#my friends and their nefarious plots

[bapzap]

i keep getting sent the same video that i cannot resist the urge to watch every time its on my screen. i think it's spawning something in my brainwaves.

[imflyingfish]

The fact i literally just drew this before coming onto tumblr

jokes with a small audience

[tahbhie]

The Act of Writing Psychotic Characters 

Part 1: Attention vs Intention

It's been a while since I received this request, and I ensured I took my time with the thoughts, evaluation, and analysis. This topic will be covered in three parts, so here's the first.

Before we proceed, please note that I am not a psychiatrist, psychologist, or any professional in that field. This is just an insight into how this kind of concept can fit into your novels.

Okay, let's begin.

The Attention vs Intention part of this topic will discuss two ways of portraying these type of characters in scenes. 

First, you need to understand that psychotic characters aren't psychotic based solely on their speeches or actions. If that's all you have in mind before approaching a story, you might leave a huge gap in the execution.

Rather, it's how they feel—the desire to satisfy their current emotions.

They have drives and motives, but most especially beliefs which, in most cases, are hardly understandable by other people. It's wrong and unacceptable by society, but to them, they wouldn't do it any differently.

That's why most psychotic characters have no remorse. You simply can't apologize or feel sorry if you don't 'believe' that you're in the wrong.

➜ Attention Psychosis

Psychotic characters whose main purpose in a story is limited to presence (i.e., showing up in scenes and visibly serving the role of a psychotic character) are attention psychotics. You don't flesh out their backstory or why they are who they are.

Their drives and motives aren't talked about enough to the point of justification. Readers hardly care about them, but the action they bring to the scene creates a rich narrative with the purpose of psychosis.

In summary, their role is minor. We see such cases in movies like The Babysitter.

Let's agree that none of the cult characters in that movie are exactly sane, as their main aim is to end their victims’ lives in the sickest ways possible. However, there's a certain character, Max, who simply enjoys the idea of "killing and seeing people bleed."

That has exceeded the central idea of being a cultist who gets involved in blood sacrifice to achieve their 'dream life' like the rest of the characters. It's now something more and different.

Something that has to do with homicidal ideation.

Max worked in a diner where he dealt with people that annoyed him so greatly that he wanted to kill them. So he got the opportunity to join a cult and do just that.

It was plain clear this guy had something else going on for him, but throughout the movie, his character had no special attention or even a peek into his thoughts. Although, it still worried the audience. Job done.

➜ Intention Psychosis

When a story is centered around a character's mental state, their motives, drives, beliefs, actions, and the story actually unfolds by going deeper into this concept, you have intention psychosis.

If not entirely, at least mostly, it defines the entire plot surrounding that character. People get to understand why they are who they are, their mode of action, what drives them, and even a peek into how they perceive the world around them.

Such scenarios are seen in movies like The Joker and Pyramid game (Korea). The audience gets a glimpse into their overall life and understands at least to an extent why they are the way they are.

Their beliefs get twisted for certain reasons, and there was just no stopping them. Here the characters were more than a presence; they were a central core.

In the movie Joker, we watched Arthur’s impoverished life unfold, with every event and incident worsening his condition further.

Baek Ha-rin in Pyramid Game literally created an entire game system to watch a student, who happened to be her old friend, suffer both physically and mentally. She went to great lengths to carry out this nefarious act under the guise of the game. Although this movie encompassed more than just this storyline, it was hard to ignore the unhealthy drive and actions of the young lady with an innocent face.

Before incorporating a psychotic character in your novel, determine their form of portrayal and appearance in the overall story. Are they going to serve as an attention psychotic or an intention psychotic?

Inspired by @sothera

Stay tuned for the next part!

۝ Before you go! ۝

My Characters and I is an extensive one-on-one coaching session designed to create characters that leap off the pages and become best friends with your readers.

What's a great story without remarkable characters? Spots are filling up fast, so grab yours now and get ahead of millions of writers out there.

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[mymessyfandomlibrary]

The Hand That Feeds

Featuring; Sevika x AFAB!Reader

Rating; 18+

Other Notes; Mutual pining, strangers to kinda-friends to 'yeah, we fuckin' -> Porn with plot. This was a gift that I wrote for a friend's birthday. I already shared it with them and got good feedback, so, I'm unleashing it to Tumblr.

