable, the lingering anger and hurt casting a shadow over the training session.

Price's voice breaks through the silence, setting the rules and reminding everyone to "play nice." But deep down, you know that the emotions swirling inside you threaten to break through the facade of control.

The bell rings, signaling the start of the spar, and you and Ghost cautiously circle each other. As the seconds tick by, you feel the anger inside you bubbling to the surface, fueling your movements.

His movements are measured, his punches and kicks executed with surgical precision. He weaves in and out, his strikes landing with pinpoint accuracy, but you matche him blow for blow, refusing to back down.

The sound of fists meeting flesh echo through the training room as your strikes collided. The intensity of their spar escalates with each passing second, the energy between you crackling like electricity.

Without warning, you lash out, throwing a punch fueled by a mix of frustration and pent-up emotions. Your fist connects with Ghost's nose, the impact resounding through the air. Time seems to slow down for a moment as he staggers back, blood staining his balaclava from his broken nose.

The realization of what you've done hits you like a punch to the gut. The anger dissipates, replaced by a flood of guilt and regret. His eyes meet yours, raging and stone cold. “Fucking hell. You just don’t know when to stop do you?”.” He curses, his shoulder hitting yours as he leaves the mat.

“Si-wait!” You call after him, but before you can say anymore Price stops you.

Enough," Price's voice cuts through the air, firm and resolute. His gaze shifts between you and Ghost, assessing the situation. "Take a breather, both of you."

He gestures towards the side of the mat, signaling for you to step aside. You comply, your mind filled with a whirlwind of emotions.

A/N: That’s all I got for now or else imma be writing like 10,000 words just on this LMAO

[val-made-a-mistake]

i was bored and i thought about something i haven't done in a while - putting whatever fanfiction of mine that was popular at the time into google translate several times over, and seeing what nonsensical bullshit comes out.

i tried this with pushing the limits, and this version has a random foot fetish that ABSOLUTELY was not there in the original version, a beautiful cat named november, eddie getting beaten (???) and copious amounts of poison. i don’t know how we got here. i’m dying laughing. here you go.

-

You are a very picky woman.

You tried to hide your fear when Eddie pecked your cheek again. He knelt down and looked at her as she knelt down and turned her face to him. WORLD HEALTH ORGANIZATION. Some are soft, some are rough. This includes pulling your hair until it hurts, spitting in your mouth, or putting a condom in your mouth when it's too dry to handle. I feel so good when I wear it, to receive all with hope.

It's been a while since we've heard from Venom, but Eddie's still having fun.

"Good boy," Eddie sighed and popped the cock's head back into his mouth. You wet him, your length wet with saliva, but it still stuck. There are eyes on his face.

When he saw you, he almost stopped breathing. "Oh, that's too bad…"

You replied that it worked for you to take his entire length in your mouth until the tip of his cock touched your saliva and waited for you.

You wanted to stay there but suddenly Eddie's hand grabbed your hair and pulled you back. Of course, he didn't expect this.

"Calm down, my love." I said. “You know, it's not every day that women beat me."

We sat on the bed, he stuck out his tongue and smiled at her. "I'm sorry."

Poison rang in my head.

a cat.

No, you're not crazy. That's what Eddie was trying to tell you when he stuck his cock in your mouth to stop your orgasm. Think: "Because it sounds good…"

His plan was to nurse until he came. He thought and continued with his tongue sticking out as he brought your lips to his. The metal was thick, he stroked his tongue slowly until it swelled. The best part is when his hands hold your hair and make sure you use it exactly as he wants.

This time Venom's voice sounded in Eddie's ears.

You look very good, Eddie.

It was surprising when Eddie decided to continue. At some point he let go of you and grabbed your leg to show that he wanted to go with him.

His voice was low and almost sweet, comforting you. Get up, go.

You take a deep breath, your heart racing without brushing your hair, you get off his lap and roll onto the bed to follow his instructions.

"Shit." Eddie nodded before handing it to you. Give it to me, honey.

She smiled sheepishly, buried her face in the pillow, and lifted her tight ass into the air.

“Shit,” you breathed, rubbing the grease with your palm. oh yes He knew you were running out and shame made you blush. "Do you always pee when you put a duck in your mouth?"

"You're the only one." She cried a little and hit him again.

"Is it just me?" Eddie shot back with a sneer lighting up his face. "November? Does this mean my beautiful cat is laughing at me?"

You opened your mouth to answer but this time he was stroking your calf and you were tired.

"Shit." He buried his face in the pillow and sighed. It felt like the Poison was pouring over you every time you were with him, you weren't sure if your wet chick could handle it but God you never gave in to the temptation.

I believe Venom suffered as well but never showed it.

Sell ​​it, Eddie. You want to shoot him.

Place your head on a pillow and spread your legs apart to expose as much of your vagina as possible. Eddie smiled admiringly at Venom.

“Take it easy,” he smiled, gently wrapping his arms around your wet calf, stimulating his tender nerves. "Dog, I say, Jesus…"

He leaned down to lightly kiss your wet feet. Touching the packaging will make your mind go crazy. This wide hole will undoubtedly be fruitful. You'll feel the fat rolling down your inner thighs, and unless you turn your mind off, you'll end up seeing Eddie from Venom behind you. you are cursed

I sighed patiently, hugged the pillow and waited patiently.

The poison fell on his head.

When did Eddie arrive?

[sufferu]

Hey never read re zero I don't plan to for some time but I've seen a lot anime and light novel spoilers but why do you think Subaru has more chemistry with Julius than Emilia and rem

Okay first of all, obligatory shilling time: Re:Zero is amazing and I love it and you should absolutely give it a chance when you’ve got some time. Please.

And uh. I’m admittedly not sure how to put this for someone who’s never watched/read Re:Zero, but I’ll try!

At this point in the story, Subaru and Emilia are…very much a slow burn couple, and it’s mainly just Subaru having a huge ass crush on Emilia while Emilia tries to figure out what Subaru means to her. And it’s sweet and wholesome, but currently it’s reached a point where Subaru is doing all the work on a number of different levels — not just regarding his romantic feelings towards Emilia — to the point where it feels rather unbalanced sometimes. I’m holding onto hope that this is intentional and going to be the focus of some development for Emilia sometime soon, but it is what it is for now. But beyond that, it’s really just a matter of Subaru liking Emilia and Emilia wondering if she should return his feelings, and that’s FINE, but it’s not hugely compelling to me. (Also frankly I’m of the opinion that Emilia deciding that her feelings towards Subaru are actually platonic and that she values him more as a platonic soulmate than a romantic partner could genuinely be S Tier storytelling, so.)

Subaru and Rem, meanwhile… Okay, so, I kinda oversimplified things a bit, because those two DO have chemistry. Quite a bit, actually. I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that they have one of the most layered, complex relationships in the entire series. But the thing is, it also happens to be INSANELY toxic, with both of them enabling the other person’s worst behaviors and basically leaning on the other in this incredibly interesting codependency that literally only gets shaken by one of them getting erased from existence. (Also Rem is unique in that she is the sole character who is not Subaru who has been directly responsible for an IF Route: one of the possible Bad Ends that the series can go down if the wrong choice is made at a pivotal moment. In almost all of them, Subaru is the one making that choice — except for Sloth:IF, in which the choice is between whether Rem agrees to run away to Kararagi with him or refuses and coaxes him back to his feet during his mental breakdown, thus losing her chance to have him all to herself.) it’s a really complicated dynamic that’s difficult to summarize in one paragraph (I didn’t even bring up how Rem literally tortured him for several hours in a previous loop, to the point where he references still having nightmares about it a full year after the fact) but I hope I’ve given SOME idea for how fascinating it is. Regardless of how interesting it is though, it’s not exactly Final Couple material: everything is pointing to the two of them learning to stand apart from one another on their own two feet.

Julius, meanwhile — there’s a lot here, really, and most of it is pretty woven into the story (which you have not read) but I’ll try and give a couple reasons lol.

First of all, Julius is unique in that he is the only character to actually remember doing something traumatizing to Subaru. He’s not unique in traumatizing Subaru — this man has been murdered, tortured, beaten to a pulp, humiliated, and so much else by like half the cast at this point — but Subaru normally dies and resets to sometime before that happens, and so Julius is the only one who actually did something that Subaru was hurt by and remembers doing it. This, ironically, gives the two of them a foundation for their dynamic that is arguably healthier than the ones Subaru has with most of his friends — especially because Julius has proven time and again that he is a safe person for Subaru to be angry with, because he’s actually been really understanding and tolerant about Subaru lashing out at him over it sometimes without being the kind of overly-apologetic that would guilt Subaru into being quiet. As such, Julius is the One Person who has done something horrible to Subaru that Subaru has allowed himself to feel angry and resentful towards, which is noteworthy because a lot of other traumas have been explicitly recolored as “good memories” as one of his coping mechanisms.

Beyond that: Subaru references his attraction to Julius so many times it’s practically a running gag. He waxes poetic about his long legs, graceful eyelashes, vexing voice, supple hips, and the “strange sensation” that his image inspires within him. I’d say I’m reading into it but I genuinely don’t think I am, because it happens SO MUCH, and (with a couple exceptions, like the guy he went on a two page “there’s another reason I’m on my knees right now” rant for) it’s ALWAYS JULIUS. Hell, even other characters like Emilia reference it sometimes, with Subaru responding by saying that they’re definitely not friends, but “something infinitely more annoying.”

And like — they’re just fun? Their dynamic is fun. They’ve got this playful banter going on every time they meet, they obviously respect each other on a serious level beneath that layer of mutual sass, Julius has this sense of being able to be his real self around Subaru in a way that he doesn’t feel he can with anyone else while Subaru has that aforementioned foundation of “I can finally actually be angry about something that traumatized me for once,” and it’s just — shockingly equal and healthy and wholesome. It’s nice. (I fully expect these two to have some plausibly deniable “very close” relationship by the end of the story that could be read in a number of different ways lol)

[chocsra]

"Looks like You Do Need my Help."

