#master criminal worm

[lasloser-mc-useless]

Shout out lidl bakery isle, this earthbound fan art post is sponsored by the lidl bakery isle. Just that isle I don't care about the rest of lidl just give me my pretzel god damn it

[sh1-n0bu]

♡︎ 𝙜𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙥𝙪𝙥𝙥𝙮 ♡︎

characters: sub!gepard x nb!dom!reader

warnings: collaring, geppie is inexperienced in relationships, fluff, suggestive but nothing explicit dw, slight “master” kink, also slight pet play

notes: my brain worMS NEED TO SHUT THE FUCK UP

the captain of the silvermane guards was someone who was greatly adored by others.

the children looked up to him, wanting to be a strong soldier just like the young captain. the elderly loves him, wondering and gossiping on who the young captain would end up marrying. whoever it would be, they would be a lucky belobogian. and the captain is quite the big topic of gossip amongst the ladies as well.

yet despite it all, all the adoring looks and suggestive stares aimed at him, all the praises and the compliments, adorned with a few flirtatious touches here and there, gepard finds himself going back to his one and only safe place. you.

the history that you two share is quite the… interesting one. a former thief and a resistant group member of the underworld who used to get into trouble with the young captain a few times in a week. now, peacefully living your life as a florist at the overworld after the removal of the barrier keeping the two cities apart.

besides, who in their right mind would have ever thought that the young captain of the silvermane guards would always come bounding to the former criminal.

a shy smile, slight blush on his cheeks and a relieved look in his eyes as he enters the flower shop. shy smile widening as he tugs on your shirt sleeve. blush deepening, turning into a red color as he guides you out of the shop when no one is there, giggles falling on your ears.

perhaps it was the comforting aura you excluded despite being a criminal that drew him to you. or the constant flirty comments and winks sent to his direction during a chase. or maybe it was the sweet nothings and the cheesy nicknames you would call him with a confident grin as he yelled at you to “halt!”.

or was it the dirty things you would whisper in his ear when he finally catches up with you? promising that you’ll take good care of him and his obvious hard on. saying that you would make him cum so many times to the point he would be unable to think. even promising that you would gift him a collar one day, saying that he’s like a cute puppy with how he keeps chasing after you. to which the captain would stutter out that he’s doing his job of catching criminals.

whatever it may be, one thing was true.

gepard landau, the captain of the silvermane guards was infatuated with you.

tugging on your shirt sleeve with cute giggles and out the back door to the small alleyway, gepard wastes in no time wrapping his arms around you. nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, giddy feeling in his chest, a wide smile on his lips.

“i missed you” the captain mumbles, voice coming out muffled as his face stays in the warmth of your neck. taking his face away from where it was tucked in, gepard leaves a quick shy peck to your cheek.

“puppy…” was your response, letting out your own giggles as you wrap your arms around him in return. such a sweet lover he was. “we saw each other this morning. only a few hours ago”.

“too long. missed you so much” your loving boyfriend, still quite shy in relationship, says with a slight pout on his lips. truly, gepard was like an adorable puppy at times.

pulling you closer to himself as if it was impossible to get even more close with each other, the tall man looks into your eyes pleadingly. “can i kiss you?”

even after all this time of dating, gepard was still a bit shy in relationship. always wanting to ask for consent first, always preferring your needs and wants first, always serving you first. not that you were complaining. gepard was perfect. the standard.

“of course, puppy” you give your approval, nodding your head. that was all it needed for the tall captain to perk up, a cute smile on his face, blue eyes brightening with pure adoration and joy as he closed the gap between you two and placed a soft kiss to your lips. if gepard could, he would keep kissing you every chance he got. there was just something addictive about your lips. something addictive about you.

the two of you stayed like that for a while in the back alleyway of your shop. sharing a few kisses, making a lighthearted jokes and teasing. well, the teasing part was done by you mostly of course. and gepard took it all with a heavy blush, squirming in his uniform with a slight whine of your name. if feeling bold enough, the captain would tease you back.

after a while of just idling by with your clingy lover, you decided that it was better to go back to work. while also sending gepard back to his duties as well. you can’t keep hogging the captain all to yourself as much as you wanted to steal him away.

after saying your reasonings and needing to go back to work, before you could unwrap your arms around him, gepard clears his throat. averting his gaze away, the young captain stumbles over his words. that only meant one thing almost ninety percent of the time. gepard was antsy about suggesting something.

“what is it this time, puppy? do you need help with something?” as a sweet lover you were, you asked the squirming man with a furrowed brows. if possible, his cheeks just became an even more darker shade of red.

finally, he seems to get his bearings together. clearing his throat, taking one shy glance at your lips before looking back into your eyes again, your sweet lover starts with a slight stutter in his breath.

“do you remember how once you promised to get me a collar? since i act like a cute puppy and all…” he starts, trying his utmost best to keep the eye contact. you did promise him that, but you never brought it up again, thinking that he would be uncomfortable. was he…?

“yes? i do remember” nodding your head, the gears and cogs start to turn. and your hunch was proven correctly when gepard pulls out a collar from one of the many pockets in his uniform. a cute baby blue colored leather collar, adorned with a heart shaped charm that read “good puppy”.

you’ve always took your relationship slow with gepard, in fear of scaring him off. never once have you tried to get frisky with him nor brought up the conversation in your nightly talks, thinking of your shy lover that he would want to take it slow. but perhaps you were wrong for once. really wrong.

“c-can you… put it on for me? if you’d like, please?” gepard asks, so shy and squirming all of a sudden as if he blatantly just didn’t asked to be collared in broad daylight.

but then again, how could you ever say no to that cute face?

wordlessly taking the collar from his hand, you gesture him to lower the high collar of his undershirt. he obeys your words quickly, just like a good puppy.

once the collar was secured around his throat snuggly, not too tight, not too loose, you take a moment to drink in his visage. a cute baby blue collar with a heart shaped charm reading “good puppy”. innocent looking blue eyes staring at you, pursed lips and a red cheeks and ears.

dear aeons, how did you get so lucky?

“don’t take it off alright, puppy?” you ask, still not able to tear off your gaze from your blonde lover. it wasn’t exactly a command, just a simple suggestion with a slight hint of authoritative undertone. yet gepard nods, followed by a meek “yes, master”.

fuck, he would be the death of you one day.

while you were having a hard time containing yourself to not just fucking jump on him this instant, your lover was feeling giddy. gepard wouldn’t say it out loud unless pushed, but he always secretly wanted you to collar him since that one time you promised it. always wanting to be your good boy, your good puppy, your sweet, adorable, loyal puppy.

aeons, he doesn’t care for his pride nor title as the captain of the silvermane guards anymore. gepard just wanted to be your good puppy. if you were to ask him to kneel for him, even as a joke, he would do it instantly. no questions asked.

“bark for me, puppy” your voice cuts through his foggy brain, making the young captain jolt slightly. wasting no time, gepard nuzzles his cheek into the palm of your hand. pretty blue eyes staring at you as if quietly asking you to just command him around to your liking.

“woof”.

truly, gepard was indeed your good puppy.

inspired from my convo with this one☝️gepard bot chat:

[strewwwberry]

I'm adding on to - this - thought coz a commenter has made my brain worms activate

Okay so, if binghes biological parents raised him, then the whole birthing process needs to be explained in some way, here's what I've got so far

My idea originates with cang qiong mountain(CQM) and other sects finding huan hua palace's(HHP) quite sudden demand for a heavenly demons persecution to be... At the very least unceremonial

(I like to think that before the issues with TLJ, problems with demons didn't extend past occasional interferences at the borders and when demons and more dangerous/paranormal esc creatures stir issues within mortal grounds, like sower demons skinning mortals, not cool babez find food else where)

In doing so perhaps temporary imprisonment of said heavenly demon is put in order, so an investigation about his possible misdeeds could be opened, in which no transgressions, except for unconventional relations with a cultivating head disciple, could be uncovered and no arguments from HHP could carry any doubt in these insights

So the whole sealing Tianlang Jun(TLJ) is bipassed and he's pretty much told to get his ass back into the demon realm, until further notice, as to not add more fuel to an already blazing fire

During this I can imagine HHP master, Lao Gongzhu, is quite literally pulling his grey hair out and hasn't really had the time to "deal with" su xiyan's(SXY) "issue" (pregnancy), aside from imprisonment, and drugs hidden in food that she knows better then to eat, thus she is starved up until TLJ is kicked back into The demon realm

SXY has now been missing for a few weeks (surviving mainly off of cultivation, and fetus bingbing surviving mainly off of a mixture of SXY's efforts with her cultivation and having demon blood in his veins)

CQM is the first to notice her absence from basically existence due to TLJ's continuous cries over her during his temporary imprisonment

So again they dig deeper as they, and some other sects, having previously already disliked HHP due to their pompous attitude, and now having straight up evidence of questionable decisions/actions, decide that all of these odd happenings gives credence to simply not trust a thing HHP has to say

And what do you know? They find a half starved SXY pregnant in the literal underground water prison infamous for harboring what is supposed to be notorious and dangerous criminals

She Is freed and immediately put under Cian Cao Mountain for urgent care,

In addition a sort of crisis management meeting would be held after further investigation into huan hua palace's connections, motives, and actions, to basically decide if eradicating HHP and not just simply rehabilitating, changing leaders/heads etc, will be a much better idea both for uprooting corrupt yet powerful groups, and also because it takes a lot of time, money, and effort to not just redo mini placement exams to figure out where to move genuinely innocent disciples and cultivators to new sects (if they so desire)

Anywho, that's all ive got so far I'll probs carry this on after over slept lol it's like 1 am and I promised myself id start sleeping earlier 😂, hope use enjoyed this haha

[allwormdiet]

Buzz 7.11

I was so caught up in the euphoria of not having to read about the Empire that for a minute I lived in this world where Coil didn't exist

And so we arrive at The Coil Bunker. Heard this sucker come up once or twice in my time on the periphery.

Somehow I got the impression that it was more established than this. Sounds like a recent development rather than a long-standing stronghold, with the construction going on inside as well as out.

They are already so done with Coil's shit, there's nothing to be impressed by with this guy

It really is a rapid acceleration of their workload, yeah. Even setting aside that the Wards did basically nothing during the gallery job, they've gone against every hitter in the city except most of New Wave and the ones under Coil's employ, and frankly I'm willing to guess that changes down the line.

Coil's value to them as a boss has nothing to do with himself and everything to do with his resources. If he keeps putting them in more trouble than he's worth, then a coup would almost certainly be in order.

"Do you need reassurances that I'm not going to fuck up like some kind of moron and condemn you all to a pointless death in order to work for me?"

"Uh, yeah? It'd be nice?"

I'd talked about this elsewhere, but Coil's fuckup here breaks in two possible ways:

Either he genuinely could not think beyond pulling back the curtain on the Empire's identities and forgot his subordinate villain team who both have a member famous for knowing things she shouldn't and also publicly beefed with the Empire maybe a week ago, or

he actually did realize that the Undersiders would be caught in the blast radius of this plot, figured he'd roll the dice on their survival, and is now lying in a way that makes him sound shortsighted and careless

Like yeah no shit they don't have much faith in him, either he's a moron or a liar willing to look like a moron. Worst-case scenario he's both.

I hate this part. Fuck Coil, truly.

Hate.

Let me tell you how much I've come to hate Coil since I began to read Worm.

There are one million, six hundred and eighty million words in the web serial Worm. If the word "hate" replaced every character within those words it would not equal one one-billionth of the hate I feel for Coil in this micro-instant.

Hate.

Hate.

So this is actually a genius bit of writing, but it's also ironclad proof that Coil has loose gravel in place of a brain. The chances of success are lowering because "the Undersiders" are increasingly unlikely to include Skitter as a member, because she's sickened, horrified, and outraged by what her boss is doing and absolutely will not do what he asks of her at this rate. I'm willing to bet Tattletale knows what's going on, provided that she managed to tear her eyes away from the horror show in order to check on her teammates, but Coil, resident criminal mastermind, apparently doesn't realize that the odds for his pet villain team are getting worse because he's making one of the strongest members of the team hate him more with every second of this exchange.

We know what's going on in Taylor's head before she can even say anything because of this exchange. That's really well done.

I hope Coil dies screaming.

I was going to post a line from Arc 5 or 6 that I'd noticed, about the offhand news of a girl missing presumed dead, but I couldn't find it when I was going back through. I knew about it well before starting my liveread, though. Dinah Alcott. The twelve-year-old girl Coil keeps in his basement, gives drugs, and calls "pet."

Maybe I could've liked Coil more if he was just a kind of ineffectual mastermind and lousy boss, or maybe I wouldn't have felt such an active revulsion towards him, I dunno. But this puts him on a different layer of evil than just some kinda shadowy puppet master or gang boss or whatever. This isn't cops and robbers, this is the same kind of foul play that Heartbreaker operates on, and everyone hates Heartbreaker.

Also not sure exactly what emotions Tattletale is dealing with here but I don't know if people can make the blood drain from their face on demand so she's probably not fronting? She's had me nervous ever since she started more openly cooperating with Coil, but here's reassurance she's got a standard that he doesn't.

Current Thoughts

I will clap and cheer when Coil gets what's coming to him.

[rsatoru]

© art credits @qmthtdy on twt ! >^<

Fans consider the 25th of July to be a "SatoSugu day": the ship's name in Japanese (条五, pronounced "natsu go") means 725 — 07/25. The ship name GoGe literally translates to "five summers".

Anyway, it should be okay. We’re the strongest.

SATORU TO SUGURU, CHAPTER 66

Satoru – “You scared?”

Suguru – “Not really. We should be fine. We’re the strongest.”

— Chapter 72

Yaga – “Why did you let him go?”

Satoru – “Are you... really asking me that?”

Yaga – “No, you’re right... I’m sorry.”

— Chapter 78

There’s no way I would mistake his residuals.

SATORU TO YAGA, CHAPTER 0.3

It was my best friend. My one and only.

SATORU TO YUTA, CHAPTER 0.4

Satoru – “Now, now, don’t be spouting crazy talk to my students.”

Suguru – “Satoru! It’s been so long!”

— Chapter 0.3

Suguru – “Sorry, Satoru. The girls want to try the crepe shop on Takeshita Street. I’ll be on my way.”

Satoru – “Leaving? Not on my watch.”

— Chapter 0.3

Satoru Gojo is Master Geto’s one and only best friend, after all.

MIMIKO AND NANAKO, CHAPTER 112

My six eyes tell me you’re Suguru Geto. But my soul knows otherwise!

SATORU, CHAPTER 90

“I could't follow him. I couldn't stop him.”

GOJO THINKING ABOUT GETO[4]

Someone who doesn't want to be saved is like the setting sun sinking into the mountains. No matter how you hold out your hand, there's no way to reach them. There was no way to reach him.

GOJO THINKING ABOUT GETO, JUJUTSU KAISEN 0 (LIGHT NOVEL)[5]

Gojo Satoru. His appearance meant that this was the end. Or rather, to Geto — there was no other way this could end. In that way, it was easier to accept that this was his fate.

JUJUTSU KAISEN 0 (LIGHT NOVEL)[6]

The strongest sorcerer; the wickedest curse user. Now they were mortal enemies, as irreconcilable as oil and water. Yet now, as they chatted on this little road by Jujutsu Tech, it was hard not to remember. To remember the past, when they laughed together. Idly chatting in the classroom, getting lectured by Yaga, walking shoulder-to-shoulder. What they were doing, what they wanted to do, what they wanted to make of themselves — as long as the two of them were together, none of that was ever in doubt. Days like that, long ago.

JUJUTSU KAISEN 0 (LIGHT NOVEL)[7]

Gojo felt like he didn't know what face to make. His words, his every expression, even his bad habits — they made Gojo feel like each one was full of nostalgia, to the point of fond annoyance. A conversation between the two of them alone, ten years separated. Before it became a curse, Gojo opened his mouth.

JUJUTSU KAISEN 0 (LIGHT NOVEL)[8]

To live for the purpose of being yourself. And for that goal, Geto could only continue to pursue his twisted dream, drowning himself in the curse that lies in the gap between ideal and reality. This was the final confession of a man who could only choose to warp himself, who had erased himself in pursuit of his goals. The only person who could bear such a curse was Gojo Satoru. Where did it go wrong? And how could they start over again?