Content Warnings; Smut, reader is AFAB, if you don't like the nickname 'princess' my condolences. Smut won't be until the second NSFW banner.

Word Count; 3.3K

Link to Masterlist

You have a tradition. 

Every new moon you would sneak out of your aunt’s residence — she was a kind lady and took you in and gave you free reign — and travel across the river into Zaun.

Yet, despite what others may have thought at your regular travels, it wasn’t for thrill seeking or for nefarious activities. Part of it was out of sheer boredom, as Pilotver, while being the city of progress, was also a city of bureaucratic stillness and policy. A dreadful place when you needed a bit of chaos and authenticity.

Which is how you found yourself in The Lanes time and time again. But it wasn’t purely out of sheer boredom and wanderlust that you kept on coming back into the Undercity. 

While many people had their own interests at the forefront — both in Piltover and in Zaun — you mainly came to help; bringing in fresh food. Bread, fresh vegetables and fruit, and cured meats. You used the bit of wealth that you had left from your family to give to others less fortunate. To those that had no one else to turn to. 

You had been doing this long enough that you knew familiar faces and even some names. And tonight was no different in that regard.

You may not be from Zaun, but you have been to The Lanes enough to also recognize people who stuck in the background, watching.

For the past five months, a woman always stayed in the background, leaning outside of The Last Drop. She never approached you, but when your eyes crossed paths, you knew that she had been watching you give food to those that you could.

The past five months when you had come into the city she had only watched, assessing what you were doing. Seeing if it was for some ulterior motive. 

Was the food spoiled? No. 

Was it poisoned or traced with something? Also no. 

As far as she could see and from the information that the people gave her about you, you did this for no other reason than you wanted to. And Sevika knew from when she first saw you that you weren’t from the undercity — there wasn’t the same edge that the people here had, you were sweet.

You were giving food out and this time she approached you. The dim lighting from the flickering neon signs reflected on her metal arm, catching your eye. Giving a little boy enough food for the day — as giving them too much would make them a target for theft — you turned to the newcomer.

She didn’t say anything, just giving you a once over, still assessing you.

“So,” she cocked her chin to the side a bit, talking down at you in a guarded yet curious tone, “how long have you been doing this for, topsider?”

Topsider.

You knew that you didn’t really fit in in The Lanes, but most people didn’t give you any trouble, just giving you a side glance before minding their own business.

A small smile, born out of the expected politeness of Piltover, graced your face. “Years? It’s hard to say.”

Sevika quirked her brow, “Why?”

“Why not,” you answered back.

Sevika’s mouth twitched in both amusement but also annoyed at the answer. Amused because you said it genuinely, as she was expecting a bit of sass and entitlement. Annoyed that you seemingly had no ulterior motives.

“Alright then.” Sevika just stood there for a moment, and you resisted the urge to shuffle as she continued to assess and try to come to a conclusion. Your eyes once again cross paths and she turns back and goes into The Last Drop again, leaving you alone.

Strange.

You were back in The Lanes and the sack of food had been emptied, all of it being handed out.

Ever since the woman with the metal arm had been keeping an eye on you there were fewer people who tried to push you around. It could also be the large visible knife that you kept strapped to your thigh, but having her presence around also kept people with ill intentions away, letting you be able to help the people you needed to and wanted it.

She was at her usual spot, standing by the door of the pub. Watching. 

It has become a part of your routine. You had come to expect her to be there. Even though you didn’t even know her name, she had become a comforting presence in the background, like she was watching your back.

She wasn’t there tonight though.

No one had tried anything, as the knife was good enough deterrence for now, but it felt off without her there.

Placing the empty bag in your personal satchel you took the time to explore The Lanes. This was the original reason why you came into the undercity, but upon seeing how much worse the conditions here were, you sought to try and help where you could. People were just trying to survive and make ends meet.

“There’s a fight–” a guy bumps into you and keeps on walking, talking to his companion.

Around the bend you could hear a commotion, and curiosity got the better of you and you followed the noise.

There was a fight in full bloom, and the woman that you had expected to be silently watching you was in the heart of it. The fight was reaching its end though, both parties looking worse for wear, but the guy she was fighting was way worse off. The thing about having a metal arm is that it does a lot of damage to whoever it hits, and Sevika may have had some of her blood on her, but most of it was from the other guy.