15! Chuuya x implied fem! mafia! reader

A/N: I WILL BE DOING A PART TWO TO THIS, thank you @sstarshroom for the request!! 🫶

Content: being protected by the cocky nakahara chuuya, fluff, oneshot, comedy, violence, swearing, slowburn, teen romance, enemies to lovers?, no mentions of dazai this time 😔

based off the song despair & riko in jjk!

"What the hell, man?!"

You jump off the fenced rooftop onto a smaller abandoned one, your legs shaking as you get up to face the huge monster hovering above you. It's been 6 hours since you woke up, and in those 6 hours, just going out was a difficult task without getting ambushed or attacked. Inside the rusty machine with several chainsaws and drills attached to it lay a middle-aged man with wrinkles and a scruffy, old brown trenchcoat. He had been relentlessly attacking you; it seemed that his weapons never tired out. Damn bastard.

The man launches various spikes and blades at you, unhinging the loose screws of the tiny rooftop. You fearlessly jump into the air, grabbing onto a loose piece of rust on another beat-up building. Behind the steel machine, he only laughs maniacally, seeing your face contort into a death glare. You activate your ability and send a collateral attack onto him, destroying the machine's arms. As some sort of last resort, the machine drops an explosion onto the building. You let go instinctively, about to hit your head against a metal pipe.

That's when a hand gently protects your head from the impact, arm sliding around the nape of your neck as their other arm hooks under your thighs, hand cradling your knees. A gravitional pressure sends you up into the air, despite feeling a heat holding you close to them; your mind feels fuzzy as the person spins several times in the air, feeling them kick and fly as they hold you in their arms. It felt like a roller coaster, except the only support was their half-assed grip on you. The turbulence in the air doesn't allow you to see your saviour's face, but the firmness of his chest and rasp in his voice only led you to the idea of a guy.

"Hahahaha!!"

He laughed devilishly as you clung onto his shoulders for support. It was a boy about the same age as you, with smooth, wavy orange hair that framed his face and piercing blue eyes. His lips were curled into a lopsided smirk, pale skin shining under the bright sun. The redhead wore a raven fedora adorned by a silver chain, which surprisingly didn't move or fall off considering the amount of flying in the air. A red aura gleamed off both of you as you looked back at the now-massacred machine.

"Are these the organisations that oppose the Port Mafia? I can't say I'm impressed." He smirked, setting himself down atop the dead machine where the heavily beaten and bruised man lay, choking out blood as shards of rust cut into his temples. The boy, still using his ability to hoist you up, sent a crushing stomp on the beaten man's throat, causing a loud shudder to erupt from his diaphragm. 'Stop comin' after kids, yea? Fuckin' bastard." He spat, twisting his heel directly over his windpipe. You heard a seering crack as the man's green eyes shot wide before going blank.

A few moments later, the boy softly sets you down atop another brick rooftop. "Easy now." He eases, seeing as you stumble on the ground from all the spinning. "Wha- are you with the Port Mafia?" You rub your head soothingly, feeling dizzy. "The Port Mafia? Nah. Never heard of them." The ginger grins, chuckling sarcastically as he puts his hands in his pockets. He wore black slacks and a grey suit vest with a maroon neck tie secured under his white button-up. A raven blazer worn over his forearms, the sleeves cut to just down his elbows, along with tight black gloves that were secured in his pockets. He wasn't all that tall, despite having long, defined legs. You tilt your head in confusion, hoping for an answer. "How come so many people are after me today?" You question, causing the boy to soften his gaze on your clouded state.

"You really don't know? Your ability is pretty good; it was just leaked on the black market." He answers before taking his hands out of his pockets and adjusting the gloves wrapped around his wrists with a nonchalant gaze. "What?" You ask with concern in your eyes, slowly getting up from the ground. "Are you after me too?! Back the fuck up!!" You glare defensively, and the boy only scoffs in response. "Relax. You're not that spectacular." You only frown in response, spinning around on your heels to turn away from him. "Whatever. Thanks, I guess." You mutter, walking away from him on the rooftop, only for him to appear in front of you with raised brows as his hands rested in his blazer's pockets.

"Where are you goin'? The Port Mafia sent me here for a reason, y'know." The boy feigns a sigh, his eyes darting to your clenched fists. "Why? At least tell me your name or something." You suggest, stopping yourself from leaving. He taps his boot on the ground with a heavy sigh. "Chuuya. Chuuya Nakahara. And I'm sent to babysit you since you're kind of a commodity right now." You furrow your brows at his statement. "Babysit? And 'Chuuya'? Isn't that the Sheep King's name?" For the first time, the redhead scowls in annoyance. "I was never their king.." He mutters, gritting his teeth. "And how do you know that?!" Chuuya shouts, pink tinting his ears lightly. "Gossip is prominent in the Port Mafia!!" You yell back, causing him to back down.

"I guess, yeah.." He mumbles, looking down. "So you work in the Port Mafia now?" You ask with a straight face, watching him as he leans back against a wall. "So you know about that too?" Chuuya asks, sighing. "Yeah, why else would you save me?" You smile proudly, resting a hand on your hip. "Don't flatter yourself." He answered frowning, causing you to frown. "Well, you did well. But I don't need your help; I'm just fine by myself." You grin arrogantly, fanning your face with closed eyes. "Really now?" The redhead asks cockily, stepping in front of you with a challenging gaze.

"Yes, you dare doubt m-" You continued with your nose pointed upwards until you opened your eyes to reveal a large man hovering above you two with a fancy machine gun, with only Chuuya standing in between you. "Looks like you do need my help." He turns to you with a proud smirk before turning back and activating his ability, launching a tornado kick towards the man.

"What?! No I don't- Fuck you!!"

You sigh deeply as he leaps up to decimate the battlefield effortlessly, laughing about how 'pathetic' the opponents are.

Today was going to be a long day.

[bucknastysbabe]

OKOK SO YOU WOULD WRITE FOR VISERYS THE SLUT I HAVE FOUND MY PEOPLE

THIS MAN SCREAMS MOMMY ISSUES I WANT TO PEG HIM SO MUCH THAT HE CRIES OUT OF PLEASURE BUT AT THE SAME TIME I WANT TO PRAISE HIM AND BABY HIM💀😭

So I def went the praise and baby route. With tears OF COURSE. I kinda liked his pathetic ass besides fucking w/ my KHALEESI. I loved writing this— thanks for the ask lovely anon. I PRESENT TO YOU 🥁🥁🥁 ANOTHER TARGARYEN WITH SEVERE MOMMY ISSUES💥

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1,236

Tags: MOMMY KINK, tit sucking, pussy jobs and the like, Viserys rude ass inner dialogue, prostitution, man tears, hyperspemia, no kissing sorry he’s a weirdo

Unwind

Viserys sprawled on the plush bed, the ever present grim look on his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smile. Maybe before the Golden Company laughed in his face after the Prince, King truly, feasted them in hopes of gaining allegiance to take back his birthright.

He and Daenerys were staying in Lys, under a powerful Magister. They’d throw them out before long, so Viserys would take his pleasures while possible. Maybe, just maybe, someone would see him as the King he was. The rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, not that usurper. Viserys promised the Magister the Stepstones in exchange for the crown.

He was waiting on one of the famed Lyseni whores to come to his lush quarters. Requested pale silver-gold hair and violet eyes. Certainly not a ringer for Dany. It ached his soul to think about the idiotic sister of his. But he loved her. Stupid fragile thing.

He palmed his cock, ready for some sort of release, lilac eyes flickering to the door. A soft rap echoed on the gold painted door. Viserys straightened up, sweeping loose curls behind his ear. The whore slunk in with a bow, thick curls of the beaten silver-gold cascading down. She had a sultry voice, simpering, “Your grace.”

He commanded, “Come here girl.”

“Yes, your grace,” she purred.

The pillow girl wore a gauzy purple dress, plush hips and full tits bare underneath. She swayed to the end of the bed, lifting a leg to crawl up before Viserys growled, “I didn’t say you could join me. Kneel on the floor.” Her face was placid but he could see the infuriating little smirk on glossed bee-stung lips.

“Yes my lord.”

Viserys crept to the end of the bed, spreading his long legs on each side of the kneeling whore. Her wide violet eyes peered up at him, long dark lashes framing the orbs. That little tilt of the other blonde’s lips was causing anger to flare in his chest. Viserys snapped, “What’s so entertaining little slut?”

She laughed, a melodic tinkle, eyes flashing in mirth. The Lysene crooned, “The Magister Myrmorro wanted me to relax you. Says you’re too uptight.” Before Viserys could boil over in anger she urged, “Let me take care of you. A good report back to Myrmorro could help your cause, my lord.”

The beggar prince’s jaw ticked, fighting the dragon back to sleep in his chest. He needed to make an impression. If the pretty whore in front of him could help Viserys would have to regretfully obey. He sold his fucking mother’s crown after all. What else was there besides his body, little Dany, and desperate promises.

Viserys grabbed a thick lock of tight pale curls, her eyes fluttering in pleasure. He rasped, “What do you suggest then?” Her lips widened into a grin, hands sliding up Viserys skinny thighs. He raised a brow, tugging to get a quicker answer. She hummed, “Let me take over and you’ll see stars, my king.”

King. He liked that. His cock liked that too.

“Fine then. Work your whore magic.”

She stood up, untying a pouch to her side that Viserys hadn’t seen before. He must have been too invested in her heavy tits. She husked out, a devious look in her eyes, “Would you like me to undress you, my King?” Viserys snapped, “Of course. What did you expect?”

She placed the pouch on a chest and climbed onto the bed, sliding off her gauzy excuse for a dress. Viserys eyes were drawn to her peaked pink nipples, the heavy droop of flesh, marks from growing too fast on the side. His cock throbbed painfully.

She demurred, “Want a taste? Let me get you naked first.”