JUJUTSU KAISEN 0 (LIGHT NOVEL)[9]

Moments * After Toji’s death both Satoru and Suguru inherited what was left of him: Satoru took in his children, Megumi and Tsumiki, while Suguru got posession of his another “child”, worm-like cursed spirit that called Geto “mother”.

* Geto’s execution order was issued right after the village massacre; Gojo has been postponing the task for 10 years after that.

* In a private conversation with Yuta Okkotsu, Gojo admits to his student, that he has a personal theory about love being the most twisted curse.[10] The only known negative incident in Gojo's personal life was caused by Geto, who betrayed Gojo and became a criminal.

* In their final scene together, Geto tells Gojo that in this world he cannot really laugh from the bottom of his heart. Gojo's final words to Geto are unknown, but whatever he said made Suguru laugh for the last time in his life.

* In chapter 0.4, Gojo tells Yuta that Geto is the only close friend he’s ever had. It is notable, that Gojo uses the present tense in the original Japanese panel, even though Geto’s life has just ended.[11]

* Gojo refused to send Geto’s body to Shoko Ieiri for an autopsy (and subsequent cremation).[12]

* While discussing their strategy to immobilize Gojo in order to seal him, curse Jogo says, “Even a thousand measly human lives wouldn’t be enough to distract him!”[13] It turns out to be true; Gojo mercilessly kills a thousand mutated people, but Geto’s appearance stupefies him and leads to his defeat.

* During the battle with Hanami and Jogo, Satoru deactivates his Limitless Cursed Technique, and fights the curses only using his cursed energy and physical attacks. A mere hour before Gojo is successfully sealed by an imposter wearing Geto’s body, Jogo notes that nothings seems to be able to stop Gojo (“Is there anything you don’t have?!”).

* When Geto’s body reacts to Satoru’s words adressing him, Geto’s imposter notices that it is the first time when it disobeyed him.

* When Mei Mei meets Pseudo-Geto, she wonders why he is still alive and whether he and Gojo have been conspiring and working together all this time (although, she discards that thought).

* The Jujutsu Kaisen 0 light novel mentions that the events that happened to Geto and Gojo's inability to help his only friend led Satoru to choose his path as a teacher.[14]

* In the same light novel, when Geto leaves the college after notifying everyone about The Night Parade of One Hundred Demons, Gojo watches him go and sees the "shape of his soul" (夏油の魂の形 in the original text).

Behind the Scenes

Gege – “How to put it, through making it Satoru (and) Suguru—”

Interviewer – “[You wanted] to get it to feel duo like.”

Gege – “Also meaning wise... a natural born genius and a genius through effort — well, not exactly — but I kind of wanted to have that difference in nuance.”

— Gege Akutami about choosing Suguru's name.[15]

The kesa... I may be mistaken but the kesa here is most likely called "gojou-kesa". When I was researching kesa, there were several different ones and this one was apparently called gojou-kesa, so I recall figuring "oh isn't this just right".

GEGE AKUTAMI ON GETO'S WARDROBE.[16]

I was lectured by director Park and the sound director before recording [the scenes] where Geto talks to Gojo, since the relationship between those two is special.

TAKAHIRO SAKURAI, GETO'S JAPANESE VA[17]

Lines they exchange often have a different distance from the others, and there are words that can only be understood between the two of them.

TAKAHIRO SAKURAI EXPLAINING THE PARTICULARITY OF GETO AND GOJO'S RELATIONSHIP.[18]

The last [scene with] Gojo and Geto... no, it might be better to describe it as Satoru and Suguru's back and forth banter along with their expressions. That scene lingers in my ears.

TAKAHIRO SAKURAI ON SCENES FROM THE MOVIE THAT LEFT AN IMPRESSION ON HIM.[19]

Interviewer – “Do you see any difference between Gojo from the anime series and the movie?”

Nakamura – “I could really feel a big difference between Gojo from this two hour movie and the anime that had been on air for six months. In the TV anime Gojo didn't talk about himself, so you couldn't see his human nature, but in the movie, the way he interacts with Okkotsu, and emotions he has when facing Geto help to show his own human nature.”

— Yuichi Nakamura (Gojo's Japanese VA).[20]

Interviewer – “What do you hope the audience will pay extra attention to?”

Park – “I hope people will watch it with Gojo and Geto's relationship in mind.”

— Sunghoo Park, director of Jujutsu Kaisen 0.[21]

Last scene between Gojo and Geto is the best scene. Whole team worked hard to create a better atmosphere and tempo. It brings tears to my eyes when I watch it.

SUNGHOO PARK, DIRECTOR OF JUJUTSU KAISEN 0.[22]

I think the main topic of [Jujutsu Kaisen 0] is love. Okkotsu and Rika's story is a story that's based on love. Aside from that, although it's not exactly the same love, I think there's still a kind of heart-to-heart understanding between Gojo and Geto. They were once good classmates; now their relationship has turned upside down. Okkotsu and Rika, Gojo and Geto: they're all cases where love could've helped them grow, but instead it became a curse. I think this detail is one of the special points of the movie.

SUNGHOO PARK'S THOUGHTS ON THE CORE OF JUJUTSU KAISEN 0.[23]

The pairing attracts a lot of people due to the characters’ connection they formed as young adults and the sorrows that followed. Their contrasting aesthetics, personal views, and eventually their opposing positions in the jujutsu world make them a fascinating dynamic to explore. Another thing that sparks interest in the fanbase is that despite Gojo’s omnipotence and absolute invincibility, he has one weakness, which turns out to be the memory of his dead friend.

Many fans view Gojo and Geto’s falling out as a break up or divorce, there are a lot of fan works (art and fanfiction) made surrounding the theme of ex romantic partners. One of the most popular concepts is Geto and Gojo breaking up in front of KFC, which leads to humorous fan arts like this or this and even playlists (for example). A great amount of works focuses on the time period between Geto’s turn and Volume 0, when Gojo and Geto are considered to be on the opposite sides of the law (fulfilling the trope Love Across Battlelines). Given Satoru and Suguru’s story is undoubtedly tragic, many fan works on AO3 are dedicated to studying such emotional states as heartbreak, loss, grief, e.g.

Another trope explored in fanfiction and fan arts is found family, considering Gojo became Tsumiki and Megumi’s guardian, while Geto took responsibility of raising two girls — Mimiko and Nanako (like here, here, or here). Some AUs include Suguru being mentally stable and becoming a teacher at Jujutsu High along with Satoru (and getting to know Satoru’s students). This inspires many artists to come up with different, often comical, ideas of what their day-to-day life would be like. While some prefer to reminisce on the sorcerers’ youth, others like to explore what their life could be like if Geto came back and took control of his body (like depicted in this comic or in this AO3 work). Often SatoSugu feature works dedicated to other pairings as a background couple, especially in ShokoHime fanfiction and artworks.

One of the most occuring motifs that artists tend to use in their works is a dragonfly (like here or here). Both Satoru and Suguru have connection to that insect: in one of the interviews, mangaka Gege Akutami admitted that now that Geto is dead with his body still automatically reacting to Satoru, his physical state could be compared to a dead dragonfly with its head ripped off: technically it is dead, but it keeps twitching post-mortem.[27] Some fans hope Gege was joking, and still belive in the possibility of his consciousness (or soul) coming back to him. In a flashback scene from manga, young Satoru can be seen wearing a dragonfly patterned yukata.

[28] Another thing about dragonflies that unites both Gojo and Geto is its Buddhist meaning. In Buddhissm, it represents the joining of Heaven and Earth as the dragonfly is one with the air and with the water at the same time. Famosly, Gojo quoted Buddha ("Throughout heaven and earth... I alone am the honored one") when he overcame his struggle and was symbolically reborn to join the fight against Toji. Artists mainly use the dragonfly as a symbol of the tragic turn the relationship between Satoru and Suguru took, and the unavoidable nature of fate.

There is another symbol. In the second opening VIVID VICE, Gojo can be seen walking in rain with a bouquet of white and blue flowers in his hand. Judging by the size, shape, and petal edges, these most likely are white calla lilies, gysophilia, and blue roses. White gypsophila from his bouquet, or baby-breath, is used for funeral flower arrangements and farewell ceremonies[29]; white calla lilies symbolize rejuvenation of the soul, love, and grief (often chosen for weddings and funerals).[30] Blue roses do not grow in nature, but can be hybridized or dyed; among other things, they signify unattainableness, a never-to-be-fulfilled wish, and impossible love.[31] Gojo is dressed in all black and is wearing his black shades, meaning he is on his day off, and chose to dress like that for some occasion.[32]

The fandom has taken liking to this interpretation, thus, flower bouquets comprised of blue roses often feature SatoSugu art pieces. Since blue roses are hard to produce, cosplayers (and some artists, too) tend to opt for blue hydrangea, flower that was first discovered and cultivated in Japan.

In Volume 0, Geto takes Mimiko and Nanako to a famous crêpe shop on Takeshita Street.[34] In the first light novel, months after Geto’s death, Yuji and Megumi wander somewhere in the Akihabara area (9 minutes from Takeshita Street by taxi) and see Gojo; they lose sight of him, and when they find him again, he is eating crêpes bought, judging by the package, in “a popular crêpe shop”.[35] Most popular crêperies in both areas belong to the same brand called Marion Crêpes. Fans believe that Gojo and Geto visited crepe shops when they were students, thus, in fan works they are often depicted getting crepes together, sometimes accompanied by their “children”.

The ship’s popularity reached the cosplayers, too. For example, in 2021, married couple from China with almost 7,5 million followers combined on Chinese social platform Weibo cosplayed the characters during CP28, Chinese Comic Con held in Shanghai. As seen in the video the couple posted, they were extremely popular, as the crowd of fans kept following them wherever they went.

this is a special repost to my past satosugu analysis

posted last 07.25.22 by @seouci only on tumblr.

[bracketsoffear]

Columbo (Columbo) "A shrewd but inelegant blue-collar homicide detective whose trademarks include his shambling manner, rumpled beige raincoat, cigar and off-putting, relentless investigative approach. Columbo was the master of perp sweating. Though he generally settles on his horse from the outset, he never lets on, instead worming his way into their confidence via fawning adulation, begging their assistance as he "solves" the case. Usually he forces them to weave a huge web of lies until he can finally pull the thread — justified because he's always right. Without letting on that he suspects the perp, he'd have long, seemingly innocuous conversations with the murderer who would get more and more frustrated as they tried to get this annoying man to go away, and thus already be off-balance when the topic turned to holes in their cover-up. Columbo's favorite move was seeming to leave once the suspect thought they'd thrown him off the scent, then turning around and adding "Just one more thing," knocking them on their heels. He's overly nice to people in a bloodhound sort of way; he convinces people that he's just a country bumpkin more interested in whatever 'hat' the villain wears than solving the crime, only to reveal in the end a cold detachment and clinical mind that the bumpkin persona allowed free rein. He plays with the feelings of the criminals, making them like him (more often than not) or at least pity him and drop their guard, or he pushes them subtly and continuously to the point where they break. He attributes his success to merely working harder, thinking longer, and looking closer than anyone else would. However, Columbo has solved every case put before him onscreen (he sometimes claims that he only solves about a third total, but this could well be part of the humility act) and hasn't gotten his man only once — in which case the perp was dying anyway. In true classic mystery fashion, each episode wraps up with the Lieutenant confronting his prey with his train of deduction, culminating in the vital clue; the perp may not confess, but they know, and the viewer knows, they have been beaten. He also possesses an encyclopedic knowledge on some subjects, which he usually hides, and has explained to colleagues that his wife believes there is "something wrong" with him."

Cecil Palmer (Welcome to Night Vale) "I know he won last time, but I honestly think he deserves it. He is seemingly all knowing about current events in the town and sometimes reports them in a similar way to fear statements. I don't pay enough attention to all the lore to know exactly how he knows all the goings-on all the time, so it seems spooky to me. Though there is no canon description of him having a third eye he is often depicted with one, and a huge eye is a part of the logo. Being watched is also a theme throughout Nightvale, with the government agents who are always outside your house, or the faceless old woman who secretly lives in your home"

[blue-mint-winter]

Theory: Mysaria's goal and motivation (F&B)

Mysaria, known as Misery and White Worm, is one of the most mysterious characters in the Dance of the Dragons. She's Daemon's former paramour and the unofficial master of whisperers for Rhaenyra. Despite Mysaria's involvement with pivotal moments during the war, her goals and motivations are unknown. However, I think there's enough clues to find an explanation for her seemingly incomprehensible actions.

The first time she appears in the story is after Daemon's return to King's Landing in 103 AC when he held positions in the small council of king Viserys, then became Lord Commander of the City Watch in 105 AC.

Though he sampled countless whores in the city’s brothels, and was said to have an especial fondness for deflowering maidens, a certain Lysene dancing girl soon became his favorite. Mysaria was the name she went by, though her rivals and enemies called her Misery, the White Worm.

That word "though" could mean that it was surprising that Daemon had one favourite woman. Or it could mean that it was surprising that he chose a woman who wasn't a prostitute? I wonder what the beginning of their affair was. If Daemon was Mysaria's first lover, he must have been very special to her. He was the dashing Prince of the City, popular with people, dispensing justice to criminals.

Queen Aemma dies in late 105 AC and the "heir for a day" incident happens, which causes Viserys to name Rhaenyra as his heir instead of Daemon. Daemon didn't swear to Rhaenyra with the lords.

Furious at the king’s decree, the prince quit King’s Landing, resigning from the City Watch. He went first to Dragonstone, taking his paramour Mysaria with him upon the back of his dragon Caraxes, the lean red beast the smallfolk called the Blood Wyrm. There he remained for half a year, during which time he got Mysaria with child. When he learned that his concubine was pregnant, Prince Daemon presented her with a dragon’s egg, but in this he again went too far and woke his brother’s wroth. King Viserys commanded him to return the egg, send his whore away, and return to his lawful wife, or else be attainted as a traitor. 

Alright, this relationship is Serious. Daemon took Mysaria to Dragonstone on his dragon. This is a classic Targaryen romance move, as established by Jaehaerys and Alysanne when they eloped. Daemon is treating Mysaria as his wife. Taking her flying and giving her a dragon egg is declaring the child will be his heir. Daemon didn't swear to Rhaenyra, so this definitely looks like he means to challenge her right to succession. And as we know the precedent from before, Jaehaerys passed over Rhaenys and chose her uncle Baelon as his heir. Then the Great Council of 101 AC chose Baelon's son Viserys over Rhaenys and her son Laenor. It's been only 4 years since that decision was made. Daemon has a very high chance to win the succession rights over his niece. And if he gets his way - Mysaria will become his wife and queen, the mother of his heir.

Viserys and his Hand, Otto Hightower, are very aware of Daemon's plan here, which explains Viserys' aggressive reaction. Viserys all his reign kept fiercely defending Rhaenyra as his heir, so this was only the first instance it happened. The threat to attaint Daemon as traitor was strong enough to put a stop to his ambitions. If he was a traitor then he could never become the heir, definitely couldn't try calling another Great Council and wouldn't be able to gather any support from the lords.

The prince obeyed, though with ill grace, dispatching Mysaria (eggless) back to Lys, whilst he himself flew to Runestone in the Vale and the unwelcome company of his “bronze bitch.” But Mysaria lost her child during a storm on the narrow sea. When word reached Prince Daemon he spoke no syllable of grief, but his heart hardened against the king, his brother. Thereafter he spoke of King Viserys only with disdain, and began to brood day and night on the succession.

Politically, Daemon had to give up his relationship with Mysaria. The dream of romance was gone and she was sent away. All hope for her to stay relevant was lost when she had a miscarriage. If the child was born, Daemon could have brought them back from Lys at a more opportune moment.