He hit the ground, unconscious, and Sevika crouched down and whispered something in his ear before getting back up and walking away, but not before she saw you in the crowd. She paused for a second before continuing on, walking away from you. She had changed direction, like she was avoiding you. Going against your better judgement, you followed her, going into a dimly lit pub and looking through the sea of faces before you spotted her at the bar, ordering something.

You don’t know her. Why are you doing this? This is a stupid thing to do— 

You sat down next to her and she gave you a sideways glance.

She had a cut on her face and a bloody nose. There was definitely going to be a large bruise on her arm by tomorrow. And despite being just in a fight and looking worse for wear, she was taking a long drink like this was nothing. But it probably is nothing to her.

This was also the closest that you had gotten to her, and despite her being beat up and the shit lighting in the pub, she was a very — pretty isn’t the right word, she was more than that — handsome woman.

“What are you doing,” she asked, slightly turning her head so she could properly look at you.

“You’re hurt,” and I wanted to make sure that you’re okay. But you don’t add that. You two don’t know each other. You aren’t friends. Hell, you don’t even know her name!

Sevika huffs, amused. “You saw the other guy.”

You had. “Still.”

She puts down her drink and fully turns to you, leaning forward a bit. “Listen, sweetheart, I can handle myself.”

Sweetheart. The nickname, while meant to be demeaning, made you … you didn’t know what it did, but you liked it.

She leans back, pays for her drink and leaves the pub, leaving you alone.

Sevika was back to standing guard over you. She had picked it up after hearing the silent murmurs about a topsider frequenting The Lanes.

In the months that she’s been watching — far longer than you had started noticing her — she knew a few things.

You always visited during the nights of the new moon, using the darkness as a cover.

You carried a large knife on your thigh. You never had to use it, since people knew she was keeping watch, but she saw how you would twirl it around when bored — it wasn’t just for show.

You were kind. She may not know your name, but she mentally called you Sweetheart. It seemed fitting.

And a new forth thing: you apparently made it a habit to be in the same places that she frequents when you really ought not to.

The fight had been by accident, but she hadn’t expected you to follow her into a pub. 

Then again when she was making rounds — you had crossed paths with her and you gave her a nod before continuing on.

Once when she was coming out of the brothel that she frequents when pent up — something that was becoming more often as of late. You didn’t say anything, but you did walk past faster than usual, and Sevika felt a tinge of disappointment.

She had come to expect you. As much as she was an expected presence in your routine, you had become one in hers.

Tonight was the new moon, and Sevika was standing where she typically did. Waiting for you.

But you don’t show up.

Some of the regular people ask her where you are, as whenever Sevika is watching guard, you aren’t far behind. But she didn’t know. She didn’t like that she didn’t know where you were. It lingered in the back of her mind the next night.

This time you do show up, and when the last bit of food gets handed out she walks towards you, determined.

“Where were you last night?”

You turn around, not expecting her to really take notice that you were missing last night, but also she noticed. 

“There was a blockade last night. The city is on high alert, so I couldn’t cross last night,” you answer. 

It was true. Due to recent events, Piltover was on high alert. You couldn’t have crossed, not without suspicion or your monthly visits coming to light, so you decided to wait it out.

Sevika runs her tongue across her teeth, trying to think of something to say, but all that she knows is that she’s relieved to see you. She accepts your answer though, giving you a grunt.

You both stand there for a moment, as if waiting to see who would say something first. Who would break the slightly awkward tension. Hell, it was worse than the time you had bumped into her after she came out of a brothel — that was awkward.

You lick your lips, “Did something happen last night? When I was gone?”

No, nothing happened. “No. People just missed you.” I missed you.

Sevika caught the motion of your mouth and she also noted your appearance. She had always thought you were pretty, hell, beautiful, but she never made a move. Why, though? 

She was a cautious woman, especially with those she let close. “Be careful, sweetheart.”

There’s that name again. This time you felt something warm in your chest, but she had already walked away.

You had finally learned your mystery woman’s name. Sevika. It had been several months — a year to be exact, but like you were keeping track of every time you saw her (you were) — and you finally knew her name from asking one of the bartenders at The Last Drop.