Viserys somehow was pushed back, elbows cushioning his fall as the woman untied and pulled at his silks and wool, emblazoned with the red dragon of his family. All he could do was stare at her swaying breasts, mouth growing wet. The almost-king couldn’t explain his desire but wanted it so, so, so, bad.

“Lift,” she ordered.

Viserys lifted his hips for her to shuck down his woolen breeches. The boots had already been discarded earlier and his tunic must have been removed in the Valyrian’s trance on the whore’s chest. His cock lay on his pale belly, already flushed a deep red and dribbling pearls of white.

Her blonde curls shifted and shined while she climbed atop his hips. The wetness of her cunt shifted against Viserys own desire, making him whimper. He tried to cover it with a clearing of his throat but the damage was done, she chuckled at him.

“Don’t laugh at me,” he pouted snarled.

“I think you’re endearing,” she caressed his thin hip, “Would you like to suck my tits now, pretty baby?”

Pretty baby.

“Please,” he whispered.

She wrapped lean arms around his shoulders and shoved creamy tits forward. Viserys made a broken noise— overwhelmed on where to even begin. The Lysene thumbed one of his sharp cheekbones cooing, “How about the left? Poor little dragon. I’ll take care of you.”

He wanted that so bad. Viserys had to always fend for him and Dany. Couldn’t relax. If he could just get the throne and servants to indulge his every whim. This was close enough. The Targaryen sealed his lips around a pink nipple and suckled eagerly, hands coming up to paw at the abundant flesh on her chest.

She cooed and writhed against his weeping cock. “That’s so good, get your fill sweet boy.” Viserys whined, sucked, and licked eagerly. He whimpered at the soft feeling of her heavy teats.

His balls suddenly felt very full and achy, sensitive to the point that it hurt.

“M-mummy,” he whimpered, totally lost to the desire clouding his mind.

“Yes baby boy, my sweet boy, suck all you want,” she replied while carding manicured hands through his loose flaxen waves. The angel rubbed her slick pussy against his need, coating it in sweet warmth. Viserys gasped as he pulled back, both hands on her bountiful chest.

He dove onto the right nipple, neglected and ready for the taking. He thumbed at the other one, delightfully slick and puffy from his ministrations. The Lysene moaned softly, encouraging him even more. Claiming his rightful rule to the throne, how strong and smart her king was.

Viserys shuddered and cried around a peaked bud, “O-oh gods, mummy, please! Don’t stop.”

He mewled and sniveled, shoving his face between her pillowy teats. All Viserys could do was rut and chant, “Mummy, mummy, mummy, mmh!” She rolled her hips along his length in smooth glides. Viserys wailed in ecstasy, his overfull balls drawing up painfully.

She moaned, “That’s it, c’mon my baby, cum all over mommy. Make mommy proud.”

“I-I-I will! Oh fuck! Ah- mmh- cumming so hard for you mummy,” he cried. Viserys spasmed and shook with hefty sobs as he came and came and came. It almost hurt how much he painted her cunt and his lap. The beggar king clung to mu-the whore and sucked in air. Roughly, as he couldn’t be bothered to remove himself from her tits.

The woman murmured, “So good baby boy, bet you feel so good. You were full, my my. Just relax and let mommy hold you now.” With another pitiful whine, Viserys did so, just forgetting the stress of the cruel world for once.

[marina-the-witch]

MAJOR Shadow of the Erdtree Spoilers!!!

Alright I need to get this out, so here goes.

Promised Consort might be the single most conflicting boss in Fromsoft for me, and I need to talk about it. Firstly, I want to say in full honesty that I don't really mind it from a narrative standpoint. As much as I would have loved to see Godwyn get his time to shine, seeing Radahn in his prime, especially after he got beaten out quite hard by 4 other bosses in base game when he used to be my favorite after some consideration, is very cool and I don't personally think it assassinates either of the 2 characters involved, as it doesn't contradict or invalidate Miquella's previous actions nor does anything point strongly towards Radahn willingly being involved in this. However, one complaint I do have is that Mohg's involvement feels quite irrelevant and ignored by both the fanbase (aside from the dedicated Mohg club) and the game. Promised Consort has a couple horns slapped onto his arms and a SINGLE move that is reminiscent of Mohg, that's it. No shared weakness, no cool wings or scales or anything, hell, why not make Mohg's shackle work to make this difficult fight a little bit less over the top. On that note, I would like to address the fight. Aside from a wonky hitbox or two, I think, on paper, Promised Consort has a very solid and fair moveset in Phase 1 that's fun to learn and exploit, even if the openings do feel aggressively tight. Phase 2 on the other hand...Why? Why, instead of giving this conceptually sound and interesting boss an actually new moveset do you just slap frankly annoying AoEs and weird Dragon Ball bullshit ass afterimage attacks and the ability to fucking toast your CPU on what could have easily been the best final boss fight in Souls thus far if you had just TRIED. Many people have expressed they feel as though Promised Consort doesn't "try" narratively, that he's just a cheap, shoehorned attempt at fanservice like Soul of Cinder What who said that instead of providing an actual final boss to cap off the narrative, and I don't fully agree with this even if I did find the ending cutscene a bit underwhelming. But I do feel as though Promised Consort isn't trying to actually be challenging in a fair and fun way. Just kinda, overtuned. Aggressive. Unfair. I had my fun with the boss, no doubt, but I didn't feel good about beating it, especially not after the only way out I saw was summoning a tanky spirit who drew all the aggro while I tried to do literally anything in Phase 2, when no other boss in the DLC or in the game at all has ever made me that desperate (Note that i don't mind summons in general but don't personally enjoy using them as it takes the excitement and rewarding feeling out of a boss fight for me) (Also note that while i am fairly good at this game, I am extremely easily overwhelmed by too many bright visual stimuli as part of my ADHD/Autism, which is part of the reason I struggle with Fortissax and Bayle every now and then, now imagine that but tenfold for Promised Consort). This boss needs some sort of nerf. Not one that completely neuters it, Radahn has had enough of that already, it just needs to be towned down. The speed, the damage, I don't know, hell, toning down the visual clutter of phase 2 would probably be enough, so you could actually SEE what the boss is doing half the time, just do something to not make this fight as unfair as it is now. I don't know if I'll have the same experience I've had with this boss as I did Malenia, where after several attempts that ended in a mere , underwhelming, unrewarding "Glad that's over", to thinking its the worst thing ever to it being my favorite boss, I kinda hope it will, but for the time I can't say I'm excited to fight this boss again.

Stan Metyr and Romina instead everyone, we love weird nasty girlies <3

[armpirate]

The Only One || JJK || Ch. 23

Pairings: mafia!jk x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, mafia, contract relationship

Warnings: Prostitution, torture, blood, use of drugs and weapons

Summary: You've always wished for a better life. Every single day at work, you were hoping something would change. Although you didn't think that change would come in the form of one mysterious man and a contract.

His controlling and selfish behaviour only wanted to keep you away from any other man that wasn't him, and you only had to wait for him.

Too bad you really thought you'd be smarter than Jeon Jungkook.

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Jungkook moved his thumb over the titanium ball of his eyebrow piercing, focusing too much on the slippery touch of the piece of jewelry while his mind was busy with just one thing: Y/n. It had been weeks since she left, and he still wasn't able to understand how all of it happened in front of him. As much as he tried to find an explanation to it, it just made no sense. Even if it could've happened right up in his nose, he wasn't able to tell how she could get all the information. She didn't know Korean to understand anything that could be of use, and she was too busy trying to get her ass in problems to worry about his issues.

He found the phone, he found the texts, but there was something off about all of it. Sanhyuk clearly didn't want her as a scoop -he was convinced there was someone else, and that was why Jihu was still under supervision in one of the safe houses that he had spread all over Korea.

Either way, soon the word was spread all over his family. The seven members of the Bangtan family agreed on keeping that deal with Sanhyuk as a secret so it wouldn't get any bigger, and also congratulated Jungkook after taking a good decision. He knew that if he hadn't done what Sanhyuk wanted, the other six bosses would've jumped at his throat and also forced him to leave his position -the same position his dear father left him.

Although he couldn't disagree more about the decision...

—Don —he rolled his eyes when he heard Siu's voice breaking the silence.

—I told you not to call me like that.

—Sorry —the young man apologized, taking a hesitating step towards his desk—. Jihu said he wants to talk.

That sentence got Jungkook moving his eyes from the gray wall to the gangster, confused at the sudden change of opinion from the person who used to be his man of trust. But it wasn't like he was able to think straight, when his brain was focused on getting answers finally.

Soon he stood up from his chair and was ordering his driver to get him to the same place he locked Jihu in, and that everyone in his crew knew of -because he made sure they'd take turns to look after him, and also create awareness indirectly by seeing what could happen to them if they ever thought about betraying him. Not like it really worried him. In general, he was well-respected, most of the people working for him would look down whenever he passed by, and would take a bullet for him any time. But it was better to make sure something like that wouldn't happen again.

He stepped inside the room, seeing a beaten Jihu kneeling on the floor, with both of his arms on each side of his body. He barely could recognize him, his swollen face -by the several hits- were covered in blood, that was rolling down the -already- dry stains.

—Hope you have something interesting to say —Jungkook mentioned, lazily letting his head fall slightly to the back.

—I really don't know what he wants from Y/n —he assured him.

Jungkook breathed deeply, slightly closing his eyes before he was completely focused on the man kneeling in front of him.

—You took her to him —after reminding him that, he squatted in front of Jihu—, didn't you? —the old man just looked down— I'm sure you also kept him updated on everything related to Y/n, so tell me —grabbing him by the hair, nails almost digging on his scalp, to force his barely open eyes to stare into his own—: you did all of that without a fucking explanation? Do you really think I will buy that you acted blindly? —his tattooed hand pulled from his hair, gaining a complaint from the man.

—Sometimes you just need to act blindly —he muttered—. You've kept coming here time and time again, every day, and you always get the same answer. I don't really know what he wants to do with her.