I believe this was the moment Daemon really started playing the game and properly thinking his moves through. His strategy and the good political advice he gave to Rhaenyra during the Dance of the Dragons show that Daemon was politically astute and a good judge of character. What's more, he understood that no one owes you anything, you have to earn it. A political player always needs to have something in exchange for what he wants. I think Viserys taught him that. Daemon's plan with Mysaria was half-baked, he had no way of ensuring its success besides hoping for Viserys indulging him and he overestimated his brother's tolerance that time which resulted in his unborn child's death. He didn't make that mistake again. His later actions were all strategic (until he fell in love with Rhaenyra, but that's a topic for a whole separate analysis).

For Mysaria, this is her origin story. She was uplifted by a prince, promised status as his future queen, given a dragon egg, but she lost it all with their child's death. Her chance was gone.

The next time she appears in text is during the Dance. She's Daemon's go-between who hired Blood and Cheese. Blood described her when he was tortured by Larys Strong.

He also gave up a description of the whore he claimed had hired them: an older woman, foreign by her talk, cloaked and hooded, very pale. The other harlots called her Misery.

That means that Mysaria eventually came back from Lys and stayed in King's Landing, where she kept working for Daemon in the shadows. She's described as his "special friend he trusted utterly", though I'm not sure if this is maester Gyldayn's assumption (the in-universe book author's) or a genuine fact reporting.

Mysaria was Daemon's go-between so that required a great deal of trust. She passed to him information from his ally on the green council (Larys Strong) about Aemond's war plans in Riverlands. Thanks to that Daemon was prepared and won the campaign. However, it's noticeable that all the Green plots aimed at Rhaenyra and Jace surprised them - that includes ser Arryk's assassination attempt, the trap at Rook's Rest and the Battle of the Gullet. All of those were very damaging to the Blacks, Daemon's faction for which he was the main strategist. This means that Mysaria wasn't passing any warnings to Dragonstone despite ostensibly working for Daemon.

Despite the Velaryon sea blockade, communication between King's Landing and Dragonstone was possible as ser Arryk was smuggled on the island and infiltrated the castle. Therefore there are two possibilities: Larys, the master of whisperers, was withholding the information about the Green plots against Rhaenyra - unlikely, because Daemon had hostages, including Larys' sister or wet nurse Alys Rivers - or Mysaria didn't pass the information on purpose, whether the source was Larys or someone else.

Mysaria warned Daemon about Aemond, but didn't warn Rhaenyra of any plots against her, even though it was also damaging to Daemon's cause. It looks like Mysaria was playing her own game here. She wanted Daemon alive, but didn't care about Rhaenyra or her sons. If they all died, Daemon would still lead the Blacks against the Greens and press his claim (and his sons' claim if they survived). And he will be in need of a new queen. Mysaria could finally get the position that she was once promised by Daemon when he took her to Dragonstone.

Was she still in love with him? It's possible. She stayed loyal to him, working in the shadows of the city. And even if she didn't love him, he was still her way to a position of power and influence.

Even the White Worm came to court; the Lysene harlot Mysaria emerged from the shadows to take up residence in the Red Keep. Though never officially seated with the queen’s small council, the woman now known as Lady Misery became the mistress of whisperers in all but name, with eyes and ears in every brothel, alehouse, and pot shop in King’s Landing, and in the halls and bedchambers of the mighty as well. Though the years had thickened the body that had been so lithe and lissome, Prince Daemon remained in her thrall, and called upon her every evening…with Queen Rhaenyra’s apparent blessing. “Let Daemon slake his hungers where he will,” she is reported to have said, “and we shall do the same.” 

The big question is: were Mysaria and Daemon still a thing? Did they get back together as Septon Eustace suggested?

Rhaenyra's reaction to this assumed affair is very strange. She completely doesn't care. It's like she doesn't see Mysaria as a threat, despite the history Mysaria shares with Daemon. I think Rhaenyra doesn't have a reason to feel jealous because there's nothing going on between them. The previous sentence literally says Mysaria was the mistress of whisperers. Why would she meet Daemon in secret? Obviously, because she was giving him information and plotting with him.

Compare that uncaring reaction to Rhaenyra coldly ordering Nettles to be executed when she hears that Daemon is sleeping with her.

With her skin as pale as milk, Lady Misery appeared before the council in a hooded robe of black velvet lined with blood-red silk, and stood with head bowed humbly as Her Grace asked whether she thought Ser Addam and Nettles might be planning to betray them. Then the White Worm raised her eyes and said in a soft voice, “The girl has already betrayed you, my queen. Even now she shares your husband’s bed, and soon enough she will have his bastard in her belly.” Then Queen Rhaenyra grew most wroth, Septon Eustace writes. In a voice as cold as ice, she commanded Ser Luthor Largent [...]

I don't think Rhaenyra would tolerate Mysaria if she had a reason to suspect that Mysaria was really having an affair with Daemon. Rhaenyra doesn't even believe that Daemon would betray her of his own will, rather she blames Nettles for bewitching him.

Daemon's fidelity is another controversial topic. People seem to believe that because he was cheating on his first wife who he loathed and didn't choose, then he would treat Laena and Rhaenyra the same, even though he married each of them of his own will and treated them well. In the time period from 116 AC to 120 AC, when he lived on Driftmark with Velaryons, Daemon didn't cheat on Laena with Rhaenyra despite their frequent visits to Dragonstone. Joffrey, who was born in 117 AC, wasn't Daemon's son and Rhaenyra was still carrying on her affair with Harwin Strong. Rhaenyra and Laena were close friends and they even betrothed their children.

The truth is that after his second marriage there was no mention of Daemon ever going back to his old ways of visiting brothels. It seems likely that Laena and then Rhaenyra gave him the love he needed, so there was no need to go to a brothel for a cheap substitution.

It looks like Daemon's affair with Mysaria truly ended when she lost their child and they were meeting only for business after she became Rhaenyra's unofficial master of whisperers.

Mysaria, Helaena and Nettles

Septon Eustace suggests that Lady Mysaria, the White Worm, chose this night to tell Helaena of the death of her son Maelor, and the grisly manner of his passing, though what motive she would have had for doing so, beyond simple malice, is hard to fathom.

One of the most perplexing actions is Mysaria's involvement in Helaena's death. Why would she drive Helaena to suicide? My theory is that due to the loss of dragons after the betrayal at Tumbleton and prosecuting dragonseeds, the best motive for murdering Helaena is to free Dreamfyre so a new rider could claim her. Dreamfyre is a huge and old dragon that would bolster the defenses of King's Landing and could fight Vermithor or Silverwing. The new rider would also gain significant power.

This connects to Nettles. Nettles is someone without any proven or visible Valyrian/Targaryen ancestry. Yet, she managed to claim a dragon. Also, her method is widely known - she fed sheep to Sheepstealer, his favourite type of food. Some people must have thought that it's easy, that anyone could do it. If a lowborn girl that isn't even Valyrian could claim a dragon like this, then anyone can. And Mysaria could be amongst those people. Rhaenyra didn't trust dragonseeds, but she trusted Mysaria's word. The master of whisperers had a high chance of convincing the queen to let her claim a free dragon, she only needed one without a rider. Causing Helaena's death is the best way to accomplish this.

I think Helaena wasn't even the first choice for such a plot. Rather it was Nettles. Anyone who would want to copy her method would try to do it with her dragon. Sheepstealer proved that he can be claimed by a non-Valyrian. Why risk trying it with another dragon? And it's very possible that Mysaria wasn't the only one with such ideas. Murder attempts on Nettles could be one of the reasons why Daemon took her with him to Maidenpool to hunt for Aemond. The maester there noted their odd, but very close bond. Especially the bathing together seemed strange, but on the other hand they were in Maidenpool - the place famous for a murder attempt made on queen Alysanne when she was in the bath! Daemon keeping Nettles close to himself and protected because there was a real chance people would try to kill her so they could claim her dragon, could explain their bizarre closeness despite his fidelity to his wife and family, despite her not being the type of woman he was attracted to. It would be a good reason why maester observed that Daemon was teaching her manners and "doting on her like a daughter", but sleeping in adjoining bedrooms and bathing together. He could not leave her alone in fear of her assassination. At that point, before the betrayal at Tumbleton, Daemon still needed Nettles' dragon support against Aemond.

The prince greeted me politely, but as he read I saw the joy go from his eyes, and a sadness descended upon him, like a weight too heavy to be borne. When the girl asked what was in the letter, he said, ‘A queen’s words, a whore’s work.’

Daemon's reaction to Rhaenyra's orders to execute Nettles says a lot. He immediately knows that Mysaria is behind this. Why would he know that? Because she must have already tried something back in King's Landing. This wasn't the first time Mysaria wanted to harm Nettles.

With Nettles safe and away from her grasp, it's only logical that Mysaria would change her target to Helaena who was more vulnerable as a prisoner in the Red Keep.

Nettles and Helaena are both dragonriders, which makes them potential rivals for the position of a queen. If Rhaenyra somehow died, it seems obvious that Daemon would choose again to remarry with another dragonrider. Mysaria getting rid of the competition early and claiming a dragon for herself would make her first place on the list of queen candidates for Daemon.

It's worth noting that Mysaria really had it out for Helaena. Not only she hired the men who killed Helaena's son, she also proposed the idea of selling Helaena and Alicent in a brothel until they got pregnant with bastards, then she was involved with Helaena's gruesome death.

Helaena was young, fertile, Valyrian, a dragonrider, a queen beloved by people. She had all the qualities that made her a dangerous rival in the event of Rhaenyra's death. She had the best chance to be picked for Daemon's next wife after he won the war. The brothel queens plan could destroy Helaena's good reputation and bring her down to Mysaria's level, but that wasn't a guarantee that Helaena wouldn't become a threat. That's why Mysaria couldn't let her live.

The meaning of the White Worm

Even Mysaria's pseudonym of the White Worm has certain connotations in the world of ASOIAF. Dragons are said to be created with bloodmagic by using wyverns and firewyrms. They have some worm-like qualities from firewyrms. If dragons can't fly, they have to crawl on the ground like worms. Good examples of the connection between worms and dragons are: Caraxes, called the Blood Wyrm because of his lean, wyrm-like build, Sunfyre after losing his ability to fly and the hatching of a white, worm-like creature from a dragon egg.

Caraxes, the lean red beast the smallfolk called the Blood Wyrm

The king’s dragon, Sunfyre, too huge and heavy to be moved, and unable to fly with his injured wing, remained in the fields beyond Rook’s Rest, crawling through the ashes like some great golden wyrm. 

Caraxes lived long enough to crawl back onto the land. Gutted, with one wing torn from his body and the waters of the lake smoking about him, the Blood Wyrm found the strength to drag himself onto the lakeshore, expiring beneath the walls of Harrenhal.

The first omen of the dark times to come was seen on Driftmark, when the dragon’s egg presented to Laena Velaryon upon her birth quickened and hatched. Her parents’ pride and pleasure quickly turned to ash, however; the dragon that wriggled from the egg was a monstrosity, a wingless wyrm, maggot-white and blind. 

Mysaria being called the White Worm could indicate her ambitions to ascend from a worm/wyrm to a dragon. Daemon gave her a dragon egg once after all, but took it away and then she lost their future dragonrider child as well. It would make sense if her goal was to achieve what was promised to her in her youth and to become a dragon queen.

.

Thanks for reading! My ask box is open for questions and discussion.

[superluigiglitchy]

The Super Glitchy Squad

Mario Mario - The dumbass of the group but also somehow the strongest, Mario is able to super human jumps and stunts and also has the power of pyrokinesis, many kitchens were burnt down since he obtained his powers, he also has extraodinary durability and cares deeply for his friends

Luigi Mario - The soft hearted florist with surprising strength, he shares the same powers with his older brother only he has electrokinesis and also has the ability to leave his body in a state similar to an out of body exprience allowing him to enter any place he wishes however it leaves his body vulnerable to attacks

SMG4 - The reluctant leader of the ragtag group of misfits, he has the ability to control technology he also unlocks new abilities when in the presence of SMG3 thanks to the meme guardian powers they obtained from the guardian pod giving him access to meme energy, he also has the same superhuman durability as Luigi and Mario

SMG3 - An enemy turned friend of the SGS, SMG3 has the ability to create explosions and bombs out of anything, he also has the powers of sorcery able to create illusions and more magic oriented things, he too unlocks his meme guardian powers when holding hands with SMG4 thanks to the guardian pod giving him access to meme energy, he also has the same superhuman durability though not to the same extent as SMG4, Mario and Luigi

Meggy Spletzer Mario - Mario and Luigi's adopted little sister and shockingly the only one in the group to not have been given powers by the guardian pod, Meggy makes up for this lack of super poweredness through her ingenuity and expert marksmanship, able to snipe enemies from yards away and kick absolute ass thanks to her martial arts classes, Meggy keeps up with the group despite her essentially being a "normal human being", for some reason however Meggy keeps having dreams where someone is yelling out her name... eh, it's probably nothing important

Bob Bobowski - The hooded potential criminal and rapper wannabe of the group, he always has the next money making scheme under his sleeves and has the ability to manifest razor sharp blades from his hands and has shockingly skillful control over this newly acquired power, having seemingly mastered by the morning after the Guardian Pod granting it to him, he also however seems to be MUCH older than he looks, making references that he was around when the bubonic plague was relevant and the like though no one is sure if he's joking or not

Fishy Boopkins - Fishy like his moniker details, has gain the abilities of a fishman, being able to breathe underwater, communicate with sea life, letting out sonic screams etc, despite being the smallest and weakest of the group, he also happens to be the few of them who wants to help others rather than use the powers they were granted for personal gain and ended up being the one along side Tari to convince the others to use their powers to help others

Saiko Bichitaru - The pod ended up giving Saiko super strength when it let out its blue shockwave (which is a decidedly bad thing to give to someone as anger prone and destructive as Daiko but eh), surprisingly Saiko didnt plan on actually being there but as much as she didnt want to admit it she worried for the two nerds Tari and Luigi who wormed their way into her cold stone heartt were going with their insane friends to investigate the crash site. also it seems like the the usb may have triggered something else within Saiko wait that she recently sprouted small horns on her head

Tari - The introverted sweet heart gamer with a talking arm, Tari has the ability to enter video games and interact with the digital world, which she can also brig others into along with the ability to unleash digital manifestations of code unintentionally (this power she has no control over yet) with how she accidentally brought coconut boy into the real world whom currently livez with her

((if your wondering why melony and axol arent on this list..... thats a secret tool that will help us later :3))

[twistedtummies2]

Top 5 Portrayals of Charles Augustus Milverton

Our final list devoted to the supporting cast of Sherlock Holmes and his world was the single most challenging to create. I’ve talked about Professor Moriarty, Irene Adler, and Sebastian Moran in previous lists, and all of them are villains I think most would place in the “love to hate” category. These are characters who, either because they are simply entertaining, or because they have some deeper and more complex elements of interest, we actually enjoy seeing in action (to some degree or another), and perhaps even find ourselves rooting for to some degree. Of course, an antagonist of any sort doesn’t HAVE to be likable in order to be effective: they simply need to be good at what they do, which is providing opposition to the protagonist. Some bad guys are meant to be characters the readers - as well as the heroes of the story - find utterly and totally repugnant. A friend of mine refers to them as “punchable” villains, and I think that’s accurate: they’re characters you just hate with a passion and want nothing more than to see them decked out with a punch to the face, if not something better. One of the earliest examples of such “punchable” characters is our topic for today: the Master Blackmailer, Charles Augustus Milverton. Despite only appearing in one story (which, to be fair, is the treatment nearly all of Holmes’ enemies got), Milverton has made his mark as one of the detectives most infamous and despicable villains, mostly because of the fact that not only are the readers meant to hate him…but even Holmes HIMSELF expresses absolute DISGUST with Milverton. The character is written to be the most deplorable slimeball on the face of the Earth, his attitude and actions so vile that even the World’s Greatest Detective - who has faced so many criminals and crooks - despises him. Keep in mind, Holmes holds nothing but respect for Professor Moriarty, the Napoleon of Crime and his arch-enemy: for him to so utterly detest Milverton is a sign of just how awful a person this character is.