You were standing in her usual spot. You were early, the sun just starting to set, and Sevika was not expecting for you to be waiting for her.

“We need to talk,” you said, getting up from where you were leaning.

Sevika crossed her arms, not expecting the bold move. “About what?”

You walked over to a more private area, a back alley, “You keep watch over me. You have been for a while. Why?”

Ah, you finally asked the question that Sevika had been asking herself. Now, she could be honest about it — which would shed light that she had taken an interest from the rumours and then taken an actual interest in you — or she could keep it simple. Uncomplicated. 

And then she remembers your answer to her question all those months back when you had first talked. “Why not?”

You pause, looking at her. You hadn’t expected that answer. You hadn’t expected her to be giving you an intense longing look that screamed more than just wanting to talk. 

Fuck it.

You stepped forward and did something that you’ve wanted to do for months, placing your mouth onto hers.

And Sevika’s mouth slotted against yours, reciprocating the kiss you initiated. Once given the permission, she threw caution to the wind, finally doing what she had also been wanting. The reason why she was so pent up. You. 

She ran her tongue across your lip, asking for silent permission to enter your mouth and once you did, your tongues moved against each other and she groaned into the heated kiss before breaking away. Her eyes were simmering with want, and like hell she was going to continue what you started in a dank alley.

“Didn’t know you felt that way, sweetheart,” she huffed, breath hot against your ear, making the hair on the back of neck prickle in a pleasant way.

You groaned when she pulled back. You had finally started to get what you wanted only for her to pull away. “And you feel the same way.”

It wasn’t a question. You knew. It was damn telling the way that she took over and led the kiss that she wanted you the same way you wanted her.

Sevika hums at your answer, her hand playing with the ends of your hair gently, “Do I?” 

She usually wasn’t a tease, but she enjoyed seeing your reactions, wanting to hear you say the words. “What do you want, sweetheart?” She asked, nearly purring.

This woman will be the death of me.

You place yourself to where one of her legs was in between yours, “You.”

Sevika ground her leg into your core, sending some much needed friction to where you wanted her. “You’ll have to wait for a minute, princess.”

Like hell she was going to ravish you here, so picking you up, she went to a better place, using one of the back doors to get into one of the private rooms of the pub where no one would intrude — thankfully this one had a bed. 

Once the door is locked, you’re both back to being on each other. Hot mouths clashing. And then the back of your knees were hitting the mattress.

You sat down, bringing Sevika with you, and she began kissing down your neck, leaving you wanting more. 

A thought came into her mind, and she left a rather sharp nip on the space between your neck and shoulder, her thigh slipping between yours and flipping your positions to where you straddled her thigh. “Ride it, sweetheart.” 

The timbre of her voice made you shudder and a pool of heat to form again at your core. You began to grind yourself against her thigh, annoyed that you were both clothed but wanting some sort of release. “Clothes,” you mutter, trying to control how desperate you were for her, “off.”

Sevika chuckled, amused, but obliged, taking off both of your clothes — again, leaving hot kisses on your shoulder. Once her damned pants were off, you began grinding on her again, and she could feel how wet you were and she grinned.

She could tell that you wouldn’t be able to get off just with that, but you were putting on a good show for her. “You’re doing so good, baby. You feel so wet. Fuck.” She groaned, popping one of your nipples in her mouth, and rolling the other in her mouth.

You keen, arching into her touch, wanting more. While the friction from her muscular thigh was delicious you needed more. “Sev, I –” you slightly push her head down, silently asking for her to go down on you.

Sevika put her hands on your hips and dragged you up towards her mouth, “I know.” And she placed a kiss to your inner thigh before tracing your cunt with her tongue, taking your clit into her mouth.

“Fuck,” you moan, finally getting the friction you so badly wanted. Your hands tangling in her hair for something to hold on and she groaned, the vibrations just adding to your pleasure.

Slowly, Sevika added a finger into your cunt, probing until you arched when she found your g-spot. She could tell that you weren’t sitting so she nipped your clit when she felt you hovering, “Sit.”

Once you put your full weight on her face she hummed, satisfied, and added another finger to reward you, putting extra pressure there. 

With her fingers going in and out of your cunt and her tongue tracing your clit, you were reaching your climax, feeling your thighs clench up when Sevika removes her fingers and slows down on your clit, delaying it.