—And I'll keep doing it until you speak —Jungkook sighed—. Look, I don't really care about how much he paid you —he stood up, cleaning the sweat and grease on his black slacks—, but I want to know what the fuck he's planning.

He dug his hand in the right pocket, moving his fingers over his phone to reach the cigarettes. Somehow, the mere action of placing the cigarette in front of his parted and broken lips was enough for Jihu to accept the invitation, lighting it up as soon as the orange part was trapped in his mouth. The tip lighted slightly when he breathed in, later letting all the thick smocking spill from his nostrils.

—You know me more than anyone, and you know that if you're good to me, I'll be good to you —Jungkook assured him.

But that comment only made Jihu scoff, as if he weren't the one in a disadvantaged position.

—You're just a kid, playing to be his father —he ironically mentioned, barely understandable, because he still tried to keep the cigarette in between his lips.

—Could be —Jungkook nodded—. I'm still smarter than you. At least enough to know when to keep my mouth shut.

Right after saying that, he took the cigarette and turned it off, rubbing the burning tip against Jihu's forehead, making him whine and scream in pain at the first contact.

—Y/n is the only reason you're still alive —he mentioned, throwing the cigarette away—. If you aren't going to be useful, I won't hesitate to kill you right now.

It was the first time, after all of his visits, that Jungkook was threatening him with death. After many times going there, trying to get to a solution that would work both for Y/n and his family, his patience was up, and so was Jihu's chance to drag that moment forever. It was as if the mention of those words actually scared Jihu, because the way he looked at him from the ground completely changed.

✸ ✸ ✸

Y/n cornered herself, sitting as far away from the door as possible when she heard the steps getting close to it. The sudden lightning made her close her eyes instantly at the momentary pain, after forcing her eyes to such a sudden change. It took her too long to get used to it, because when she opened them again, it was too late. The same man who always took her her lunch, was grabbing her by the arm and pulling her whole body up so she could walk along with him without giving any problems.

A big impulse to get away from his grip was suddenly forgotten, when she saw the red finger marks around her wrists.

Whatever she did, Sanhyuk had a punishment for it. He said he wouldn't tolerate her looking at him wrongly, and he meant it. Every time she wasn't able to control her own eyes, she'd be reminded. Every time her tongue slipped one of her comments, a reaction would come right after. She ended up being aware of every muscle of her own body, and learnt to hide her own thoughts so she wouldn't feel tempted to say them out loud.

She was dragged through the house, stopping in front of a white door -that was opened by a tall and slim woman that looked down at her. And considering the poor conditions she was in, she understood.

She forgot the last time she showered -although she was sure that it wasn't in that place, not even once-, just like she forgot most of the taste of food -because she wasn't given anything else other than rice. And through her mind crossed the idea that she was being treated like a dog, but she was sure that most dogs were treated nicely than her.

The man pushed her body inside the wide bathroom, with the woman dodging her body before closing the door behind her.

—Shower —was the only word she heard from her.

Y/n wanted to refuse, she didn't want to shower while being watched. But she knew the consequences to her words, she knew what would happen the second she pronounced the "N" only. Actually, the darkness she was surrounded by was one of her punishments, because the previous day she refused eating -thinking that it'd force Sanhyuk's men to bring him to her.

Breathing deeply, she started taking her stinky clothes off. It was the first time she was disgusted by her own smell and her own body, moving her arms the least before stepping into the shower.

Despite the pressure, it was the first time in a long while her whole body felt relaxed, even lighter, under the warm water, throwing her head back while closing her eyes -as she tried to get as much of it as possible. Although, not too long after, she heard the female voice hurrying her to finish.

Only covered with a white towel, she was pushed to the chair in front of the wide mirror, where she could only see the form of her figure because of the steam. She didn't know what was going on, she just let the woman do whatever she wanted to her, seeing her through the corner of her eyes every single time she put her hands on her. She pulled her hair while brushing it and drying it, put some makeup on her face and threw all the tools she used over the sink.

It was weird. It felt weird to see her own reflection after so long, and it felt sad seeing all the marks and bruises she was indirectly protected from pointing out. She managed to get an idea of where the wounds were placed, by the way some spots in her face hurted, but she didn't think it would be that bad. And after getting the makeup done, the woman was only able to hide the biggest bruises, but the line of dry blood on her broken lip, just like the most recent -and darkest- bruise wasn't totally covered with the work she tried to do.

And it wasn't like she cared either.

When she got up from the chair, she saw a black plastic bag flying to her body -and she barely managed to catch it in the air-, followed by a pair of shoes that collapsed against the floor, before she was ordered to put them on.

New underwear, new clothes... There was something wrong going on. Although she didn't manage to see through it all until she was dragged outside the house for the first time, getting inside a gray car. Just like the day she got there, filled and surrounded by tall and thick men that wouldn't hesitate to stop every attempt at running away.

Her eyes squinted when they entered an empty pub. And judging by how bright it was outside, it didn't surprise her, but it made her feel out of place, wearing that black velvet dress, tight to her body, at that time of the day.

She kept walking through all the place, suddenly seeing some faces that seemed familiar. She wasn't sure of when she had seen some of those people, but she was sure that it wasn't in Sanhyuk's place. Or maybe it was indeed there, but losing contact with any kind of person for two weeks tricked her mind.

Her heart stopped beating when she stepped inside an office, and she was able to recognize that wide back under a black blazer, she'd be able to point out that posture out of a lot of people. And judging by his reaction when he spotted her, as she walked past him and towards the desk -motioned by Sanhyuk-, she was sure Jungkook was as surprised as her to see her there.

—I thought you'd like to see her —he shrugged, wrapping an arm around her waist—. After all, you've spent some time together —looking up to her, and switching from Korean to English, he squeezed her side—. Don't be rude, say hi.

Gulping thick, and knowing how not doing it would end up, she muttered a greeting, looking down almost immediately.

She was ashamed of the state she was in -desperate to hide the bruises and cuts that the make up wasn't able to hide-, but she also was proud, trying to hide the help she was craving while avoiding making eye contact. But it wasn't like Jungkook needed her eyes to speak, her body language was enough and Sanhyuk's possessive and cocky expression was also speaking volumes. He still looked for more though, scrolling his eyes to her arm, down to the marks on her wrists and her elbows.

—I'm treating her like a queen. Better than you, actually —Sanhyuk mocked them both—. Just like she deserves.

Jungkook had to make his best to control himself, feeling his own fists tightening next to his thighs. He knew that, when Sanhyuk interrupted the talk about territories, he'd do something to get on his nerves. But he didn't think that he'd use Y/n for it. And he almost got away with what he wanted, especially when he spanked her ass in front of him before he told her to leave them alone again.

There was nothing new coming from that meeting. Sanhyuk was the one who called him in, yet he still paid no attention to what was being said, there was no interest on his side.

—This is fun —Sanhyuk chuckled—. Any other time, you wouldn't have come. But since I have something you want, you ran here. It's so fun when tables are turned.

—Not for long though —Jungkook assured, getting up from his seat.

—We'll see —he pointed to the door—. But for now, you're the one with the tail in between your thighs.

✸ ✸ ✸

After coming back from that short visit to the pub, she was escorted back to her room. Although there was light back in there.

—Boss said that you did well. This is your reward —the voice said on her back, before he closed the door and locked it.

Breaking down, she ripped the dress and threw the heels against the wall, falling down on her knees as she hid her face on the mattress.

The fact that she had to consider a glimpse of light a reward was the only thing left she needed that day to fully lose herself, losing count of the time she spent in that position and in that state. At least until she heard voices again.

She rushed to the closet, trying to find a t-shirt, to at least cover the only naked part of her body before the door was opened. And while she expected the same man that would always bring her her lunch, she rushed to grab the shoe she threw to the wall when she saw Jungkook being pushed inside the room, before the door was closed right after.

Fast, he dodged the stiletto, but right after she was the one all over him, hitting his body annoyed, unable to understand what he was doing there. The volume of her complaints kept increasing, forcing Jungkook to cover her mouth with his hand, and holding her hand with the other, forcing her to stay still.

—I'm not supposed to be here. Shut up if you don't want either of us getting in trouble.

Days after sending her to Sanhyuk's place, he made sure to get a contact that would at least keep him updated on how she was doing. But looking at her in that moment, without all the makeup, he could tell that she was in a worse state than she was warned about. He was able to tell she looked slimmer when she got inside the office, but he had wished that was the only thing that was wrong with her. Up close, he was aware of the barely perceptible black eye, and the light bruises on her cheeks.

For a hot second, she felt grateful to see him there, and she'd have jumped right in his arms if she hadn't got back to her senses fast, getting rid of his hands and stepping back.

—What are you doing here?

—I just wanted to check on you.

Jungkook only wanted the contact temporarily, just in case there was a strange move from Sanhyuk's side. At least until he managed to find a way to get her back neatly. But he abused his power, and increased the money he'd pay after seeing her in his office. Clearly, his source wasn't as honest or aware of most of what was going on, because there was a lot of information that was being kept from him.

—I don't need anything from you —she hit his arm—. I'm not your problem anymore, so leave —she pushed him, although he barely moved—. Leave —she hit him again—. You had no issue sending me here, so leave just like that.

While her lip trembled with her words, Jungkook was able to see that thin line of blood on it. Unable to control himself, he cupped her face and rubbed his thumb under the wound, surprised by how accepting she was of his touch.

—I'm sorry —he whispered.

Y/n was taken aback by those two words, and the clear sign of regret in his eyes for the first time since they met. Both of them could feel his phone shaking in his pants constantly, but they still stayed like that.

—I'll take you out of here. I promise —Jungkook assured her again.

—Who says I want to go back with you, huh? —she pushed him again— Why would I trust you? It was so fucking easy for you...

—It wasn't —he stopped her—. You really made me have no choice. And the only reason I'm here right now is because I want you to be okay.

He was going to continue, but the constant vibration in his pocket made him sigh and finally reach for his phone. Face completely pale when he realized it was too late to get out of there like he was planning to.

—What? —Y/n asked.