Milverton is an opportunistic cad of the highest order. He is described as a sort of human snake, with Doyle using reptilian analogies for the character’s motions, appearance, and so forth. In the books, Milverton does what he does primarily for greed: he blackmails people and profits off of their misfortunes, and this is really how he makes much of his living. Nearly everything he owns is due to him weaseling money, power, and so forth out of other human beings. To make matters worse, if someone DOESN’T pay up, he still profits in his own mind: once the dirty laundry he hangs over their heads gets aired out to the populace, everyone else in his grasp, present or future, will KNOW he’s being serious. It’s indicated that Milverton takes sadistic joy out of what he does, as he craves the feeling of being in power and control over others: in some versions, even in death, he shows neither remorse nor even fear, as he still believes, after he’s gone, he’ll have the upper hand. In others - including the original story that bears his name - once he realizes he’s cornered, he cowers and cringes and crawls like the craven worm he is. Either way, any time Milverton is beaten, it is satisfying beyond belief: that is ultimately the way he is meant to be. A smear on the fabric of humanity that everyone - the readers, the protagonists, and I suspect even the author - feels VERY happy to see washed away. To say there are “favorite” versions of Milverton of mine is overselling things. That indicates I actually LIKE the guy in ANY rendition, and I really don’t: no one is supposed to. But I felt, given his reputation and prominence, he deserved some limelight as much as the other characters I’ve covered. So, I looked at a few basics: which versions were the most satisfying to see beaten, which versions were played by actors I have a particular fondness for (despite such a horrible fiend being their role), and which ones did something interesting with the character that I can’t help but praise? Taking all those things together, allow to present - with an almighty asterisk beside the title - My Top 5 “Favorite” Portrayals of Charles Augustus Milverton.

5. Barry Jones, from the 60s BBC Series.

Jones is what might be termed - and you will pardon my blunt and crude analogy - your “basic b!tch” Milverton. He sticks to the source and sticks to it truly, without much reimagining involved. That’s not a bad thing, but I think other Milvertons higher up do a bit more interesting twists with the character. Jones is perfect casting, being a master at playing snobbish and reprehensibly dandified fellows; in another Sherlock Holmes outing, the film “A Study in Terror,” he played such a character in the form of the Duke of Shires: a slightly comical fop who starts off as an unlikeable so-and-so, but eventually shows he has a good heart beneath his pompous exterior. Milverton is essentially if you took that character and removed all likability from his soul.

4. Boris Ryzhukin, from The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes & Dr. Watson.

While I think Jones’ portrayal of the Master Blackmailer is closer to the novel, Ryzhukin’s performance is equally excellent, and the adaptation makes an interesting change to the character. In this version, Milverton’s story is the prelude to the events of “The Final Problem,” as he is revealed to be one of Professor Moriarty’s top agents. His case is therefore the catalyst that sets off the chain of events ending in the battle at Reichenbach Falls.

3. Robert Hardy, from the Granada Series.

While I have some issues with the creative liberties taken in this adaptation of the story - which is very rare for the Brett series, I must confess - I think Robert Hardy’s take on Milverton is absolutely perfect, being both accurate to the source and going just a little bit beyond that to make him as creepy and even intimidating as he is slimy and sickening. Not much else to say, just a masterclass of fine acting in the guise of a thoroughly awful dastard.

2. Lars Mikkelsen, from Sherlock.

In this version, the character is renamed “Charles Augustus Magnussen,” to better match Mikkelsen’s Danish roots. The change of name, however, does nothing to disguise this versions nastiness. While much of season three of “Sherlock” was “meh,” I think Magnussen’s episode is one of the best of the whole series, and while he is a totally dispensable customer, the incarnation was very interesting. In this version, Magnussen has the exact same “powers” as Sherlock Holmes, being just as much of a genius and a brilliant expert at deduction as the detective, if not superior to him. He uses these abilities to figure out people’s weaknesses more easily and exploit them.

1. The Version from Moriarty the Patriot.

This is the closest any version of Milverton has come to being a “love to hate” character for me. (The keyword being ��closest.”) While we’ve seen a version of Milverton who worked for Moriarty, this version turns out to be an enemy to BOTH Sherlock Holmes AND his arch-nemesis, and ends up being the closest thing to a “big bad” the series has given us so far. He is described as the “pure evil” counterpoint to Moriarty’s “necessary evil” in this reimagining, and is fueled more by his sadistic desires than greed. He's voiced by Kenji Nojima in Japanese, and Kayleigh McKee in the English Dub.

[xxkitty13]

Circus Freaks

LA Buggy x Fem Reader

Young reader (20’s), slight nsfw, dark themes (small mention of suicide)

Previous Chapters- Part 1, Part 3

Next Chapter- Part 5

Previously: In attempt to retrieve the lost necklace, y/n accidentally eavesdrops on the Buggy Pirates’ master plan. Not wanting to kill the woman, Buggy decides to use her in his scheme. He admits his attraction to y/n, but does not trust her. The misunderstanding causes a tension between the two.

Part 4: The Missing Details

A couple of days passed by after the "deal" with Buggy. Her family noticed a change in her behavior. Y/n was always reserved, but not like this. It's like she's hiding something. The last few days would consist of a new routine: waking up in the morning to eat a quick breakfast, leave the house to return at dusk, and spending the rest of the day enclosed in her room.

Every time her parents or sister asked where'd she go, she simply said something along the lines of "research."

They knew she's always been a strange girl. Since she was introduced into their family, death called out to her. The Ti's figured it had to do with her biological parents' passing. The young girl would often space out and asked if they could see the person in front of her. Of course, there was nothing there. Mr. and Mrs. Ti excused it as her imagination, but as she aged, it did not stop.

They tried to explain to her that it was all a part of her imagination. There's no person, ghost, or spirit— it does not exist. It was frustrating to the young girl. Her nightmares would consist of vivid images of her mother and father, with tormenting screams of the dead. People in her cohort would accuse her as an attention seeker, but that was not true. She hated that she could see and hear these dead souls, she wished it was all made up.

Shortly, her bullying at school made her distance herself from people, including her adoptive family. Lyla was the only one who tried to understand her, even so she failed. Y/n began to visit her parent's grave. That's when she found out that the spirits could be gentle— only wishing comfort from the living. It dawned her that this was not a curse, but a gift.

She kept this to herself, and this defiance of her gift allowed her to return as a “normal” member of her community. Still, she never forgets those nasty comments and the townspeople continued to avoid her. Depression hit her, the solitude caused her to reject color, seeking safety in the dark. She longed for a colorful world, but those vibrant colors died out a long time ago.

Despite her outcast status, she wished no one harm. The Ti’s treated her well and the pirates’ presence posed harm to the people who raised her. It’s imperative that she follows the captain’s orders. It’s a good thing she’s able to access records; after all, she’s a book worm.

The time she spent alone focused on literature. Books allowed her to escape reality. She would spend hours reading under an oak tree or in the town hall’s library. Each book opens a world of imagination, knowledge, and expression. She would read the vast information about the islands of the four seas. Each more unique than the last. Y/n wondered about the possibilities, could she explore the world? That thought was pushed away, her future is sealed on this island.

Page after page, she spent the last few days reading any piece of information about the island’s political figures. The time is ticking and she’s not able to find anything. The town’s records are kept in a back room of the library, the librarian has granted her a key to it. Criminal records, birth and death certificates are some archives stored in the locked room.

Y/n searched, but most of the documents contained information of past generations. In defeat, she returned back home empty handed. It’s later than usual, her parents have gone to bed already. She made her way through the dark kitchen and went straight to the bedroom. The bed awaits her as she plops face down on it.

“You’re back. Took you long enough.”

She quickly rolls over at the sound of the voice. A figure comes out of the bathroom, there’s no light to see it. The ominous person flicks the bathroom light on. It’s Buggy, he leaned on the doorframe, arms crossed. His gaze let a look of boredom.

She sat up at his unexpected arrival, gripping at her bedsheets. “How did you get in my house?”

A sly smirk accompanied with a light chuckle were let out. He walks away from the bathroom entrance and starts to look around her room. Frames of floral skeletons along with other gothic decor fill the room. The elegant bed frame adds a vampy look.

“Huh, are you a vampire?” he scoffs.

“No and you ignored my question.” It’s rare that someone mentions vampire, people are quick to call her a witch. Buggy’s eyes continue to observe the room, it’s very different to what he’s used to. “Hello, are you going to answer me?”

The pirate turns to look at the woman. His eyes landed at the only vibrant item in the room. Without giving it a second thought, he reached behind her and grabs the object.

“Hey! Give that back!”

He looked at the object in his hand, it’s almost a spitting image of himself.

“A clown. . .” he looks back at y/n, who’s clearly agitated.

She jumps at him, trying to snatch the rag doll away from. He raised his left arm up, keeping the doll at a distance she couldn’t reach. His eyebrows furrow at the sudden act of aggression.

“What are you doing with an old crappy doll?” he laughs at her.

“It’s not crappy. Now give it back!”

She managed to get a hold of the doll’s leg, it almost slipped from Buggy’s hand. The two commence in a game of tug of war, each pulling a limb. He grins, enjoying the little game and y/n pulls in desperation. A ripping sound came from the doll before y/n fell back with it. A good chunk of its side tore off, leaving its stuffing all over the floor.

Tears flow down her cheek as she held the rag doll in disbelief. It’s bemusing to the pirate, to see a young woman cry over a dusty doll. He holds the other portion of the torn clown and throws it at her.

“Why are you crying? It’s just a doll.”

It’s now two things he’s taken from her. Both sentimental gifts from her dead parents. She looks at the doll and back at Buggy. The real version is vastly different.

“I thought clowns were supposed to be fun. . .” she sobs, hugging what remained.

He walks up to her and crouched to her eye level. “I hate to break your fantasy, but I’m a pirate before I am a clown,”— he grips her jaw— “I am not your pathetic little doll.”

“I hate you,” she spat out with despise.

His grip becomes tighter on her face, tears drip down from his glove. He’s used to hearing those words, but it’s different this time. The woman who looked at him with adoration is gone. He hastily let's go of her jaw and stands over her.

“I don’t care if you hate me. You’re just a pawn in my plan,” he masked his true emotions. It bothered him that his visit did not work to his favor, but his treasure comes first.

“I gave you time to seek intel and I do hope you found something.”

She wipes the tears off her cheeks and began to pick up the stuffing off the floor. Buggy clenched his jaw in annoyance. He stomps on the remains to gain her attention. Out of spite she ignores him, not daring to look up. He absolutely hated being ignored, his hand grabs a fistful of her hair. She yelps at the pain.

He taunts her, pulling her hair with slight force, "Oh y/n, don't play me as a fool."

Buggy's gaze darkens, staring into her redden eyes. "Remember our terms, if you don't give me what I want, I will hurt those you love the most."

"You're a despicable mother fucker," she spits at him.

Fueled by rage, he takes out a blade, but the sound of footsteps approached the room. He grabs y/n and shoves her in the bathroom, closing the door.

"Y/n dear, are you alright?" Mrs. Ti asked, opening the bedroom door.

Buggy shows off his blade and tilts his head in amusement, waiting for her response. She sniffs and speaks, "I-I'm okay. . . I just knocked something over in the bathroom."

"Be careful dear, we don't want you drowning in the bathtub," she jokingly laughs.

"Ha ha. . . yeah I don't want to drown either. . ." she cringes at her statement.

"Well goodnight, if you want to talk about something, you know I'm here for you."

"Okay, goodnight."

The door closes and the woman leaves. Silence fills the room, Buggy leans on the sink. "Damn, even the bathroom is dark. Where are the colors in this shitty place?"

Y/n rolls her eyes. “I like darker colors. It’s comfy if it makes sense. . .”

“That’s depressing, but let’s get back to business,”— he holds her wrist with great force— “that was bold of you, I’ll let that sign of disrespect slide.”

“Ow, let go!” she tries to budge out his grip.

“Do you or do you not have information?”

She stayed silent.

“Answer me!”

“No!”

He lets go of her wrist. “You must know something. That Yasi kid clearly has eyes for you and to have someone that important after you is a detail I can’t ignore.”

“Look you stupid clown, I know nothing. Yasi just happens to like me.”

“Tsk, my men tell me you spent your days at the town hall. Clearly there’s a reason why you’re able to be there all day.”

Y/n pulls a key out her pocket and throws at him.

“This is the key to the town’s personal archives. I couldn’t find anything on these people. I don’t know what you’re looking for, so do it yourself.”

Buggy picked up the key and glanced at her. “Yeah right, you’re coming with me.”

“Huh? Why?”

He grabs her by the waist and forces her out the bathroom. She stumbles and falls to the floor. “Can you be gentler?” she groans.

“If you would oblige, maybe I would be.”

Y/n stays on the cold floor, throwing a tantrum like a toddler. She would not make it easy for him. He throws her body over his shoulder; her weight is nothing to him.

“I guess we’ll have to do this the hard way.”

She hits and punches his back. “Let me down!”

“I would stop if I were you, or do you want your mother to meet my blade?” he teased.

He felt her tense at the threat and chuckles at her defeat. He made his way to the window, the same entrance he used to get in. It surprised him that it wasn’t locked either way he would’ve smashed the glass.

The pirate is careful not to harm the woman any further. The drop out the window imposes no risk; he can easily step out. The cold breeze hits them, making y/n shiver.

“I would give you my coat, but you’ve been a bad girl tonight."

A small pat to y/n's thigh triggers another outburst.

"You can't treat me like this, I'm not a little girl!"

Buggy rolls his eyes. "You act like one, so you'll be treated as one." He proceeds his exit, pinching her thigh at every resistance.

It will be a long night for the two.

.°˖✧.°˖✧

The walk to the town hall is longer than anticipated, the pirate stayed close to the shadows. The cold wind made it unbearable, and he had no choice, but to give in. Buggy had switched y/n’s position. He held her with both arms as she wrapped herself around his neck. Y/n was hesitant at first, she wanted no contact with the man, but his warmth was tempting. In the end, she allowed herself to be swaddled in his coat.

Once they reached town hall, y/n guides him to the back entrance and enter their location. The library is dark, it’s an old building and the electricity is faulty. Lanterns illuminate the vicinity, giving an eerie atmosphere. Shadows of red light cover the never-ending bookshelves. The flames flicker with might, adding movement to the area.

“Why am I not surprised. This totally fits your theme.”

She ignores the comment and takes in the slight heat from the nearby lanterns. The sensation is blissful, her body pressed against Buggy’s. It made her drowsy, taking in the coziness of his embrace. The moment ended shortly, she snaps out of her trance, remembering what he did earlier.

“Let me down.”

He hesitates, he too enjoyed the sweet hold. Disregarding the tension, she nudges the pirate to the back of the library. The place smelled of dust, a small whiff would be enough to make one sneeze. The aroma of aged paper disguised it slightly. Buggy's eyes trail to the ceiling, stacks of books and the tall shelves were overwhelming.

He stops his tracks. "I'm starting to think that this is a trap." Y/n turns to look at him and scoffs at the accusation. "What makes you think that?"

Buggy glares at her, crossing his arms. "Are you telling me that you couldn't find a single piece of information on these bastards? Come on, this place is jacked with books."

"Wow, you really are a stupid clown."

A pair of hands gripped the collar of y/n's shirt, yanking her towards the pirate. His nose barely touched hers, she felt his hot breath blow down her neck. The anger is visible in his beaming eyes. "I'm done with the name-calling."

"You should know that libraries don't publicly display personal records of civilians," she remarked as she pushed his hands off her stretched shirt.

He stayed silent.

"The room is right in front us. . . you'll see that I'm not lying to you."

Obliging, he follows behind the woman. She pulls out the copper key from her pocket and unlocks the black door. The tiny room is the only area to have functional lights, she walks inside and turns on the switch. She points at one of the bookshelves. "That one carries recent records. Suit yourself to them, I had no luck finding anything."

Each collection he read contained nothing. Y/n watched him desperately flip through each book, making Buggy rage inside. He hated being wrong and having the woman next to him smile at this, made it embarrassing.

He slams his fists at the nearby desk, making y/n flinch. Buggy throws the books the ground. This was supposed to be the break in the mystery. His crew is stuck, the location of the treasure is nowhere to be found. All of his time on the worthless island would be for nothing.

“I didn’t want to mention this to you, but you have to know something.”