“W-why did you stop?”

Sevika hummed, taking the fingers that were once in you into her mouth, cleaning them off. “I didn’t.” And she moved you higher up so that her tongue was now in you and her nose ground into your clit.

She loved seeing you like this, fucked out on her fingers and her tongue, and if her tongue wasn’t doing the most mouthwatering movements in you, she would be telling you how gorgeous you were. Praising you and your body — mind you, she fell for you for how you treated others first. 

You grabbed for her hand, the one that was just in you a moment ago and placed it on your neck, and Sevika carefully squeezed, choking you in the right way. “You’re doing so good, princess.”

You were reaching your high again, and Sevika was not slowing down, if anything, feeling the way that your thighs tensed on her face made her push forward. The slight pressure on my airway made you melt in her hands, and did a particularly mean nip to your clit before continuing eating you out. You were sweating by now, and moaning into her touch.

“Are you going to cum for me, baby?” She groaned, and added a bit of pressure to your lower stomach, her tongue going in deep. 

Tugging a bit more harshly at her scalp you felt your breathing hitch, your eyes roll back, and you shuddered as your high finally came.

Sevika didn’t ease up, instead taking the hand that was on your neck back down to your cunt, adding three fingers inside you this time as her tongue continued on your clit. That move during your climax and the stretch alongside the pressure on your lower stomach had you seeing white and Sevika groaned as she felt you release.

You whined a bit as Sevika slowed down her movements, sensitive from your climax, working you down from it. 

Giving your inner thigh a kiss, she laid you down next to her on the bed, before getting up and grabbing a warm damp cloth to clean you up with, even though your release was still on her face. She licked it off of her lips and dragged some down from her cheeks to her mouth before using the same cloth to clean her face and thigh, laying back down next to you.

She placed a hand on your face, tracing the planes of it.

You snaked your hand downward, but Sevika stopped you, bringing your hand back up, “You don’t worry about that.”

“I want to make you feel good,” you breathed, annoyed that she had stopped your wandering hands.

Sevika traced her tongue over her lip, looking at you, “You did.”

Oh. Even though she had literally just eaten you out within an inch of your life, hearing her say that she was satisfied just by giving you pleasure made you clench your thighs. 

That movement didn’t go unnoticed, “Mmm, you’re still sensitive, sweetheart.” Her hand travelled down your body, promising another round once you weren’t so sensitive, although she wouldn’t mind seeing you cry from it.

[heliads]

Hey babe, if you're still taking requests, can I request something for Harry Hook from descendants? It takes place in an AU where basically all the kids are "chosen" to be parts of fairytales. (Think Ever After High mixed with School for Good and Evil). This world is complete with everything you see in disney movies with epic fights and songs. Heroes get love ballads and villains get traditional villain songs. Reader and Harry are friends (with feelings) on the isle and get chosen for a story, and are both super excited because they think they'll both be villains together. So imagine their surprise when they get their first song together and it sounds an awful lot like a love song.

This AU has been living in my head for a long time tbh but I have no writing skills T-T. Feel free to ignore it this is not your style or I accidentally sent this after requests closed.

'one story leads to another' - harry hook

masterlist

On the Isle of the Lost, a story is everything. Receiving a good story catapults a promising villain into a fantastic life of infamy, but a lackluster story seals your fate forever to menial satisfaction alone. Henchmen, not gods. Lackeys and thugs, never the criminal boss in charge.

Then again, a worse fate still could befall you. Many would-be villains go their whole lives without receiving a story. They’re not meant for everyone, at all, even if they mean the difference between a true life or a false existence. You can’t fathom training your whole life just to go without, but it’s the reality for many on your island. Even the deck swabbers get to go on exciting adventures with the great pirates of the sea, and even the lowliest prison guard will still live in a cursed palace.

The story controls your life, both literally and figuratively. Once you’re given a story, you’ll have no choice but to follow it out, even if it ends with your death. Then again, a story isn’t over in a matter of days. It’ll shape your life for decades. Even if the main plot is over, you’ll still be someone, and maybe you’ll feature in other people’s stories, too. There’s no way to make it without a story.