—Sanhyuk is back.

If she needed a better explanation, Sanhyuk's voice from somewhere in his house confirmed what Jungkook was saying, making them look at each other nervously, as if that would give them an answer on what to do.

Taglist:@kaiparkerwifes @sheylamc @amy2006jones

[allzelemonz]

Please, Sir: Colm O’Driscoll X Male Reader

Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader is referred to as ‘man’ and ‘boy’ Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Sex, Reader is an O'Driscoll, accidental voyeurism, prostitution, witnessing anal sex, power dynamics, power imbalance, anal fingering, prostate massage, begging, praise, neck kissing, marking, possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, sex in the dirt Summary: Not interested in the O’Driscoll celebration of a successful robbery, you go for a walk in the woods and happen across a sight you will never unsee and there are consequences.

The fire light dances around the faces of drunken men, all devilishly satisfied with their newly full pockets and the company of well paid whores. Most men can barely stand, only their chosen painted women keep them upright and those that brought back boys have all retreated to their tents. You are not so inclined to the drinks or the whores. Even though the train robbery went well, plenty of rich folks had their pockets lightened and no one was hurt, it’s just not an energetic night. You’d much rather just go to sleep, but something keeps you painfully awake. Every other man has someone latched onto them while you’ve politely declined several offers of company in favor of wandering alone in the trees with the small hope that it’ll tire you out.

It doesn’t. You wind through the trees with no wavering energy until your senses are focused on a sudden noise. A whine? You step carefully around the trees, a hand on your gun as it rests in its holster. In the shadows you can see bits of white moving slightly against the trees. You approach as quietly as you can, taking some cover behind a tall stump that looks rotted and ancient. Peering past the bark, you see a sight that makes heat flood your body as you avert your eyes.

The image still flashes, even as you screw your eyes closed and lean back against the stump. One of those working boys that came to camp to entertain, bent over a rock and shed of all clothing. His face twisted in pleasure as he clawed at the hard surface beneath him. Sweat covered his body so much that it glistened in the light of the moon. And now that you sit, trying to think of anything else, the sounds fill your ears. Skin against skin, harsh and loud, only beaten out in volume by the whines and pleas from the working boy.

“Please, sir…” He whines, high and lewd. “Faster!”

He cries out and you can imagine the feeling of his prostate getting so abused that it makes you shiver.

“Such a good boy, I like them pretty words a’ yours…”

You didn’t want to think about it. The moment you saw him your brain put your attention on the working boy in an attempt to protect your sanity. But that was undeniably your boss. And now you can’t get his image out of your head. He stood behind the working boy, his hips moving intensely against the poor kid while one hand held his hip and the other dug into his back. His clothing was still on, only his pants unfastened just enough to do the job. His hair was sweaty and stuck to his forehead.

You let out a shaky breath as the working boy whimpers. A few seconds pass, then a few footsteps and a chuckle. You chance a look and find Colm fastening his pants, leaving the working boy panting against the rock with a very obvious and seemingly throbbing erection. It seems like he’s going to be leaving like that.

“Might just use ya again, boy…” Colm muses as he runs his hand over the working boy’s back. “Get on outta here now.”

The working boy flinches as Colm slaps his already reddened ass. Then he moves quickly to gather his clothes out of the dirt and scurry away. You duck back behind the stump and try to collect your breathing. You try to ground yourself, but as your hands move slightly you can feel something rather unwelcome in a moment like this. The back of your hand brushes slightly against your fully hard dick as it strains against your pants. And just as you come up with a plan to make it to a deeper spot in the woods to deal with this new problem, you hear a hammer click next to your head. You turn slowly to see your boss, his gun leveled at your head.

“Little peepin’ tom, boy?”

You shake your head as fast as your neck allows as you raise your hands in surrender. “No, sir! I just…”

“Quiet.”

You nod, attempting to swallow your nerves.

“Ya see that workin' boy?”

“Yes, sir.”

Colm wavers for a moment as his eyes wander over you, lingering uncomfortably towards something you’d rather no one see. Then he gestures down to the ground with his gun. “On yer stomach, boy.”

The thought of this possibly being an execution crosses your mind about a dozen times as you follow his instructions, laying flat in the dirt on your stomach. You feel Colm kneel down next to you and the pressure of a gun barrel on your back.

“Lie still, don’t make a fuss.” He digs the barrel into your spine.

You wince at the feeling. “Y-Yes, sir.”

The gun is gone and you can hear the hammer clicking back into its rest, then the shuffle of a holster. For a moment you're confused, then you feel Colm’s hands sliding under you. You don’t object, don’t make a fuss, as he unfastens your gun belt, you even raise your hips for him. He sets it aside and you flatten yourself again. For a moment there’s nothing, then his fingers return under you and you lift your hips again as he unfastens your pants. There’s no denying where this is going as he tugs your pants down to your ankles.

“Picked him out special.” Colm whispers as his hand travels slowly up your leg.

You hold back the urges to press into his touch, instead focusing on your breathing and trying not to look like you’ve been waiting for this to happen since you joined the gang. His fingers scratch lightly along your skin as goosebumps rise from the cold night air. He digs into your inner thigh and you can’t help the gasp that slips out from surprise.

Colm hums, low and seemingly satisfied with your reaction.

He continues along your legs and his touch begins to make your hardness ache. It’s buried in the dirt with no hope of any real friction. The ground is too loose and soft to move against and Colm would probably kill you if you tried. He hasn’t even touched you yet and you’re already desperate enough to consider fucking the ground.

Then he dips his hand far between your legs and his fingers brush against your balls. Your leg twitches of its own accord and you hold back some pathetic sound you didn’t know you could make. He kneads at them before massaging your taint, making his way to your ass. Your senses hardly work anymore and you don’t know what it is he puts on his fingers. One second his hand is gone and the next they’re cold and wet as they circle your hole. His other hand spreads one of your cheeks just enough that he can probably watch what he's doing. Your fingers curl into the dirt, dirtying your nails as you try not to move. You want so badly to buck into his fingers or hike up your leg a little more but you don’t know if he’ll get upset with you for it and the last thing you want is to have to run off hard and needy like that working boy.

Colm pauses his circling and leans over you, his lips close to your ear and his breath hot on your skin. “Picked ‘em ‘cause he looked like ya.”

Then he pushes his fingers as far in as they’ll go, the rest of his hand being the only thing that stops him from going further. You try to stop the cry but it feels so good despite the sudden sock and twinge of pain. It stretches you so nicely and you feel like more of a whore than those getting paid back in camp when you whisper a plea.

“What’s that, boy?” Colm chuckles as he scissors his fingers inside of you. “Didn’t hear ya.”

You try to catch your breath but your voice comes out so shaky that it doesn’t sound like your own. “Please, sir…”

At that, Colm crooks his finger and harshly presses against your prostate. Your toes curl and stay that way as he massages you so fast and so roughly that you can’t help the slight movement of your hips. Your skin burns and your legs start to quiver from the attention. You can feel the build growing so fast but Colm freezes, straightening his fingers and changing his motion to a slowly and simple fucking. He moves them in and out and at a steady, agonizing pace that makes you whimper despite your best efforts.

“You been a real good gun, always followin’ orders, earnin’ me money, never makin’ any fuss.” He leans back over you and his movements feel nice but they’re nothing compared to the rough treatment from before and it makes immensely more difficult not to fuck yourself on his fingers. “Yer mine, boy.”

You shutter as his other hand rests on your neck and his fingers curl into your hair with a little tug. His lips brush against the skin behind your ear and his breath feels so cold in contrast to the seering heat that boils inside of you from the arousal. He kisses your skin so lightly that you almost don’t feel it.

“Please, sir…” You breathe. “Please fuck me, sir. I’m begging you… please.”

Colm chuckles against your skin as he moves his fingers just a little faster. “I will, not tonight, but I will. You just enjoy my fingers fer now, boy.”

He tugs at your hair when his fingers return to your prostate and his lips press light kisses along your neck. You tilt your head to give him more access and feel him smile against your skin. His fingers move slowly and you try to just enjoy the sensation and ignore the throbbing of your dick against the dirt. Thankfully, Colm moves faster at a gradual pace. He punishes your prostate as his teeth graze your neck, biting down and sucking in a mark just a second later. You can’t help it as you move your hips with his fingers and he doesn’t stop you, only holding your head down and tightly pulling at your hair as he leaves possessive marks on your skin.

You release with a whine, forming Colm’s name within a mix of nonsense words of pleasure. Your head fogs and it’s only once you start to come down that you feel Colm lightly massaging you, his mouth lapping at a few of the more aggressive bite marks on your neck, and the warm feeling of your cum making dirt stick to your shirt. Colm slows his fingers in time with your breathing until you’re relaxed back against the ground and he pulls out. He releases your hair and kisses your neck more gently and you settle into his touches as if they’re those of a long time lover. His hands move in slow motions over your sides, soft and comforting.

“Come to my tent tomorrow…” Colm mumbles in between kisses. “I’ll fuck ya nice and proper.”

“Yes, sir.”

[calciumdeficientt]

also sorry to bother u but remember the jimmy x harin sibling relationship thing u did

what about that but harin is like gary’s mom figure

sorry im insane

HARIN AND GARY HCS

Im gonna keep it so real with you bestie, I do not think Gary would let anyone close to him to let them try and baby him, let alone look up to them asa mother figure. He’s pretty detached from reality, and avoidant due to his need to keep working on his plan. He’s such a little freak, he feels like he doesn’t need anyone or anything. Obviously he’s a kid, highschool age, and in the weird sort of ‘figuring yourself out’ part of high school. Where Gary differs from other students like… for the sake of argument lets just say Jimmy, is that he is, canonically mentally ill. He’s on meds for his ADHD and clearly shows signs of sociopathy. That doesn’t mean he’s incapable of love or affection or anything like that that but I would say its a pretty big hurdle for anyone to clamour over. Even then there’s no guarantee he’s gonna be receptive of it.