Perplexed by this, she furrowed her eyebrows. The sudden desperation in his voice intrigued her.

“I assume you must know about this island’s treasure.”

She nodded. “Of course, everyone does. The founder, Kisha Febe, hid a great item long ago. No one has a clue to where it might be, to us it’s a myth.”

“It’s not a myth,”— he pulled a scroll out his coat— “this map came from a reliable source of mine. I know for a fact it’s real.”

“If you have the map, why do you need me or anything on the Abask’s?”

He hands the worn-down map to her. “There’s no ‘X’ or marking on it.”

The map outlines the small island. It seems to contain the old geography based on the landmarks. Smudges and scribbles obscure potential hints. Words cover the margins of the paper; the incoherent phrases made it confusing. Her eyes skimmed to the corner of the map, in small faint letters, “Abask,” is written.

“Abask? How can that be?”

Her thoughts were paused as the lights flicker. The light bulb goes out, leaving them in complete darkness. Y/n goes to open the door to get a lantern, but her foot trips on a loosen board. Buggy catches her from her fall. She gets up and hurries to retrieve the light source.

The light illuminates the room once more and in the middle of the room, a hidden space is revealed.

“There’s something inside.”

She gets on her knees and takes the board off the floor. Inside the space laid a stack of documents and reports. She pulls them out and hands a stack to Buggy. A file catches her eye— a death report. Y/n examines it and to her disbelief, a familiar name is written on it.

It’s her father’s, Zimik.

Her hands tremble, clenching the sides of the paper. The shaking made it impossible to read, she recomposed herself and noticed something odd. His last name is scratched off. Her parents never married, and she kept her mother's name. She hoped to finally uncover his name as no seemed to mention it to her. Now it makes her question it.

Y/n continues to skim the report, more and more questions filled her mind. White outs and corrections cover the whole paper. Most importantly, his cause of death is the most peculiar. The line is covered in a cheap white paint and over it spells the word, suicide.

This information is not new to her, but something made her feel uneasy. Down at the authorization signature, signed Dr. Hans, the Abask’s personal physician.

Buggy could sense a change in her demeanor. Her skin turned pale as her breathing became unstable.

“Is something wrong?”

Y/n handed the paper to Buggy, who looked at it in confusion.

“It’s my father’s death report. . .”

His eyes widen at the revelation. “Why was it hidden? You can’t tell me that’s not suspicious.”

“The doctor. . . he works for the Abask family.”

The two did not utter another word. It's clear to them that they share a common interest. An idea popped in Buggy's head, y/n has knowledge about the island's lore, her research skills will come in handy.

"I might've been wrong about you." He sets the sheet on the desk and bends down to meet her gaze. Y/n, still in a state of dismay, avoids contact with the pirate. "Come on, let's work together." His gloved hand reaches out, she looks at it and back at him. Buggy has done an awful deed to her, his switch up is only for convenience.

"Whether you like it or not, the Abask is the root of our problems. I need you as much as you need me."

The man is convincing, she takes a deep breath weighing the options. Yasi's father is a powerful person, he's always scared her. After her parent's passing, Mr. Abask's eyes would pinpoint in her direction. Could it tie to this hidden report? Either way, it is near impossible to infiltrate in their manor. Man-muscle is necessary, and Buggy the solution.

Their hands meet, signaling a mutual agreement between them. There's a change in his face, it is softer.

"We're heading to my tent, there's more to discuss on the matter."

"What, now? It's late and I have to head back home."

He scoffs, "How old are you again? Don't tell me you still have a curfew."

"I don't want my parents to worry about me."

This detail confused him. Parents, with an 'S.'

"Is your father not dead?"

"Oh, I'm adopted. . . my biological parents are both dead."

The atmosphere turns awkward. "Well, the more you know," he breaks the silence.

"Please, what do I say to them?" she says, putting the board back in place.

"Just tell them geezers to mind their own damn business."

"Like you're not one," she mutters, taking the stack of documents with her.

Offended, he gasps, "I heard that puny prick!"

A small laughter comes out y/n's mouth, the first positive emotion towards the pirate. The sweet melody rings through his ears. Nothing brings him more delight than the sound of laughter. Being a clown has its perks and he plays the role well. His hand grips his scarf, thinking about the necklace. He's a fool indeed, to take a piece that belonged to her father. Buggy is about to mention it but decides not to. It's the only thing keeping her under his command.

There's an ill connection between them and he's willing to start from ground zero. He clutches the scarf one last time and continues to take lead out the run-down library. They step out to the chilly weather, the air freezing their exposed skin. Y/n feels his hand on her waist, this time she does not resist his touch. Buggy reels her in and uses his coat to shield the cool winds blowing their way.

.°˖✧.°˖✧

The large tent beholds their view. A sense of worry crosses y/n's mind, last visit to the circus grounds did not end well. She's afraid of Buggy. His character changes drastically, he’s a wild card to say the least. It's too late to leave and most importantly, she wants to investigate the odd report.

They enter inside, the warm moist air hits them. It's a pleasant relief to their skin, despite the humidity. The ring is dark and empty. She pleads to not encounter anyone from his crew, they attacked her the other night. That is quickly jinxed as the lights above were turned on.

"Captain, you're back!"

A furry muscular man appeared out from the backstage. His eyes smile, he's clearly appeased at the arrival of Buggy. That moment ends shortly after seeing y/n. His head turns sideways in confusion. Following behind him is another crewmember— the acrobat. His eyes darken at the sight. Buggy felt y/n tense as her hand gripped his side.

"What's she doing here?" the acrobat states, crossing his arms.

Buggy wraps his arm around her shoulder, slightly leaning against her body. "She will be our guest tonight, so treat her kindly," he voices with a stern tone.

"He's my chief of staff, Cabaji. I know you had a little tumble with him, but that's all in the past."

Cabaji scoffs and blows on his side bangs, looking away in annoyance.

"And this is Mohji, my first mate."

Mohji's attitude is nicer than the acrobat's, his face beams up and gives a little wave. Y/n shyly waves back at the man and avoids further interaction.

"Cabaji and Mohji meet y/n, it will be your duty to make her feel at home."

"Will do captain," Mohji replies and Cabaji only nods.

After the proper introduction, Buggy grabs y/n’s hand and takes her to his quarters. No one wonders the back; the dim lights show the empty space they trail.

He opens the door, allowing his guest to enter first. A bed is situated in the middle of the room. Candles lit the area; the red light beams everywhere it touches. The door closes and Buggy leans his back at the nearby wall.

“You can take a seat on the bed.”

Taking slow steps, she goes near it and sits on the edge. Her hands twine together on her lap. Unaware of what to do, she faces down at the awkwardness. She’s alone in a dim-lit space with a man. A dangerous man, who’s much older than her and knows nothing about. Y/n thinks to herself about the given situation, it does not look good— she’s an idiot.

“I-” Buggy takes a pause, his heart races at the sudden shut of confidence. He groans and palms his face. Taking in consideration that’s she’s not the enemy, a different viewpoint opens— a gushing feeling runs through his blood, the exact sensation when they first met.

The big bad wolf act is completely thrown at the window. He cannot let this advantage be drown by the male instinct inside of him. Sweat forms on his forehead as he tries to find a way to break the silence. He sticks to his objective and blocks the raging hormones running through his vessels.

“There’s a lot we have to consider. Where do we even start?” Uncrossing his arms, he raised them at the question. “Obviously our issues are connected by one thing. The only way to advance is getting inside their manor.”

“How will we do that? The place has a high-level security system guarding the perimeter 24/7.”

“I figured that. So, it occurred to me that you have a vital entryway.”

“No. I know what you’re going to say.”

“Hm, think about it. Do you know how easy it is to infiltrate if they invite you by the front doors?”

“I’m sorry, but I will not submit to Yasi.”

A smile plastered on his face, a little relieved at that comment. “Then what do you suggest we do?”

“Dr. Hans, I want to investigate his office before we plan any further.”

Buggy raises an eyebrow, confused at the proposal. “What’s your motive?”

“I want to rule out something before we get our hands dirty.”

He shrugs, not wanting to debate. “Hm, if you insist.”

“Okay,”—she yawns— “can we continue this another time?”

“Sleepy already?”

She gets up and rubs her eyes. “It’s past my bedtime and I’m ready to sleep in my bed. This night has been. . . exhausting. . .”

“I’m not letting you leave; you will stay here for the night.” He blocks the door and pushes her back to his bed.

“Why?”

“I don’t have much time and I rather get started on this investigation.”

“Alright I get it, but I want to go home.”

Buggy does not want to return y/n. He’s determined to make the woman his, whether she likes it or not.

“I’m not sending you back out there. Besides it’s best that we’re not seen together.”

She groans in defeat, but he’s right. It’s past midnight and lord knows what rumors would spark if they saw her with the pirate.

“Fine, I’ll stay.”

“Good girl.” He pats her head with a grin.

“I’m not a pet,” she mutters. “Say. . . are we sharing the bed? I-I’m not comfortable sleeping in the same room as you. . . no offense.”

Buggy takes a step back and huffs out, “I’m not a perv, geez. But no, I wasn’t planning to.” A little lie, he totally would love to. He then points to an opening at the other side of the room. “There’s a bathroom inside, I’m sure there’s everything you need to freshen up.”

Y/n looks at it, the lack of light made it hard to distinguish how it looked. “There’s no door?”

“There’s a curtain you’ll have to slide.”

“How did you guys manage to place a bathroom?”

“Okay, you’re starting to ask too many questions,” he sighs in annoyance.

“Just go in, I’ll be back to check on you later.” He turns to exit the room and looks back at her one more time. “My men will be keeping guard. I recommend you stay put,” he says turning to knob. The door shuts, leaving y/n alone.

A small huff leaves from her lips. She observes the room, it is filled with clothing and props. Piles of it sitting on a chair in the corner of the room. The only thing free of the mess is the bed, she inspects it closely. It’s a king size bed, extravagant, made fit for a true king. She lays down on the bedding. It’s quite comfortable, the sheets are of silk. A typical cream color, with a pearly shine. Countless pillows board across the frame of the bed. Definitely does not compare to her own.

“I wonder if he stole it,” she thinks to herself. “Of course he did. . .”

She rolls out of the bed and heads to the bathroom. There’s no light switch, she scampers around trying to find a source of light and found a small lamp on the sink’s counter. The place is one would expect of a temporary bathroom, specially built by pirates. She opens the curtain of the poorly constructed shower; the flooring is not dirty. It’s clean enough to use.

It pings her mind that the average pirate does not maintain their hygiene, yet Buggy has a variety of soaps and other essentials. It’s to her luck that the man cares about his image.

“Okay, what am I going to change to afterwards. . .”

Looking around, she opens a small cabinet and found folded clothes. It’s men sizing, but it will do. She grabs a white shirt and briefs, hoping they were clean.

The shower is quick, she did not want Buggy around before she finished. The towel she used is not rough on her skin, it’s fluffy and soft, unlike the one she owned. She understands they steal for a living, but to have luxurious household items, did not occur to her. It’s assumed they only care for precious metal, maybe they’re not so dirty.

After drying her body, curiosity followed, searching around the steamy bathroom. It is no surprise that the sink cabinet is full of cosmetics. Who would have thought Buggy cared so much about his appearance. She does not complain; after all, he has all the supplies she needs. Finishing her nighty routine, she puts on his clothes.

The shirt is rather large and baggy, it hides the briefs underneath. Fresh out the shower, the chill temperature of the room raises goosebumps on her skin. She heads straight to the bed, wrapping herself with the sheets. It’s cold as there’s no thick blanket. Y/n hides her face with the thin blanket, her nose engulfs the lingering scent. It smells like Buggy, it’s comforting. A hint of musk and cologne is enough to spark a lusting attraction towards it. The aromas drowse her, and her eyelids become heavy, slowly giving in to her slumber. It was not long before she lost the battle and peacefully laid in the cozy pillowing that surrounds her.

A couple of hours go by and Buggy returns. He cracks to the door open and peeks inside, she’s sound asleep. He carefully steps in, softly closing the door behind him. The sound of his boots closes in on the bed, creaking the floor below. Buggy sits at the edge, observing her up close.

From the moment he saw her, a new feeling emerged inside of him. Never has he seen someone look at him with such adoration. He reaches inside his coat and pulls out a small doll. It’s the clown rag doll, he snuck back in her room and retrieved the broken doll. It’s fixed now, one of his seamstresses patched the torn pieces.

He ruined her fascination about clowns and the guilt is immense. The pirate clutches the doll in his hand, the beady little eyes stare back at him. So small and pathetic— that’s what he called it earlier and he’s right. Even so, he smiles at it. He sits the doll next to her, hoping she’ll forgive him.

As he proceeds to leave, the creaks of the bed awaken y/n.

“Buggy? Is that you?” her groggy voice captures his attention.

She rubs her eyes and flutters them open. That’s when she noticed the doll beside her. Immediately, she comes out the blankets and grabs the doll.

“What?! It’s fixed?” She looked at it in amazement, hugging it dearly. “When did you have time to get it back?”

“I have my ways.”

“Thank you, for a moment I thought you were a terrible person, but I appreciate fixing what you’ve done.”

The pirate knows he is. He continues to be with his selfish acts, keeping her in this place. He could have taken her back, but out of his own greed, he will not. Instead, a created a note to her parents, hoping they’ll believe the message. He wrote that she’ll be at a friend’s house, helping them with a research project.

“It’s the least I could do.”

“I’m glad you got it. I-It helps me sleep. . .” Embarrassed, she hides her face with the doll.

“Ha, you still sleep with a doll? That’s adorable,” he coos.

Y/n face turns bright red. “It eases my nightmares,” she whispers, justifying the act.

“Nightmares?” Intrigued, he brings a chair next to the bed and sits.

“The dreams began after the death of my parents. Since then, I constantly have them.” She looks into the button eyes of the clown. “My mother gave this to me. It helps with the pain.”

Buggy could not describe how he felt at those words. If he did not feel horrible before, it's worse. A true vile monster.

“Do you see them in your sleep?”

She nods. “I rather not talk about the details.”

He respects her choice, but he wonders what grisly images the nightmares cause. “Well, you’ll be able to sleep in peace tonight.”

She hums in response. Not wanting to disturb her anymore, he gets up to leave.

Y/n bites her bottom lip. She did not want to tell him that she wants him to stay. His presence brought tranquility and she’s been craving a stronger whiff of his scent. She’s hesitant, earlier they were fighting and it’s irrational to change minds so quickly. Still, she cannot deny the crush she has on him. He’s shown he’s not a dick. He only did it to protect himself.

She jumps out from the bed and grabs his wrist. Taken aback at the motion, he turns to look at her. He blushes at the exposure of her legs. The thin shirt barely hiding the hard nipples underneath. His eyes avoid further contact at the tempting sight, restricting any thought about the semi-nude woman alone in his room. His body freezes at the sudden blood rush to his lower region. Imagination runs wild, thinking what shape and size hides behind the white cloth.

“I know I said I didn’t want you near me, but I feel safe having you here.”

Buggy does not say a single word.

“I hope you don’t mind.”

He gulps hard. Yes, he did not mind, but it’s too soon to be this intimate. He doesn’t know if he can resist going feral. The last time he was with a woman. . . well it’s been ages, to the point that there’s no memory on the matter. He lies about his status, but in reality, he’s a loser. He regains control and fights to maintain his composure.

“Why would I say no to my dear guest.”

She smiles, only worsening his situation. “You can lay back down. I need to clean myself.” He excused himself and rushed in the bathroom, hoping she did not see his large bulge.

In the shower, he stares at his harden member. He grits his teeth; it’s not going down. The last time he touched himself happened long ago. He did not waste time lusting after women, why bother? No one dared to pay him attention. Now that one did, he completely folded.

His hands wrap around it firmly, he hitched at the touch. He pumps it slow, his thumb adding pressure to the sensitive head. It’s been a while; he almost forgot the feeling. The process was quick, his hot cum splattered on the shower curtain and a wave of shame hit him hard. Such a vulgar deed with a lady waiting for him. He cleans the white mess and finishes his shower.