He takes great pleasure in sabotaging Jimmy’s school career and stepping on others to climb his way to be the king of Bullworth. He likes suffering and violence ect ect. Typical edgy teen stuff, just cranked up several notches. The only conceivable way i could see this dynamic working out is if it was one sided. Gary’s pretty skilled in manipulation, so it would make sense that Gary could get something out of the greasers by breaking down Harin. If she thinks she’s helping him, he might be let in to the clique a little easier that trying to prey on Johnny Vincent’s weak ass. Harin seems to care about him, something not reciprocated in the slightest, so he figures he could tell her some fake sob stories, get her to open up and eventually infiltrate the Greaser clique. Shady as hell but hey, that’s Gary for you.

After the events of the final showdown when he’s beaten, bruised, embarrassed and back on a cocktail of various strong medications, he could probably use a mother figure. Or some kind of positive figure. Despite probably needing one, he still lashes out when Harin comes to see him in the hospital. Maybe if she gets a job in Happy Volts he’s eventually get used to her being around and settle down. That could take anywhere from months to years though so…. Don’t get your hopes up is all I can really say

[good-beanswrites]

oomph i know i'm definitely really early with this ask (changing time zones for vacation is weird o.O) but I was thinking about it over the past few days

for the lights, camera, sing your sins au, are the interrogations somewhat scripted where the prisoner knows what to say and Es is mostly just reactions or questions to that? I feel like we've talked about this but I have forgotten jandjnf o.O

because all i can think about is Es getting beaten up or close to tears in the first voice dramas and man if it's scripted, i feel bad for the prisoners who have to do this to es o.O

Hi Mug :D No worries, a slightly late reply because I was on vacation too haha! 🍂

And I mean it's whatever works best in people's minds, but I always pictured there being very little scripted, actually! I'd hoped that everything was as natural as possible. The prisoners just have to make the little shift to act as if they did follow through with the murder instead of talk about how close it came -- other than that, everything that happens is the characters' honest questions, answers, and reactions.

When explaining the no-violence ban to everyone, Fuuta and Kazui (and later Amane) tell Jackalope how they would think during their interrogations. Jackalope instructs them all how to act in order to stay consistent with the barriers/losing strength stuff. I think the only explicitly scripted action is Mikoto's violence, since Red admits he may resort to that if Blue felt threatened. Jackalope tells him to get to the point of violence no matter how the interrogation goes, as it's necessary (to proving Mikoto's situation, to driving home the central ideas of Mikoto's case, to reveal Milgram's process and 'limits,' etc).

And yeah, it definitely tears him apart to actually do it -- he has to verify that Es signed up for this several times (which they did), and it still takes a lot of resolve to follow through with hurting an innocent kid like that. I imagine that's one of the reasons he's not really upset that Kotoko surprised everyone by intervening: he felt so guilty about the attack and was grateful someone came in to stop it.

Although it wasn't physical pain, Mahiru is also really upset that she brought Es such emotional strain. She thinks it's cruel to fool them into feeling bad for her when she's okay, and it takes a lot of reassurance from the others to convince her it's for the sake of the experiment -- every part of the process has toyed with everyone's emotions, she's not a terrible person for doing so.

Whether in the middle of the trial or the final executions, I think any characters who die next trial will also feel awful for making Es mourn for them when they're still alive. It's not all one-sided guilt, though. It's balanced by anger/sorrow towards Es for condemning them to death in the first place because of their decisions. Any time they get too caught up in thinking "I'm so cruel for tricking them like this," they have a moment of "well, they did specifically order my death, so..."

When I'm looking for a pure fix-it, I'll let those emotions go pretty easily <3 But unfortunately my writer ass is never free from The Themes asdfsdf and sometimes I still get caught up in the project's major focus -- not only is Es facing the original Milgram dilemma of choosing whether or not to follow authority, but now the prisoners are faced with the exact same decision. Do they physically/mentally hurt this child "for the experiment?" Because someone in authority told them to? They're doing this to prove a point about justice and fairness, but where should they draw the line? At what point is it not for the greater good and they are just causing more harm?

I think I mentioned it before but in this au the prisoners are extremely motivated by the promise that this experiment will help others like them. Yuno wants to make a statement about society's views on abortion and sex work. Muu wants to make a difference for bullying victims. Kazui hopes to be a voice for all those who have had to keep theirs quiet about something. Mikoto hopes his story creates more awareness and acceptance for people who are usually terribly stereotyped and feared. Kotoko wants to bring to light the problem of corruption and what can be done about it, and so on. In the end, they can always justify causing a little emotional/physical harm because they are doing it for a good reason.

[nixie-writes]

Here's something I wrote while high on pain pills

I pulled the plot for this out of my ass and it's a little wonky because I was feeling wonky and now I'm wearing a wrist brace lol. Under the cut because it's 8 pages long lmao

Willow belongs to @willowaudreykeyes , Nixie belongs to me

Willow’s POV

It was a long day. I had many patients today, most of them arriving hoping to get narcotics, which I rarely prescribe. A lot of Hell has drug abusers. I did, however, prescribe Xanax to a young trans girl who had panic attacks when she thought about her family abandoning her. I felt bad for the poor thing, alone in a world that doesn’t support trans people very well. Regardless it had been a long day and I was ready to retire for the night. 

At least, that was the plan. I was taking off my bloody gloves when Alastor burst into my office, the body of a small child in his arms. The sinner child couldn’t have been older than 5. He was beaten, bruised and bloody. How did he end up in Hell? I motioned Alastor to put him on my operating table so I could get a better look at him. 

I parted his black hair and found a healed bullet wound. That explained how he died; it must have been recently if he still had the scar. I looked down at his arms and saw several scrapes but nothing severe. He had a stab wound in his stomach, covered by his hand. He seemed reluctant to let me see it. I gently pulled his hand away and examined the stab wound. It was shallow and not bleeding heavily, likely caused by a kitchen knife. His kneecap was busted, he would never walk properly again. The bone was shattered, I could feel the pieces beneath his skin. When I touched his kneecap he cried out in pain, recoiling. I moved on to his other knee, which appeared fine. Aside from the shallow stab wound and his busted kneecap he was okay; I could get him bandaged in no time flat. 

“Alastor, where did you find him?” I asked; Alastor looked away. “I caught a gang of demons hitting him. They’re past tense now but they were beating him badly. I found him like this,” Alastor explained in a hurried voice. “Can you help him?” Alastor begged. I knew he had a soft spot for children but he seemed especially concerned for this child. “I’ll need some supplies from the living world to patch up his stab wound, can you sit with him until I’m back? The bleeding has stopped but I imagine he doesn’t want to be left alone,” I requested. Alastor nodded his head in response. “I’ll take good care of him my dear,” he promised. 

Nixie’s POV

I was busy with Niffty, folding up clothes. I tried my best to mimic the perfect way she folded towels but I was no good at it. “Don’t worry Miss Nixie, you’ll get it eventually!” She encouraged me. I appreciated that she believed in me. I slowly folded a towel, freezing when I heard a door fly open. It was probably Angel coming back to the hotel high off his ass on Xanax again, so I ignored it and continued folding. 

I was almost done folding the clothes with Niffty when Willow appeared in the door frame. “Nixie, a word please?” She requested. I patted Niffty on the head and walked to the door frame, leaning on it. “What’s up?” I inquired, leaning on the door ledge. Willow told me about a young sinner child who came in severely beaten and she needed products from the living world to fully take care of him. I rose back to full height, surprised at what she told me. 

“Can I come? You know Hellborns can enter the living world,” I persisted. Willow looked hesitant but sighed and gave in. “Yeah, you can come. More arms to carry more supplies,” she agreed. I dusted off my work uniform and followed Willow to her room, where she drew portals to visit the living world. This was my first time visiting the human world so I wanted to present my best. 

Willow took a pen to her wall and drew a circle with odd symbols. “I assume the guy with a cane stuck up his ass taught you that?” Willow rolled her eyes. “No; I’m part angel, remember? I can transverse dimensions too. I learned this from Lucifer,” she explained as she finished the circle. The portal glowed and opened, revealing a blue sky, green grass and fresh air. It was a far cry from the stifling hot air of Hell. Willow stepped through the portal and I followed. 

Taking in a deep breath I sighed happily. “I could get used to this place, I see why sinners miss it so much,” I commented. I glanced over at Willow, who had taken a human form. Her hair was still brown but her skin was almond colored and she only had two arms. “What happened to you??” I asked incredulously. Willow rolled her eyes. “In the human world you have to take up a disguise so no one suspects you’re a demon,” she explained as if she expected me to know that. 

Lifting my head I imagined how I would look as a human - blue wavy hair, pale skin and with the same body type I had now. Taking a deep breath I concentrated as hard as I could and I felt magic swirling around me. When I opened my eyes I only saw out of one, the other blinded. It was weird not having depth perception. 

“It gets easier with time,” Willow assured me as she took off at a brisk pace. I followed after her, glancing around. Insects with pretty wings fluttered around. One flew right in my face and I jumped back. “Nixie, it's a butterfly,” Willow sighed. “They’re harmless. It just wants to know if you’re a flower or not,” I stood still while the insect landed on my hand and examined me with its proboscis, tasting my skin. I shuddered at the sight, I did not like the insects in the living world. After a few moments the butterfly lifted back up into the sky. “They’re pretty from a distance but I don’t want one on me ever again,” I commented as we continued our journey. 

As we briskly walked we came upon a garden. The flowers were many colors, more than the shades of red in Hell. I plucked a yellow flower with star-shaped petals and presented it to Willow. “What plant is this?” I inquired. Willow sighed, rubbing her temple. “It’s a daffodil Nixie. We need to keep going,” she insisted. I buried the flower so it could regrow and followed Willow, who was getting more irritated with me every time I stopped. 

We left the park behind us and found ourselves in a small city. Willow looked around, presumably trying to find the building where her supplies would be. I noticed a sign on a small gas station that advertised cigarettes. “Willow you stay here, I gotta make a pit stop,” I told her, walking towards the gas station.