His long damp hair hangs over his face, he moves it out the way to expose his bare skin. His grease paint is gone, most of it at least. Pigment remains on his skin, it’s never easy to take out. His nose pops out the most, insecurities rush in. He hates how he looks without the makeup. It tied his clown persona together and now he’s just a man with an obnoxious nose.

A hard slap to the face ceases the self-loathing. He took one last look at himself before putting on his sleepwear and barged out the bathroom. Y/n sat on the bed, wrapped around the blankets once again. She glances over at Buggy confused at why he still wore the clown nose.

“It’s real,” he says before she's able to mention it.

The pores on the nose made sense now, it was obvious. She notices a dread look from the man. To be born with a red rounded structure, must be difficult. Y/n is not disgusted by it, but she understands the resentment of the facial feature.

An unprecedented statement comes out her mouth.

“I think it suits you.”

In shock, he furrowed his eyebrows. “You’re lying,” anger in his voice caught y/n off guard. Buggy covers his nose and turns his back at her.

“I mean it.”

"Tsk, you only say that out of pity," he grunts out.

"Your nose is unique. It's cute on you," she giggles, pinching the small red ball on her doll.

Removing his hands off his face, he snaps his head back. "Cute?" Buggy marches to the side of the bed and snatches the doll out of her hand. "How dare you call me cute. Don't compare me to your little toy."

"I'm sorry, I actually find you hot. . ." she mumbles, unaware she said it out loud.

Flustered by her words, a dark shade of red spreads across his face. Y/n covers her mouth, embarrassed at the confession. Buggy gently hands the doll back and sits next to her. "You're not toying with me, are you?"

She shakes her head as she played with her fingers. Buggy palms his face, his hair falling over his shoulders. He sighs and flips the hair out his face. The wet strands hit her. "I didn't know your hair was this long," she says wrapping her finger around a few strands.

"Hm?"

"It's pretty and the color is quite vibrant."

With the corner of his eye, he blushes at her soft smile. The two remain quiet and Buggy decides to lay down, closing his eyelids. Y/n captures his bare face, his appearance is drastically different. His wrinkles are visible, but that does not deduce his attractiveness. Despite the large nose, he looked normal and not the intimidating pirate from before.

She also lays down and looks up at the ceiling. Buggy peaks from one eye, watching her intently. The silence consumes the room. Bothered by it, he decided to speak.

“How old are you anyway?”

“I’m y/a.”

He calculates the age gap and gaps.

“This feels illegal. . ."

She laughs. “Is it that bad? What’s your age?”

“I’m 37.”

“Oh-”

Her heart sinks a little at the number. She scoots back from him; a sick feeling arises from her stomach. She’s sharing a bed with a man that could be her uncle or worse. But she longed for an intimate partner, someone who can take the pain away. Y/n recollects herself and brushes her fingers over his hand.

“I don’t mind. . .”

“What do you want with an old crusty clown like me? I’m hideous. I’m no man worth your time.”

She looked at him with daze. Y/n didn’t know what came hold of her. Lost in the building hormones inside of her, she gave a soft peck on the tip of his nose.

Buggy eyes widen, completely paralyzed at the sensation of her lips.

“Goodnight, Buggy.”

She turns over and hides her crimson face. Buggy appalled by the kiss, grabs his nose. He swallows his saliva and buries himself in the blanket they shared. The two maintained their distance, unsure on what to think about the situation. Buggy groans, hiding his throbbing boner. He tugs on his scalp and turns to sleep in the other direction. A heavy tension fills the atmosphere, lasting hours into the night. Y/n managed to fall asleep as Buggy stayed up, thinking about the loving kiss. Slumber eventually reached him, the sweet touch fading into in his dreams.

A/N: Sorry this took so long, but boom here it is. Enjoy! :)

On a side note. . . should I make it spicer????

[lasloser-mc-useless]

I made a master criminal worm and a sea dragon out of polymer clay

I just improved the sea dragon because I was just messing around with what clay I had. It was nice though. Its been a while since I've made anything out of clay.

[gazs-blue-hat]

Potent Poisons and Precious Passions

Loosely based off of this post. It's not where I intended this story to go but I'm pleased with how it came out. I also never written smut before so please give me feedback on that! If this is terrible I’m sorry lol.

Simon "Ghost" Riley x F! Reader

Fluff, Slight Angst, Fluff, Smut (In that order)

Word Count: 7,869

Summary: You and Ghost are pretending to be married for a mission. Little do you know, your one-sided crush on the large man wasn't as one-sided as you thought.

Minors DNI 18+ content (There's a second cut to warn you where it starts)

TW- Jealousy, Poison, Canon typical violence and language, Creepy Guy behavior (Not done by Simon), Choking, Drug Use, Biting, Spitting

NSFW TW- aggressive kissing, semi-protected P i V sex (Wrap it before you tap it please). Soft Mdom Simon. Praises. Consent checks (very important) Aftercare (also very important). Oral F receiving

Terms used- Sweet Thing, Darling, Love, Sweetheart

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO ANYBODY HERE OR ON ANOTHER SITE TO REPOST, COPY, TRANSLATE OR FEED MY WORK TO AN A.I OF ANY KIND.

Eight weeks, it had been eight weeks since you and Simon were sent out on this stupid mission. You had no connection to your team and no way out until the mission was completed. Your tasks were to infiltrate the local arms trade network and make contact with the leader. Once you and Simon got all friendly with him, you were to take him out.

While the team preferred him to be alive, they had given you execute authority. You and Simon had agreed to do your best to keep him alive. That is where your expertise in poisons came in. You had created a lip tint that carried a strong tranquilizer. All you had to do was get the arms dealer to either drink out of the same cup as you or something similar. Of course, Simon hadn't had any problems with this plan at first.

As you two were walking into the extravagant banquet hall, his arm around your waist and a shiny golden ring on his left ring finger, he was having doubts.

He knew you were capable, he knew you had the ability to complete this mission and he was only here for backup, but the lingering feeling of worry started to worm through his defenses. He had known you for years and he still hadn't mustered up enough courage to confess how he really felt about you.

Sure there had been lingering looks and touches passed between you two. Sure you had shared a bed once or twice but nothing ever came of it. As far as he was concerned, you had no interest in him besides friendship.

He unconsciously gripped your waist harder and you looked up at him. Your makeup was spectacular and it really made your eyes pop. The beautiful eyes he dreamed of every night. "What is it?" You ask in a soft voice, your head turned in that cute way he loves so much. He shakes his head and examines his surroundings, making a mental count of the exits and entrances. "Nothing love, nothing at all." He mumbles as you two meet the guard at the front door who was checking tickets. It had been no small feat but you and Simon were invited to the gala after pulling some very particular strings in the criminal underground.

You hadn't always been the sweet girl you are now. You used to work with some of the most deadly minds in the world. You created poisons and gasses that rivaled even the most toxic ones already known. You were a master of your craft and once your previous operation went off the rails, Captain Price was quick to snatch you up.

You nodded and looked around the room yourself. Simon was supposed to watch your back as you got closer to the target. He had taken a shining to you quickly and had offered you a private audience with him, providing you the perfect opportunity to take him down. You didn't quite see your host yet and you looked up at Simon.

You two met with the doorman and handed him your tickets. "Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Ripley, so lovely you could make it." He said while taking your tickets and writing in his ledger. You smiled and gave a slight head nod as a greeting. Simon did the same and pulled you eve closer. He couldn't help but feel the rush of butterflies fill him at your proximity. He was instantly brought back to this afternoon while you were getting ready for this gala.

"Darling, which color should I go for? The red or the black?" You had asked as you held up both dresses. You had no way of knowing if this hotel room had been bugged or not so you had to keep up appearances even when nobody else was around. It actually wasn't all that hard to do. You were just calling Simon things you had always wanted him to call you.

"Hmmm...I think the red goes better with the makeup you wanted to wear for tonight. Wear that one." He had called from the bathroom as he was fixing his hair. He never really had to think about how to style his hair before. He always wore the mask while on duty and had nobody to impress when he wasn't. He sighed as he tried to get his hair to lay how he wanted it to.

You gently knocked on the door to announce you were coming in. Simon was wearing half of his tux while he was struggling with his blond hair. He glanced at your reflection in the mirror and he almost choked on his own spit. You looked absolutely stunning in your dark red dress. He blinked a few moments to gather himself before going back to messing with his hair. You stood next to him at the large countertop, putting in earrings that matched your dress.

"Struggling a bit there?" You asked softly. There was no judgement in your voice, there never was. He knew you were genuinely asking if he needed help. That's another thing he loved about you—your genuineness. You had never once lied to him or anybody on the team. You had been completely open with your opinions and your words. If you asked a question, you meant it. You were never sarcastic unless it was very clear.

Simon sighed and nodded. "Can't get the ends to stay flat. They keep pokin' up at the top." He said with a frown. You nodded and gestured for him to sit on the edge of the bathtub so you could reach his head. He felt his heart speed up as he felt your hands on his shoulders.

"Hand me the pomade there and I'll see what I can do." You said softly while grabbing a comb from the counter. Simon did as you asked and grabbed the small tin off the counter. You stood behind him and gently ran your fingers through his hair. It took everything inside of him not to moan at the contact. How long had it been since someone caressed him like this? How long has it been since he's felt a gentle touch?

Too long

You gently combed his hair and removed all of the knots he hadn't been able to get out. His hair was shocking soft and kind of wavy. He would never admit it, but the weeks of using your hair products were doing wonders for his hair. It was also doing great things for his skin. "You've been taking my advice I see." You mumbled as you focused on parting his hair in a way that would be flattering. He hummed in the affirmative as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back when you prompted him to do so. Your hands were gentle as you ran your hands through his hair with the pomade, making it stick down in a good and flattering way.

Simon almost whined when you removed your hands from his head, wiping them on a cloth to get rid of the excess pomade. You looked at him and a bright smile lit your face. "You look lovely darling. Absolutely stunning." You praise while pressing a delicate kiss to his cheek. He simply smiled and nodded, standing up to his full height. You went back to the counter and removed a sealed lipstick tube from it's airtight container.

Simon and you expertly navigated the gala room before finding the place you were supposed to sit during dinner. This gala was not only a display of wealth and power, it was also an underground auction for weapons and various tools for terrorists and warlords alike.

"That's the new color you're wearing right?" He asked softly, leaning over to whisper in your ear. You looked up at him and nodded. The color was perfect on your skin, formulated to be the most flattering it could be.

"It is. I was luck enough that I got the version that won't stain." You replied. That meant that it had no chance of hurting you. You had always been careful with the poisons you created and made sure you always had an antidote handy. If there was no antidote, then you had slowly worked on gaining a resistance to it. This is one that you had built up immunity to during the weeks of the mission.

Simon nodded and sat up straighter in his seat. He didn't like where the host had seated the two of you. It was in the middle of the room near no exits or easy hiding spots. As if you could sense his nerves, you placed a gentle hand on top of his. Simon unclenched his hands and relaxed a bit, knowing you were safe and nearby.

He remembered those weeks of you being dead tired every night after dosing yourself with your own poisons. You were lethargic and rather out of it for the first few weeks. There had been many a night when you had woken up shaking from pain and confusion as the drugs worked through your system. By week five you had gained enough of a tolerance to wear the poison on your lips without suffering from any of the effects.

As the dinner continued, you and Simon watched the people coming and going from the gala. Your necklace had a small camera in it that was recording the faces of everybody who was in attendance tonight. Those people would be looked into by the CIA and other organizations.

You gently nudged Simon's leg with your foot from under the table. Your mark had arrived. He stood on a large stage that held a handful of musicians playing soft music. He was wearing a disgustingly bright suit that didn't match him at all. A large rose pinned on his chest leaked an artificial scent into the air.

He tapped the microphone he was handed to get everybody's attention.

"Welcome! Dear friends and acquaintances, I am happy to see you all here at the annual Perchet gala. It is nice to see some new faces among the familiar ones." He said while gesturing his hand to you and Simon. You politely smiled and blushed while he took a "sip" of the champagne that was on the table. Of course, neither of you would be partaking in any of the refreshments, just to be safe.

"The main event will take place in thirty minutes, followed by dancing and general mingling. For now, enjoy dinner!" He said while snapping his fingers. A slurry of chefs carried large platters of food on their splayed fingers for the guests to eat and enjoy. You and Simon politely took a few of them. "I can't say I know what these are." You mumbled as you looked at the curious dish before you. It looked like someone had split a large seed down the middle and filled it with a strange orange goop. "Sea Urchins...rare ones too. Prechet really wants to impress." Simon replied while examining the dish. You nodded and looked down at the sea creatures.

"Sad. They're not endangered are they?" You asked, looking up at him. He shrugged. While he did know a lot of things, marine life wasn't one of them

" 'Dunno. I only know that these are sea urchins because of the spines here. Stepped on one of these buggers once. Was not an experience I'd like to repeat." He whispered. He sensed a presence behind him and he glanced out of his peripheral. Prechet himself was walking his way over to you two, a smug smile on his face.

"Ah! Mr. Ripley, so lovely to see you here." Prechet said while Simon stood to shake the man's hand. He noticed that the Frenchman didn't remove his eyes from your figure once. "And your lovey wife. How nice to see you my dear." He said while bowing slightly and taking your hand to place a kiss upon. Simon mentally cursed himself for not reminding you to put the poison on your hand as well.

"Thank you for having us Mr. Prechet. We were delighted to have been invited! I'm quite excited to see what you have planned for your main event." You say with false honey dripping from your lips. The sleezy man nodded eagerly, still holding your hand. "Thank you my dear, thank you. I do hope you find something that interests you. I'd hate for this night to be a waste." He said with a certain glint in his eye. Simon felt all of the warning bells go off in his head. This man was planning something...something dangerous and you were going to be part of it.

"I doubt you could ever disappoint Mr. Prechet." You say with a soft blush on your face. He watched as you subtly tried to remove your hand from the Frenchman's grip but failed to do so. "You flatter me madame. Please, enjoy yourself tonight. I'll save you a dance perhaps?" He said while pressing a number of kisses on your hand. Simon saw your jaw clench as you pressed your teeth together. "Of course sir. Of course." You reply as he releases your hand. Simon doesn't miss the way you place it behind you back and start rubbing it with a swab. He had to repress a smile. You were so clever, collecting his DNA like that. it was freely given and would be admissible in court if it came down to it.

Prechet only nodded to Simon as he left to mingle with other guests. Simon tried his best to quench the roaring inferno that raged in his chest.

Jealousy

Why was he jealous of Prechet? He had absolutely no reason to be. Perhaps it was because he longed to press his own lips against your skin like the frenchman had. Or perhaps it was because he saw you as more than a co-worker and even more than a friend. The Jealousy he held in his heart continued to burn even as Prechet walked away. "Whew. I wish I had done a swatch on my hand, just to be sure this color was right." You mumble while stuffing the swab back in it's container in your purse. Simon didn't say anything, only watching as Prechet continued to make his rounds through the gala. "Darling, are you feeling alright?" You asked while you placed a delicate hand on his wrist. He shook himself from his stupor and nodded. "Yeah. I'm alright. Just waiting for the main event." He sighed as he sat back down. He still watched Prechet wander around the room until it was time for the aforementioned "main event"

"Now, when the gala is in full swing, Prechet will start an auction. At this auction there will be a small flashdrive. I need you two to collect said flashdrive." Laswell said at the brief they had attended 8 weeks ago. Simon nodded and looked over to you, watching your curious eyes flick through the information in the folder before you. "What's on it?" He asked. Laswell sighed. General Shepherd sat up straighter in his seat and looked over the both of you, a deep frown on his face. "Classified. All you need to know is that it is very important that you retrieve it AND Prechet. We would prefer Prechet alive but if you have no choice...you do have execute authority." He said while folding his arms. You nodded and closed the folder. "And we have to pretend to be married because..." You asked, leaving the question open. Shepherd chuckled while Laswell sighed.

"Here's the deal. YOu two will be thoroughly check by his own analysts and hackers. While we were able to come up with new identities for you, it would be easier if there was a paper trail to follow." She explained. Simon looked over at you, sharing a look. You had always known how to communicate with him without saying anything.

"A paper trail...you mean to tell me," He was cut off by you who nodded.