Upon entering the gas station I was met with a rainbow of lights, blinding me for a moment. Glancing around I found the employee and approached him. “Hey bud, a pack of Newport 100’s please,” I requested. He asked for my ID. Luckily I was smart enough to have a fake one made by a sinner. I presented it and he looked at it for a full 3 seconds before passing it back to me and grabbing my cigarettes. I handed him the cash I had in my pocket and left, opening the pack to smoke a cigarette real quick.

Willow’s POV

I watched as Nixie entered the gas station, my face dead panned. I thought she came to help but instead she’s on a tour of this city. I couldn’t go looking in supermarkets for my supplies until she came out, I needed her help carrying supplies. I watched as she exited the gas station, lighting a cigarette in the process. I stomped over to her. 

“Nixie, the hell are you doing? We have an injured child and you’re worried about cigarettes??” Nixie shrugged. “They’re cheaper here than they are in Hell,” she reasoned. It was a good reason to take advantage of the cheap prices. 

“Well, keep your cancer stick away from me and let’s get these supplies,” I told her, taking her free hand to make sure she didn’t wander off again, and made my way through the city looking for the medical store. 

Alastor’s POV

With the two women gone I was left alone with a sobbing child. It was awkward. If this were an adult I would take immense pleasure in seeing them writhe in pain but this poor child was suffering and for once, I felt bad for him. 

“Tell me kiddo, who sent those demons to beat you?” I asked him, trying to weasel out information about my next target. The child coughed, his body wracking with the effort. “My… my father,” he replied. “He thought I was a mistake and wanted me gone,” he explained between grunts of pain. I felt a fire light inside my chest. Every child deserves a loving parent, but not every parent deserves a child. “What’s your name sweetheart?” I cooed, trying to relax the child. He looked at me for a moment before staring back up at the ceiling. “My name is Andrew,” he stated. So, Andrew’s father put out a hit on him. I knew a certain demon who talked about his unwanted son Andrew. I’d pay him a less than savory visit later, but for now I was focused on Andrew, who had his hands covering his stomach wound as though he was protecting it. 

“It hurts,” Andrew whined. I wasn’t sure what to do but I knew Willow had a stash of painkillers in her safe, and I knew the combination. Opening the safe I pulled out a bottle that read Tylenol. I knew it was a painkiller and emptied two pills into my hand. I put away the pill bottle and turned back to Andrew, filing a cup with water. “These pills will help with your pain. They’re not big, they're easy to swallow.” I soothed him as I approached. I held him down by his shoulders and dropped the two pills in his mouth, holding the glass of water to his lips. He drank fervently, swallowing the pills. “Can I have more? I’m so thirsty,” he sounded hoarse. I didn’t like it but I would have to use Nixie’s water to hydrate him. I reached into Willow’s fridge and pulled out a bottle of Nixie’s water. I held it to Andrew’s lips and he guzzled the water. When he finished he laid back down on the table, a little more light in his eyes. 

“I miss my mother,” Andrew hummed. I cocked my head to one side. “Where is she?” I inquired. “She’s still alive as far as I know,” he replied. I placed my chin on one hand, the other on my leg. “So how did your father die?” I asked. Andrew shrugged. “I don’t know. He never liked to be around me,” he explained. I felt my anger towards Andrew’s father continue to grow. 

“Don’t worry about it, try to get some rest,” I suggested as I placed a blanket over Andrew. He snuggled into the bed and shifted onto his side. His stomach was no longer bleeding and the scab looked good enough to hold. Exhausted, I sat in Willow’s chair and opened a book. How she did this every day was beyond me. 

Willow’s POV

I held Nixie’s hand like she was a toddler and finally found a supermarket that sold the stuff I needed for my patient. I pulled her inside and released her hand. “You have a little money, spend it wisely,” I warned her as I walked off to the pharmacy. I noticed Nixie running to the candy like a child and rolled my eyes. 

I approached the pharmacist. “Hello, I need bandaging, rubbing alcohol and self-adhesive sports wraps, please,” I requested. I knew I couldn’t make a cast for the kid’s knee but I could at least clean him up and wrap his knee so it doesn’t hurt as bad. The pharmacist looked like she really didn’t want to be there, but turned into the pharmacy to get what I requested. As I was waiting I noticed Nixie approaching me, eating peach rings. “Are you gonna be done with those before I need your help?” I inquired. She nodded, popping another one in her mouth. “I’m almost done, and it doesn’t look like anyone’s in a rush to get what you asked for,” she noted. I hated that she was right. Would they move faster if they knew it was for a kid?

While we were waiting a young man approached us, brushing his hair back with his hand. “What’s two pretty little things like you two doing alone? Don’t you want a man to protect you?” He asked, flexing his tricep while he brushed back his hair. Before I could respond Nixie snapped at him, “we both have men, we’re not interested,” she retorted. The man scoffed. “Clearly they weren’t interested in making sure you two were safe.” I could see Nixie’s one magenta eye narrowing, she looked ready to pounce on him. He turned his attention to me and approached me. “I’m sure I could show you things your boyfriend could never do for you,” he suggested. I didn’t understand the context, but before I could ask Nixie walked up behind him and kicked the back of his knees, making him fold to the ground. She grabbed him by a pressure point and pressed down hard enough to leave a mark. “I believe I said we both have men,” she growled. In her anger she was beginning to lose her human form, water dripping from her fingers. 

“Nixie, I think he gets the message,” I insisted. She snorted contemptuously but let him go. He spun on us. “You’re both a pair of bitches, you know that? I could do so much better than almond milk and the feminist behind me,” he snarled as he stood up to leave. Nixie grabbed a box of batteries and threw them at the back of his head and they landed. He held the back of his head but didn’t turn around as he left. I looked at Nixie. “ What did he mean by showing me something Alastor can’t?” Nixie just sighed heavily. “He was trying to have sex with you,” she responded in a blunt tone. She noticed the water dripping from her fingers and hastily wiped the water onto her work shirt to hide the evidence. 

“You almost lost your human disguise there,” I warned her. Nixie nodded slowly. “It’s harder than it looks to hold up a human disguise,” she retorted. “I have to focus on keeping this form and I just want to get back to Hell so I don’t have to wear a disguise for hours on end,” she muttered the last few words but I heard them. 

The pharmacist, who I’m sure hid during Nixie’s little spur with the guy who approached us, handed me my supplies. “Rubbing alcohol, bandaging and sports wrap, right here for you ma’am,” she passed the supplies to me. Nixie ate her last peach ring and threw away her wrapper. “What do you want me to carry?” She offered. I passed her the sports wrap. “Don’t get it wet or it won’t stick,” I told her. She nodded, tucking it under her arm. “Let’s get out of this pisshole,” Nixie suggested as she made her way to the exit of the supermarket.

Nixie’s POV

I took the quickest path out of the supermarket, rushing for fresh air. I had the sports wrap tucked under my arm just in case I began to lose my physical form again. Willow paced after me at a brisk speed, finally catching up to me. “That guy really got under your skin huh?” She mused. I rolled my good eye. “What bothered me was that he was trying to get you in bed with him; it’s perverse and nasty to pick up random girls when they’re alone or in a small group,” I ranted on for a moment, Willow nodding her head in agreement. 

“I wasn’t exactly comfortable with it either,” she agreed. “I was just wishing Alastor would form out of nowhere and handle him,” she admitted. I scoffed. “What, was I not your knight in shining armor? Am I not red enough?” I joked, giving her a snarky smile. Willow giggled; “no, you dispatched him just fine,” she replied. 

I grabbed a piece of chalk and passed it to Willow. “Get us out of here, I want to go back to the correct Hell-hole,” I told her. She got on her knees and drew a crude circle with the same symbols from earlier. Willow pricked her finger and dropped the blood onto the drawing and it opened a portal to Hell. She hopped down first and I followed her, happy to drop my human disguise. 

Alastor’s POV

I read a book while Andrew slept. His sleep was fitful, it sounded like he was having nightmares. I would have woken him up but I don’t know how to comfort a child after a nightmare. I am a nightmare. I looked up from my book here and there to make sure Andrew was comfortable. He occasionally mumbled incoherently, curling up under the blanket. 

I stood up from my chair and gently patted Andrew on the head. “There there, the nightmare is just that - a nightmare. The real world isn’t as bad as you think it is,” I tried to comfort him as he slept. As though he could hear my voice he relaxed a little, settling down in the bed. I sat down again and went back to my book. 

About two hours had passed when I heard the hotel door open. I didn’t hear Angel flaunting whoever he had sex with. I didn’t hear Charlie talking excitedly to Vaggie about hotel campaigns. In fact, I didn’t hear anything. Leaving the room and closing the door I walked to see who entered and froze in the spot. A demon, very similar to Andrew, stood in the foyer. 

“I want my son,” he demanded in a growl. I forced myself to not look in the direction of the clinic. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied. I knew he wanted Andrew. The demon approached me and grabbed me by the wrist. “Give me the boy or I’ll make sure you’re in the same condition he’s in,” he threatened. I snarled, grasping him by the throat. “No one who threatens the Radio Demon makes it out alive,” I threatened in return. I knew I could kill him with no effort. But I knew that Andrew, a 5 year old, still loved his father regardless of what he did to him. I didn’t want to hurt the boy. I threw the demon to the ground. “Leave this hotel or I’ll drag your soul through every circle of Hell,” I warned him. I really didn’t want to crush Andrew by killing his father but it seemed like I didn’t have much of a choice. 