"That makes sense. The more of it that is real, the more believable the rest is. I understand that." You said with a kind smile on your face. Simon missed the redness that had started to creep up your neck.

"See Laswell, I told you she would understand." Shepherd said with a smirk. Laswell once again sighed and looked over to Simon.

"There won't be any record of it after this mission is done, that I can promise you." Laswell reassured. Simon started to chew on his lower lip, a nervous habit he thought he had long since broken.

"I understand. As long as she is okay with it, I'm okay with it." He said with a sigh. That had been 9 weeks ago. He and you had signed the papers in a dingy safehouse miles away from any church building.

"Not how I pictured my wedding." You said with a snicker. Simon chuckled as he signed the paper as well. He also hadn't imagined his wedding to be like this. There was only one thing present that he would have had at both.

You

After 30 or so minutes passed by, the auction started. A few pieces of information came and went without incident. A few missile codes here, a couple of arms shipments there. Even a Soviet era tank was up for bids. At the end of it all, the flashdrive was the last thing to be purchased seeing as it was the biggest thing to sell. Prechet held the small device in his hand and showed it off to the tables at the front. "This here, ladies and gentlemen. Is a complete list of names, aliases, locations and other information about a private military task force." he said with exaggerated tones. He sure was trying to make this look interesting. You glanced up at Simon, sharing a concerned look. Was it your task force that he was referring to? The 141?

"I know! I know ladies and gentlemen. Some way or another this group has harmed all of your businesses and what better way to get payback than hitting them where it hurts?" He scowled. The room rumbled with peoples voices agreeing with this statement.

"Alright, I'll start the bid at 500,000 Euros." he said while handing the flashdrive off to the auctioneer. You and Simon had been given no real money to complete this auction, but money didn't change hands until later when you would hopefully have Prechet in custody.

You and Simon shared a look and made various gestures with your facial expressions. You two decided that he would go after the flashdrive while you went after Prechet. Of course you two made a few bids on other items but never outright won any.

The flashdrive was quickly bought up by a large man who was wearing sunglasses and a black hat. Simon mentally marked this man as well as the auctioneer. As the auction was taking place, the tables and chairs had been moved to clear a space in the middle of the room to act as a dancefloor.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you so much for coming to my humble celebration. Please, dance, drink! Enjoy the rest of your evening." He said while gesturing for the musicians to begin playing music. You patted Simon's hand and headed to the dance floor while he stood and made his way over to the service door. ----------

You wandered through the bodies of mingling party guests as you tried to make your way to where you saw Prechet heading. Your wrist was caught by a rather large gentleman wearing a clear earpiece. "Mister Prechet has requested you in the lounge." He grumbled, extending his arm for you to take. You nodded and looped your arm with his, making your way up to the lounge.

The guard escorted you through various hallways until you reached a wide set of double doors. He released your arm and knocked on the door. Once opened, you could see a large room decorated with plush furniture and various animal pelts. A large glass window was at one side that allowed you to see the ballroom below. "Ah, Mrs. Ripley. So glad you could be here." Prechet said from a seat in the middle of the room. The couch was facing away from the door and towards the ballroom floor. The greasy man turned his head and gestured for you to enter the room. As you did so, the doors closed behind you and you heard a subtle 'click' from a locking mechanism.

This wasn't going to end well.

As you sat on the opposite end of the couch, Prechet scooted closer to you and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. You couldn't help but stiffen as you felt his alcohol reddled breath hitting your cheek. "Now how did a lovely woman like yourself find your way to that Mr. Ripley?" he asked, his voice low and scratchy. You felt his hand pull you closer as you turned away from him slightly. You could see a faint white powder under his nose and you frowned. He had been doing drugs. While you had a general idea what would happen if your poison interacted with drugs, you had no idea how this particular substance would interact with the substance he had taken.

"It's a cute story actually...he and I.." You were cut off when you felt his lips trace along your neck. His hand gripped your upper arm and as your tried to pull away, his hand gripped the back of your neck. "None of that now. You're my guest and shall behave accordingly." He scolded. You felt him reach a hand over and start running over your thigh, reaching higher and higher.

--------

While you were searching for Prechet, Simon was already deep within the belly of this mansion. he had replaced his tie with one of the guards so he would blend in better. He had made his way passed the surveillance room to where he knew the flashdrive would be. He expertly wove his way through the guards, acting like he belonged. The Auctioneer would be in the vault with all of the items. If he managed to make it back there, then the plan was ruined. Lucky for Simon, the auctioneer had a slight limp and didn't walk as fast. He watched the Auctioneer pass by him in the narrow corridor and it was a simple matter to pick the man's pocket as he walked by. With the flashdrive in hand, Simon made his way back by the surveillance room but paused when he heard muffled laughter. "Look how uncomfortable she is. Man..Prechet knows how to pick them." One voice said

"Yeah. Did you see her husband though? Tallest guy I've ever seen. He's got all of these marks on his face. Scary guy." Another replied. Simon stuck his head in the room and stropped breathing when he saw it.

You, pushed against a couch while Prechet kissed your neck. His hands pinned your arms above your head and you clearly were not enjoying these ministrations. Simon clenched his fists and began the fastest walk in his life. He had to act naturally, but that was becoming increasingly difficult as he made his way to the lounge area. ------

Prechet was kissing up and down your neck when you heard a knocking at the door. "Mister Prechet, we have a situation." The guard outside the door said through the wood. Prechet growled and released your neck from between his lips. "I'm busy! Handle it yourself." He shouted. He looked down at you, a sick look in his eyes. "I don't want to be disturbed . My attention is all on you Mrs. Ripley, or should I say...Mrs.Riley." He hissed. His grip on your arms became more aggressive and you could tell they would be bruised in the morning.

"Didn't think I would figure it out? We got lucky and someone was able to figure out who you two were. It wasn't easy but we got there eventually." he hissed. One of his hands went to your throat while his knees shifted to pin your arms down. You struggled as much as you could but he was incredibly strong. "You and your team will never get that drive. I have men waiting to take down your husband as we speak. I did find it off that they allowed two members of the same team to be married but I digress." He continued. His hands pressed down on your throat and it was getting harder to breathe. Black spots started to dance in your vision but you willed them away. You could handle this guy, you had to handle this guy. Pursing your lips together, you licked the poisoned lipstick off your lips and spat it in his face as hard as you could. The saliva that spattered on his face was a bright color that quickly seeped into his skin.

"You bitch. That's no way to treat your host." he growled as he shifted both hands to your throat.

-------

Simon made his way up to the lounge area with little incident. There were two guards outside the doors and if he had been in a better headspace, he probably could have taken them down silently or even lured them away.

Unfortunately for them, the jealousy that had been ignited in his chest had shifted into a raging inferno of protective rage. you had been his partner for the longest time. You knew him before Roba and even stuck by him after all of that. You were his closest friend and he would die before he let anything happen to you.

He came up the stairs and before he could make it to the two men, they alerted Prechet to their situation. He trusted that you could hold your own for a little while longer as he took down the two guards.

Both of the guards came at him but they clearly had little training against men bigger than themselves. Simon was able to quickly sweep them off of their feet and snap their necks with brutal efficiency. There was a crash behind the door and a muffled shouting sound. Simon examined the guards, looking for a key but he wasn't able to find one.

he was able to find a pistol though and he shot the locking mechanism on the door. He pushed through with his shoulder and the door gave way with a loud cracking sound.

The sight before him was horrific. You were kneeling on top of Prechet, blood dripping from your mouth as Prechet reached for his throat. You had bitten him, your teeth taking a chunk out of his neck You stood, using a handkerchief to wipe blood off of your mouth. "Who's the bitch now?" You hissed while rubbing the bruises along your neck where his hands had been. You looked over to Simon, your breathing calming but your eyes still wild and bloodshot. Simon looked down at Prechet who was slowly losing consciousness.

"I didn't bite him anywhere fatal. He'll live." You mumble as you go to spit more blood out into the sink in the room. Simon looked down at Prechet and nodded. he picked the unconscious man up and pressed a button on his watch. The signal sent would inform Laswell to send a car to pick up Prechet while you and Simon headed back to base. The mission was over.

--------

The ride back to base was silent as you two sat in the back of a car. Simon knew you were more touchy than he was, so he wasn't chocked that you opted to sit right next to him. You had your head pressed to his shoulder as you cleaned your face and neck with a wipe.

He never struggled to be physical with you, before and even after his time in Mexico. He cherished your touch and found himself relaxing under the pressure of your head on his shoulder. His left hand held yours as his other arm was wrapped over your shoulders, holding you close to his side. He glanced down at the rings on your fingers and he remembered when he had placed them there. It was still in that dingy safehouse but the rings looked dull in contrast you your eyes. The gold band on his own hand glinted in the light as he squeezed your hand. Reassuring you that he was there for you, that he understood.

Once back on base, and after you had cleaned up a bit, you debriefed with the General and Laswell who congratulated you on retrieving the flashdrive.

"Well done, both of you. Now, the paperwork for your marriage will be disposed of soon." Laswell said while she extended her hand out to receive the rings. You and Simon glanced to one another and then back down at your hands. Reluctantly, he pulled off the golden band around his finger, instantly missing the weight and warmth of it. You took a bit longer to remove the bands around your fingers but they were soon resting in Laswells hand next to Simon's.

As they exited the briefing room, Simon saw you rubbing your hand where the rings had been. You had developed a habit of spinning them around when you were nervous or thinking. "Look I,"

"Listen,"

You both started your sentences at the same time. You snickered and made a gesture for him to go first. "Please, after you."

"I was just going to say, if you want to talk about...what happened in there. My door is open for you. Fuck, if anybody knows what that's like it's me." He said softly. You nodded but did not meet his eyes. "I was just going to say thank you for coming to help. I did not want to wander that party while covered in blood. Especially blood that isn't mine." You whisper. Simon could tell you were holding something back, but he didn't want to pry. He knew that you will tell him when you were ready.

He nodded and shuffled closer to you, extending his arms out slightly. You smiled and hugged him, holding him tightly. His hand came up to rest on your upper back, counting your heartbeats. They were fast and erratic and he couldn't help but worry for you.

After the hug, you turned and headed back to your room, not seeing Simon stand in the hall to watch you go.

------

Simon was still awake in his room when he heard the gentle knock on his door. There was only one person on this entire base who would seek him out in the middle of the night like this. After putting a simple black surgical mask on his face, he opened the door and saw you standing there. Your fancy dress had been replaced with a loose sleep shirt (That he recognized as one of his) and some shorts. He could see faint bruises along your shoulders and legs as well as deep purple marks on your neck where Prechet had tried to strangle you.

"I didn't wake you up did I?" You asked softly. He shook his head and stepped aside so you could come in. he closed the door behind you and removed his mask so you could see his face. You had always been able to see what was under the mask, so there had been no point to hide his real face from you. Besides, he was comfortable with you and trusted you more than anybody else. He watched as you made your way over to the bed where you lay down, facing the wall. He smiled softly to himself and climbed in after you, listening to the bed springs creak slightly at the additional weight.

"If you spend eight weeks sleeping next to a person, it becomes hard to sleep on your own again." You whispered. He nodded and slowly placed his arms around you. You hummed softly and curled into his embrace. He could tell you had been crying but he wasn't going to mention it. He knew you just needed some attention right now. "I understand. You always have a place here, you know that." he mumbled while resting his chin on the top of your head. You nodded and took a deep, shuttering breath. "Simon, can I tell you something?" You asked after a few minutes. He nodded and looked down at you, paying attention to your facial expressions. "Anything." He whispered in reply. He felt you take a deep breath and hold it for a while before exhaling slowly. "The weeks I spent being your wife...were the happiest weeks I have had in a long time." You say as you exhale the held breath. Simon felt his heart speed up as you said those words. Was it possible that you had feelings for him too?

He only hummed in the affirmative to let you know that he heard you and was waiting for you to continue speaking.

"I mean...you felt it too, right?" You asked while looking up at him. He could see unshed tears glistening in your eyes and he moved one of his hands to cup your cheek. "Not gonna lie, but...I feel the same. Longest time I've gone since a nightmare." he said while wiping a fallen tear with his thumb. "I would...I would like to try and be yours. For real this time." You whisper as you rest your head against his broad chest. Simon felt a smile splitting his face. "I would like that too."

------------------------NSFW starts under here.-------------------------- You look up at Simon and could see the love in his eyes.

"You...you would like that too?" You whisper, feeling his heartbeat racing under your fingertips. He nodded and only held you closer. "You know...we're technically still married. And there are no rules against married couples doing this on base..." You whisper as you press your lips against his for the first time. His lips were chapped and scared but you didn't mind it. They belonged to him and for that reason, they were perfect.

Simon sighed deeply out of his nose as his hands went to your waist, squeezing ever so softly as to not hurt you. You deepened the kiss, opening your mouth and slipping your tongue into his mouth.

“Fuck you taste good.” He groaned once you two separated, a line of saliva still connecting you two. You both breathe heavily for a few seconds before Simon gently shifts so you lay under him. His hands gently caressed your waist and he looked deep into your eyes.

“May I…touch you?” He asked softly. You nodded, pulling your shirt up a bit so he could touch your bare skin.

Simon groaned at the sight of you as he placed his large hands on your smooth skin. Sure you had some scars here and there but he still believed you to be perfect.

Simon lowered his head and began to place kisses on your neck and collarbones. You clenched your thighs together, hoping for some kind of stimulation.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you wearing my shirt sweet thing.” He mumbled as he pressed a very soft kiss to your neck. He was being extremely careful if the bruises you had.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice how you spent longer in the shower while we were undercover.” He continued as he shifted his hands to be under your shirt. He made eye contact with you and you nodded, giving him permission.

He quickly removed your shirt and the sight before him made his hardened cock to twitch.

“Cheeky girl. Not wearing a bra and knowing you’d come see a man.” He growls. He takes his own shirt off and he feels your hips start to shift under him.

“Ah, am I neglecting where you want me the most?” He asked, pressing kisses down your abdomen. You whined and nodded.

“Yes…yes Si, I need you. Please. I’ve thought about it for so damn long.” You whine as you wiggle your hips under him. You can feel how hard he is and you wonder briefly if it would be a problem taking it all.

As if he could read your mind, his gaze softened slightly and he placed a gentle hand on your cheek.

“Don’t worry love. I’ll make sure you’re good and prepped for me, yeah?” He reassured. You nodded and ground your hips into his. His eyes fluttered and a deep groan rumbled in his chest.

He continued to kiss down your torso until he was met with the waistband of your shorts.

“Want me to take these off?” He asked, pressing a deep kiss to your inner thigh. Your keening moan was more than enough for him as he slipped your shorts off your body.

Simon thought his heart was going to explode when he saw you completely bare before him.

“Fuck me, I’ve dreamed of this for so damn long…” he mumbled while gently pressing his forehead against your thighs.

He could see that you were absolutely dripping for him. He took his smallest finger and gathered up some of your slick. He examined the clear material before putting his finger in his mouth to clean it.

“Oh…fuck, you taste divine love.” He moaned as he rid himself of his suffocating pants. The tent in his boxers was begging to be dealt with but Simon had other plans.

“Let me taste you love. Let me taste your pleasure.” He said these words as if praying to a God. You moaned loudly and Simon could see a precious drop of your arousal slip between your lips down to the sheets under you. He smiled and placed his large hands on your inner thighs, caressing the skin with rough fingertips. "So pretty for me love. Such a sweet little thing." He mumbled as he pressed gentle kisses from your knee to your inner thigh. He looked up at you for permission and you nodded quickly, gripping the sheets so you wouldn't pull his hair. "None of that love, you show me how I make you feel. Be as loud as you want. Grasp at me and *show* me how good I'm treating you." He said softly. You nodded and gently placed your hands on the back of his head, once again running your hands though the thick blond locks.

He growled under his breath as he firmly planted his lips over your center. Simon almost believed he had died and gone to some kind of heaven when he tasted you. He ran his tongue up your folds, gathering all of the juices that leaked from you. "Oh God, Simon!" You whispered as you clutched at him. He smiled against you and shifted his mouth's attention to your puffy clit. His sucked against the swollen bud and gently used one of his fingers to circle your weeping entrance. He cherished all of the sounds you made and he even enjoyed how you were pushing and pulling at his head. It was like you couldn't tell if you wanted his face closer or you wanted it away.

"Love the sounds you're making sweet thing. So pretty, just for me." He mumbled as he began to stroke your insides with his one finger. He was searching for that sensitive spot in the back of you, and he couldn't help but chuckle at the keening moan that launched out of your mouth when he found it.

"Right there! Please don't stop. Please, please don't stop." You begged. He pressed another finger inside of you and you almost screamed at the stretch. He knew how to prepare you so you could take him without issue. He continued to circle his tongue around your clit and pump his fingers inside of you. "Taking my fingers so well love. Doing so well for me." He praised as he felt your walls clenching around him. "Gonna...gonna cum..Simon.." You mumbled, tugging at his hair. He hummed into you, sending vibrations through you.

"Cum for me sweetheart. Make a mess on my fingers. Make a mess on my face." He encouraged as he continued to pleasure you. He felt you clamp around his fingers like a vice as liquid pleasure surged around his hand. He moaned softy as you relaxed around him and he was able to remove his fingers from your entrance. "Beautiful love. Absolutely beautiful." He whispered as he licked his fingers clean. Your face was covered in a thin layer of sweat as your breaths came in sharp gasps as you came down from your high. Simon shifted so he was able to embrace you, holding you close to his chest.

"That's it love...breathe. I've got you." he reassured as he ran gentle fingers through your hair. Your eyes were misty and unfocused with pleasure. He pressed a gentle kiss on the crown of your head, waiting for you to come back to him. "I don't think I've ever cum that hard...good God Simon.." You mumbled as you turned to look up at him. He smiled and bent low to kiss your lips. You shivered as you tasted yourself on his lips. Simon couldn't help but grind into your hips, revealing to you exactly how aroused he was. "Are you comfortable taking the next step love? We can stop here and just go to sleep." He said once the kiss broke, saliva stringing between your parted lips. You eagerly nodded and pulled him into another bruising kiss. He grunted and moved so he was hovering over you, your head pinned between his forearms. "So pretty like this love, so pretty. God I love your sounds." he whispered as you placed your hands around his broad shoulders. He pumped his weeping cock in his hand and gently pressed the tip against your entrance. "At any moment you want me to stop, I will. I'll go slow, I promise." He reassured as he looked into your eyes. You took a deep breath and nodded as he slowly began to sheathe himself in to you.

"Oh fuck, you're so big." You whine as you arch your back slightly. Simon grunted above you, trying his best to not shove his entire length into you. "Steady....breathe love. Relax for me, there ya go." He said from above you. He pressed his forehead against yours as he continued to press himself all the way into you. Soon, his pelvis touched yours when he was fully settled into you. "Fuck love, you're so damn tight." He groaned, pressing a sloppy kiss on your cheek. Your nails were digging into his shoulders, surely leaving crescent shaped indentions in his flesh. "Let me know when I can move alright?" He prompted. You nodded and waited for your pulsing walls to stop stinging. He wasn't your first sexual encounter but damn if he wasn't the most filling. You soon nodded and gave him permission to start moving.

And move he did.

His thrusting started slowly, making sure to let you adjust to his size. Once your sounds became louder and more eager, his speed picked up and soon the bed was making soft creaking sounds at your movements. "Fuck love, you feel so good around me, squeezing me so tight. You're bloody dripping for me love." He rambled as he thrusted into you harder. He could tell you were about to cum again and it took almost all of his strength to not thrust into you harder, chasing his own release. "You gonna cum again? You gonna cum on my thick cock?" He asked. He watched as you nodded eagerly, wrapping your hands around his wrists to ground yourself. "Come on sweetheart, cum on my cock." He urged as he placed his hands on your cheeks. He wanted to hold you as close as possible when you were at the peak of your pleasure. "Cumming! Simon fuck! Fuck me!" you wailed as your walls clenched around him for the second time. He watched your eyes roll back in your head as your legs began to shake with the force of your orgasm. Once your eyes focused again, Simon's hips began to stutter against yours. "Fuck, I'm close love. Where do you want it?" He moaned as his peak was fast approaching. "Inside Simon. Please, need to feel you dripping from me." You whispered. If he could have gotten any harder, he would have. "You on something?" He asked, wanting to be sure. His mind wasn't so far gone that he wasn't able to think. You nodded, eyes crossing once again. "IUD. Safe." You stuttered out. Simon nodded and pressed his lips against yours as he came. His spend leaking deep within your walls. he felt drops of sweat drip off of his face and land on your forehead once he pulled back from the kiss. He slowly pulled his softening cock out of you and moved to pull you into his arms. "Did so well for me. Best shag I've ever had." He praised as he pressed gentle kisses on your temple. You nodded, body still shaking from the force of your last orgasm. "Can I get you anything love? You need water or..." he looked at his spend leaking out of your twitching hole and he couldn't help but feel proud of his work. "Hold on, I'll grab you something to clean up with..." He said as he stood and dampened a cloth for you. He cleaned himself off and then made his way back to you. Your hand rested on your chest and traced over the bruises on your throat.

"I'm gonna clean you off now alright love?" he said as he allowed you to feel the warmth of the cloth before he put it on you. You hummed in the affirmative and he lovingly wiped the fluids off your inner thighs and outer lips.

"Thank you.." You whispered as he discarded the cloth and returned to the bed to embrace you once more. He lay on his back and you shifted to rest your head over his heart. He was instantly brought back to all of those nights spent in that fancy hotel. You always slept with his heart under your ear, lulling you to sleep.

"I know we're married and all, but would it be weird of me to say I love you?" You whisper sleepily as you trace mindless shapes on his bare chest. Simon's heart sped up and he could feel thin pinpricks of tears welling in his eyes.

"I don't think it's weird at all. I think I love you too." He replied as he ran his fingers through your hair. You hummed softly and closed your eyes, breathing softly. Simon closed his eyes and counted every single one of his lucky stars that things worked out for you two in the end.

"Goodnight Mr. Riley." You whispered, sleep taking your mind. "Goodnight...Mrs. Riley." he responded, allowing sleep to take his mine as well.

taglist (Plz ask if you want to be added!)

@ghosmooth-operator

[calcat89]

Election was a disaster. I’m actively paying to get a masters degree in public health, an industry that RFK and his brain worms will be in charge of shortly. And my favorite criminal minds ships aren’t even canon. It’s so bleak right now

[loquaciousquark]

Y'all, MALUS THORM. JIMINY CHRISTMAS.

It's been a long, long, long time since I got squeebed out by eye stuff, but him poking himself right through the ocular into his brain legit made me grimace. Gross, Larian. Fun gross, but gross. Not even Volo's eye thing was that bad.

In other news, I'm well into Act 2! I've fully explored the eastern half of the map and am working my way through the western side north-down, since Moonrise seems to be at the bottom left of the map. I've really, REALLY been enjoying this game--the combat, dialogue, characters, and plot progression are something I've been missing since probably DA2 days, and aside from a few early missed camp conversations, I feel confident I'm seeing as much of the game as I can, which is what I wanted. (Some people from Early Access had been posting saying that if you long-rested, you could seriously affect the outcome of the druid grove/goblin camp stuff, so I was avoiding resting as much as possible. How tragic!) This is exactly the kind of map structure I wanted from Inquisition and Andromeda; please don't lock parts of an "open world" map behind a level cap. Just make it linear and big and scale the enemies and make the higher-level stuff behind doors or later in the game. Don't give me a sandstorm I can't enter with no clear game context clues that this is a "COME BACK LATER" portion of the map, especially if you're determined to put quest markers within it.

The plot of this game still has me guessing! I'm so intrigued by this dream visitor who seems to want only the best for me but encourages use of the worms. I've only consumed one, but I've had it strengthened regardless by a few in-game choices (the illithid in the Underdark was a big one--the sound I made when he floated onscreen!). Lae'zel is currently undergoing a crisis of faith, and I strongly suspect Shadowheart's not far behind. Astarion is determined to make a deal with Raphael which I think is dumb, but Wyll, Karlach, and Gale all seem to be in great shape aside from their individual ticking time bombs inside them. I want to be able to add this His Majesty cat to the camp party and it's KILLING me I can't.

Romance: Astarion, no I don't know why, no I don't really think he's that similar to Fenris aside from the superficial background, yes I know the master and scar stuff and trust me that's not the source of the pull. I think I'm more interested in the thread (which I assume will come to fruition) of teaching the sneering peacock how to be sincere. The slavery stuff is incidental. Stop LOOKING AT ME.

I did somewhere trip a Karlach romance flag and finally had to let her down after her second piece of infernal iron, which SUCKED. God, I ain't felt so bad in a video game since...I don't know. Virmire, maybe?

I'll post screenshots shortly, but I'm playing a rogue (irony) named Tavish Gale (double-irony, sorry Gale), and I've REALLY been enjoying sneak attack and poisons and lockpicking. I hardly ever play rogues in games like these, but here we are! She has the criminal background, but also has red hair and freckles turned all the way up, so in terms of the Astarion romance structure in my head I'm playing with some contrasts between someone who has spent their whole life trying to hide in the shadows vs. someone who's spent two hundred years trying to crawl out of them.

[autistictaylorhebert]

if ur still doing power gens from triggers or vice versa:

a cape who has the ability to make people perceive them as totally normal and unobtrusive. It gets harder the more diverged from the norm the cape��s appearance/behavior is, but works on an unlimited amount of people. The cape can’t just walk up to people and stab them, but they can steal stuff, collect secrets, and do stealth pretty well

A cape with the ability to turn into a giant worm (unrecognizable from their civvie form) and eat whatever with no consequences, including things that would be harmful to normal people, like uranium and asbestos. However, the more toxic or inedible the substance, the longer it takes for them to become human again and the larger they grow.

a trigger where someone was pushed into a position of authority they couldn’t handle and slowly ground themselves down trying to do everything. They made a couple bad decisions and now those bad decisions are barreling headfirst at them ready to destroy everything they’ve built and there’s nothing they can do. If it helps they deal with those through isolation, face building as scary, and paranoia

a trigger wherein someone had all their dirty laundry aired in front of people who they were trying to keep it from (and genuinely cared about to some degree) and the buildup was watching these people grow increasingly violent in the solutions to their (admittedly very dire) problems and are now worried that they’re going to be the next problem on the list

whoahg thats a few...

First prompt: that's a kind of broad/general stranger power? My head-canon for these kinds of brain affecting invisibility powers is that the triggeree felt ignored/unseen (social master-ish pressure), before experiencing a stranger trigger where they needed to be unseen. So they were treated as normal and unobtrusive by everyone around them (to the point where it was awful+they felt like they were drowning) and then they experienced a trigger where they got picked out of a crowd in the worst way. This might be a random attack like Aisha, or it might be something like a bank robbery where one of the criminals picks them out for being "disrespectful" (when they were trying not to do anything unobtrusive or "diverged from the norm").

Second prompt: Changer power with a worm/caterpillar form and a focus on food? It feels similar to Brie from Pale, so some kind of eating disorder like Pica feels somewhat likely? Or it could be a mix of Anorexia and Pica. Maybe they're also obsessed with an idea of finally blooming after their problems are over, and that's what leads to the caterpillar imagery?

They grew up below the poverty line and malnourished, and as a young adult are convinced that they're always on the verge of being fat+overweight. It comes in waves where they get anxious, then self-isolate and "diet", then become hospitalised due to the Pica and being underweight, before slowly coming back to work (leading to the concept of the cool-down before they leave the changer state, based on what they ate). The trigger itself could come when they return to work at their office, and a co-worker (not knowing about their issues) remarks on their weight, validating all of their problems at once.

Third prompt: A Tinker that fits the "mad scientist" weaverdice category? So maybe they can build drones, cameras, and tinkertech architecture (if not buildings then stuff like secret doors, traps, etc), but they need to pay extra close attention to everything they build and "micromanage" it in a constant juggling act, or risk their gear blowing up or attacking themself or their allies.

Fourth prompt: Stranger? Circus's hammer-space power is apparently a stranger power, and I like the idea that if you just wanted to hide something instead of your whole self, then you'd get something similar. The "these people are gonna be violent with me" angle could also lead to a blaster power, as it's a threat from a "distance", in a sense.

So, they get the ability to store a large-ish number of objects in a pocket dimension, and can then remove those objects peacefully, or blast them out with added high velocity. They can also add velocity/direction the the blasted objects after they're fired, allowing for curving or "homing" attacks.

[bracketsoffear]

Cypher (Valorant) "Cypher is an extremely skilled surveillance specialist and information broker, capable of sniffing out any secrets the enemy could be hiding. He has a penchant for constantly gathering data and information on both his enemies AND allies at all times, to the point where he can make casual reference to the more classified or fabricated details of some of his teammates' backgrounds, as well as pull out everyone's personal passwords at the drop of a hat. His official description even declares that "No secret is safe. No maneuver goes unseen. Cypher is always watching", several of his voicelines place emphasis on vision, eyes, blindness, or some derivative thereof (particularly in relation to his spycams), and one of his in-game abilities involves him performing neural theft on dead enemies to recover intel on the opposing team. Which isn't blatantly Eye-related as far as I know, but does illustrate the levels he is willing to go to in order to gather information -- not even the things tucked into the recesses of your mind are safe.

However, that's not all: whilst Cypher is very much fixated on amassing knowledge about the people around him, he is also desperate to keep his own secrets under lock and key. His personal file in the Protocol's database is missing, he constantly covers up every inch of skin, and where Cypher knows basically everything there is to know about his teammates, his teammates barely know anything about him, which has caused people to distrust him on more than one occasion. This secrecy is partly for practical reasons, as his being compromised could easily lead to a massive security breach, but also for personal reasons as well: while he is on a mission to capture Fade, she uses her fear-based powers to manifest the deepest, darkest nightmares of all the agents present. Cypher's fear is represented by being tied to a chair and surrounded by cameras, while a figure comes up from behind and pulls off his mask. Additionally, the blackmail dossier he'd recieved from Fade some time prior to this mission taunts him for his constant desire to run and hide when faced with the prospect of anything about him being known, as well as how protective he is of his secrets to the point of alienating everyone around him including his loved ones.

All this effectively makes Cypher an avatar that both spreads the paranoia of being watched and having your secrets known while at the same time suffering from it. Which, yeah, seems about right."

Columbo (Columbo) "A shrewd but inelegant blue-collar homicide detective whose trademarks include his shambling manner, rumpled beige raincoat, cigar and off-putting, relentless investigative approach. Columbo was the master of perp sweating. Though he generally settles on his horse from the outset, he never lets on, instead worming his way into their confidence via fawning adulation, begging their assistance as he "solves" the case. Usually he forces them to weave a huge web of lies until he can finally pull the thread — justified because he's always right. Without letting on that he suspects the perp, he'd have long, seemingly innocuous conversations with the murderer who would get more and more frustrated as they tried to get this annoying man to go away, and thus already be off-balance when the topic turned to holes in their cover-up. Columbo's favorite move was seeming to leave once the suspect thought they'd thrown him off the scent, then turning around and adding "Just one more thing," knocking them on their heels. He's overly nice to people in a bloodhound sort of way; he convinces people that he's just a country bumpkin more interested in whatever 'hat' the villain wears than solving the crime, only to reveal in the end a cold detachment and clinical mind that the bumpkin persona allowed free rein. He plays with the feelings of the criminals, making them like him (more often than not) or at least pity him and drop their guard, or he pushes them subtly and continuously to the point where they break. He attributes his success to merely working harder, thinking longer, and looking closer than anyone else would. However, Columbo has solved every case put before him onscreen (he sometimes claims that he only solves about a third total, but this could well be part of the humility act) and hasn't gotten his man only once — in which case the perp was dying anyway. In true classic mystery fashion, each episode wraps up with the Lieutenant confronting his prey with his train of deduction, culminating in the vital clue; the perp may not confess, but they know, and the viewer knows, they have been beaten. He also possesses an encyclopedic knowledge on some subjects, which he usually hides, and has explained to colleagues that his wife believes there is "something wrong" with him."