The demon stared at me in uncertainty. Standing up he paced back a few feet. I already knew he was farcing an exit, and I was ready for him to rush at me. So when he did I summoned a tentacle, grabbing him by the arm. It pulled him down and he fought against it feebly. “The hell is this?!” The demon demanded. I snorted. “I warned you,” I taunted. Another tentacle grasped him by the throat, pulling him down to the ground. He writhed to get free but the tentacles only tightened. He was suffocating. For a split moment I worried about having to tell Andrew his father was dead but I couldn’t show this demon mercy. Not when he put out a hit on a child. The tentacle around his neck tightened until all he could make out were spitted nonsense. I watched with glee as he choked on his own vomit. His writhing had stopped, he had lost too much oxygen to move. He began twitching violently as his muscles restricted and begged for air. He jerked harshly for about 30 seconds before falling limp. I waited until I knew he was dead before I removed the tentacles. I approached his dead body and kicked him in the stomach. “Killing a child. No class,” I chastised him before turning around and entering the clinic. 

Andrew was wide awake, laying down, eyeing me with fear. “I heard my father. What did you do to him?” I didn’t want to go into detail about how I slowly killed his father. “He won’t be around to hurt you anymore,” I promised him. “Now get some more rest, the ladies will be back soon with the supplies they need for your wounds.” Andrew closed his eyes and steadied his breathing, swiftly falling asleep again. I sat down in my chair and returned to my book. 

Willow’s POV

Now that we were back in Hell I could carry all the supplies. Nixie gave me the sports wrap, surprisingly dry, and we headed back to the hotel. Nixie pulled out her phone and opened her GPS. “Alright, take two rights and a left and we’ll be there,” she instructed. I nodded my head in agreement. “I hope that kid’s okay, he’s been through so much,” I mused. Nixie hummed. “Alastor is watching over him. I don’t trust the guy with you but he would never hurt a child,” she assured me. I nodded my head in agreement. “Of course, he would never hurt a kid,” I reasoned with myself. It wasn’t him I was worried about. I was worried I couldn’t help the kid and I’d fail him, but I would never voice my insecurities to Nixie. She’d just go on a tangent about the patients I’ve helped and how capable I am of helping. Which is usually what I need to hear but right now, with a child’s life on the line, nothing could comfort me. 

Nixie and I followed the GPS, eventually arriving at the hotel. I fished out my key and opened the door, and gasped in horror. Lying on the floor of the foyer was a demon who looked eerily similar to the child I was caring for, dead on the ground. I approached the body to examine how he died. He had constriction marks on his throat and left wrist. He was suffocated to death. He hadn’t even begun to smell, this murder was recent. I knew who was capable of this - Alastor. Had the child’s father come back for him? I would never give up the kid to his father after what he’d been through but murder seemed excessive. Carrying my supplies I stepped over the body and entered the clinic. The kid was asleep and Alastor was reading a book. I cleared my throat and he glanced up, dog-earing the page he was on. I sat down my supplies as quietly as I could so as to not wake my patient and I beckoned him outside of the clinic. “Mind explaining the body in the foyer?” I inquired suspiciously. Alastor smiled ever so sweetly at me. “My dear, that was Andrew’s - the boy’s - father. He put a hit on his kid because he never wanted kids.  I simply gave him what he tried to give Andrew.”

I crossed one set of arms, propping my hand on my chin with the other set. “Well he’s certainly a piece of shit but how do you plan on explaining to Andrew that his father is dead?” I asked him. “Ho ho! I’ve already told him. He looked relieved.” Alastor never made a move to help someone in need unless it benefited him, but here he was killing a child’s father because his father simply never wanted kids. 

Nixie peered around the corner of the clinic. “I hate to interrupt your makeout session but we have a patient to attend to and I have a meeting in an hour. Could we get this show on the road?” I rolled my eyes at her crassness. “Of course, let’s take care of Andrew,” I agreed. 

I gently roused Andrew and told him to lay flat on the table on his back so I could see the stab wound. It had scabbed over by now but still needed to be cleaned. I split the skin open and Andrew whined. I motioned for Nixie to give me the rubbing alcohol and she passed it to me, looking away as I poured it into Andrew’s wound. He cried out in pain. “It burns!” He wailed. I waited for his sobbing to end. “It only burns because it’s cleaning the wound. It’ll be fully healed in about a week,” I told him. It still surprised me how fast sinners healed from their injuries. 

Afterward I requested the bandaging and Nixie handed it over to me, willing herself to watch me at work. I gently wrapped his abdomen and back in the bandaging to stop any bleeding and prevent the scab from tearing again. I waved for the sports wrap and Nixie approached me with it. She examined Andrew. “He looks like he’s been through literal hell,” she commented. Andrew laughed wryly. “You could say that,” he hissed through clenched teeth as I wrapped his shattered kneecap. “No walking for two weeks, we’ll take care of you here,” I told Andrew. He nodded, eyes closed in pain. 

Nixie’s POV

While Alastor and Willow were tending to Andrew I went back to the foyer, where the dead body lay. I knew Alastor was going to eat the corpse eventually but I didn't want him to get blood stains on the carpet again and drive Niffty into a flurry. Grabbing him under the arms I hauled him out of the hotel, kicking the door open behind me. I dragged the corpse to the back of the hotel, away from prying eyes. No one would see Alastor eat him. I knew his sense of smell was keen and he’d find the body with no issue. 

Entering the hotel again I changed into more casual clothes - a pair of yoga pants and an oversized t-shirt. I sat down at my computer and opened Zoom, preparing for my meeting. 

Thirty minutes passed and no one had joined the meeting so I clicked off. Clearly the meeting wasn’t being held today. I walked my way to the clinic to check on Andrew. He was fast asleep and Willow was tinkering with some bottles of mysterious fluid. When she noticed my arrival she gave me a hush signal. As quietly as I could, I slipped up behind her. “What are you doing?” I whispered. Willow hummed. “I’m trying to make fertilizer for more of Hell’s plants.” So essentially what she always did. I walked to the door, waving. “I’m gonna do my own thing, you have fun,” I whispered as I left. 

I noticed Husk was actually attending the bar for once and approached the bar, planning to only have one drink. I sat down on an empty stool and requested a sex on the beach. He lifted an eyebrow in doubt but said nothing as he prepared my drink. When he passed it to me I chugged it like a shot of vodka, it was gone before it melted the ice. I was already tipsy but I had a stressful day and dammit I deserve to unwind. “Give me a shot of whiskey,” I slurred. Husk shook his head in disappointment and passed me a shot of whiskey. It burned my throat and chest going down but I wasn’t about to pussy out. I drank the entire shot in three gulps. 

“I’m impressed. Not many demons can chug straight whiskey,” Husk complimented. I giggled, most definitely intoxicated. “Oh Husk, you’re so funny! You know my body waters down the alcohol so it isn’t as strong, silly.” I was hardly aware of myself when a hand patted me on the shoulder. I looked over to see Willow. “Nix, I think you’ve had enough. It’s time for you to go to bed,” she suggested, Alastor behind her nodding his head in agreement. I lifted a finger to her face; “you’re not my mom,” I slurred, but obeyed her, standing up to walk to my room. “Goodnight kitty!” I called out in a sloppy voice before retiring to my room. Alastor sighed. 

Willow’s POV

“So, when’s the wedding?” I teased Husk. He snorted. “Ask that again and I’ll find a way to make you drink toilet water,” he threatened. I just shrugged him off. “I’m going to bed too, wanna join me? You can read a book while I sleep,” I offered. Alastor nodded his head; “I’d love to,” he agreed. We ascended the stairs to Alastor’s room for the night. Changing into my nightgown I asked him, “are you going to eat that body?” Alastor chuckled darkly. “Let’s just say they won’t find the remains”. 

[blackjackkent]

OK, off to the Foundry. Very imposing, very LARGE building right near where we saved Volo, surrounded by a number of wrought iron gates and, of course, several Watchers.

After breaking through the gate, got a kind of fun little interaction between Karlach and Jaheira:

"These Steel Watchers are big as hell!" "All the more cracks and crevices for a wild-shape to ferret into - gum up the works a little." "[laughs] I'd give my other horn to watch that!"

XD

Tragically I don't have the option to actually play this out, because the smallest form I'm allowed to transform Jaheira into is a cat. But it does provide an entertaining mental image.

I was going to try for a sneakysneak approach to get inside (in the hopes of avoiding fighting any more Steel Watchers until after we'd gotten the lay of the land) but unfortunately there's a guard waiting just inside the door and Hector biffed his attempt at bluffing his way inside (unsurprisingly). So we did have to fight one guy so I'm not sure if this counts as sneakysneak anymore.

Jaheira comment as we start wandering through the factory: "Someday I will sit down. I mean it." I love her. I will stop saying this never.

(Unironically I have gone down such a Jaheira mental rabbit hole since getting into Act III and starting to bring her places. I liked her a lot in BG1/2 but most of my feels were more centered around Caden and Aerie and Rasaad, but I've really been starting to get The Feels about her in recent weeks.)

Stepping through the big inner door and it seems we got here just in time for a showdown happening between the Gondians and their guards.

My initial thought was that Gortash gave a kill order when he learned his hostages were no longer hostaged - but it is much better. THE GNOMES ARE RISING! \o/

"You have beaten and tormented us to the brink of insanity! You cut out my eyes! But we will bow no more! GONDIANS! Rip the Motivator from this bastard's hands! FOR GOND!"

FUCK YEAH GET HIS ASS! WE'RE WITH YOU!

[whumpster-dumpster]

So I'm obscenely late to the whump awakening thing, and I can see that several people have referenced Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles in some form, but no mention of the original 1990 movie? I swear that film is a core memory for me and my OG experience of whumperflies.

For those who missed it, Raphael gets ambushed, horribly beaten up and chucked through a ceiling, and what follows is everything I adore in whump: Caretakers having to fight to get his unconscious ass out (with that wonderful line of "Is he...?" "No, he's alive; barely." 🤌) Then the escape with his limp body in tow, an extended period of unconsciousness where no-one really knows what to to besides wait and hope, and everyone's worrying in their own way, and then there's one caretaker who just refuses to leave his side for days, and it's all just so damn delicious!! 🥰🥰🥰

Delicious it surely is! That was an early whump experience for me too, I was pleased that later series would do scenes in that similar vein (although usually to Leo)! Good stuff, good stuff