That’s why you’ve been throwing yourself into the pursuit of becoming the main character of your own story. You’ve perfected the arts of all things villain– sword fights that always end with you pulling a secret dagger out of a sleeve to tip the scales in your favor, maniacal laughter, elaborate plotting. You could scheme in your sleep or double-cross a traitor with your hands tied behind your back. Although it’s been a long time in the making, everyone on the Isle can admit that you’re the best of the best, and that a story surely has to be coming your way.

The problem, then, is attracting one. Although no rules are set in stone, there are expectations for how one’s story will come about. There will be an inciting event, of course, and then the songs will begin to appear in your head, the footwork and movements placed in your memories without a second thought. You’ll know you’re in the story, and then your life will change forever.

You’ve already seen one play out with some of your closest friends. Mal, one of your best friends since you were kids, got to live out her nefarious dreams, although even she didn’t see the twist coming in her story. Then again, becoming queen of Auradon is certainly a fine trophy for the child of a villain, even if a true marriage of love isn’t quite the way anyone expected her to steal the crown.

Mal has assured you many times over that your story will be coming too, it has to. There’s no way the magic would skip over you, not when you’ve dedicated so much of your life to being the perfect villain for any role. You can lie and cheat and maim with the best of them, surely you’re shaping up to be the arch nemesis in some hero’s grand journey? Your story will be coming your way. Surely. Surely.

And then, all of a sudden, it does. You feel it like a puppet knows its strings. All of a sudden, you have a purpose that you didn’t before. Your feet carry you out of the training yard and out into the sprawling mess of streets that makes up the Isle of the Lost. Your heart soars, and you take to the roofline, staring out at the world before you. It’s yours, all yours, and you know it’s true, so you sing it. The words come to you in a flash, perfect rhymes curling around your tongue as if they’d been there all your life. 

This is what it feels like to be in a story, then. It feels right, more right than anything you’ve known before. Easier than breathing. Simpler than hoping that something like this would come your way, and at last, it has. Nothing could make your flinty heart more proud.

The song ends, and you can hear a ghost of a distant chorus fading out as you make your way back to the ground once more. Your stroll is casual, but the steps are definitely in a specific direction. The last notes fade from the air, your feet stop firmly in place, and you realize that you’re not facing down a potential heist or daring escape but the end of the dock leading into the sea. Directly in front of you lies a pirate ship. 

At first, you’re thrilled– an adventure on the high seas would be fantastic. You’re friends with many of the pirates, even if you haven’t yet gotten a chance to test your fortitude against seasickness before. You cast your mind back to the words you’d just sung, trying to remember if you’d chorused anything about an exciting voyage ahead, or maybe the possibility of sunken treasure.

Instead, your heart sinks as you realize you were talking about exploring what was right in front of you. More specifically, someone right in front of you. And, as you stare with no small amount of trepidation at the pirate ship in front of you, you discover that someone else seems to be in a similar situation as you. Someone who’s just stopped singing a very similar song, who’s standing directly opposite you as if placed there by some immortal hand. Someone you know already.

Someone like Harry Hook.

A belated understanding is beginning to nestle itself between your ribs like a knife in the heart. No, this can’t be. You refuse to believe it. Still, when Harry is the first one to make a move, and walks briskly down the gangplank to stand in front of you, and says in an increasingly cavalier tone, “So, you’ve got your story started too, haven’t you?”

“Harry,” you say weakly. “I didn’t realize that you’d also gotten a song.”

“More than a song,” he says grimly. “I’ve got the whole story.”

You stare at him. “You know how it’s going to end?”

Harry had been doing his best to keep his gaze firmly pinioned on a nearby wall, but his eyes flicker briefly, traitorously, over to you when you pose the question. They snap back immediately, though. For a pirate, he’s never been the best liar, although he tends to make up for it with excellent swordsmanship. “No one knows how their story is going to end until they follow it through.”

You narrow your eyes crossly at him. “But you have a guess, don’t you? Spit it out, Hook. I don’t have all day.”

“Actually,” Harry contradicts, seeming to take great joy in the opportunity to be bothersome, “you do have all day. You’re a part of a story now, love. Your whole life is going to be wherever the wind takes you.”

You roll your eyes. “Thanks, Harry. Very helpful. Don’t try to dodge the question, though. You know how this is going to end, right?”

He sighs. “I have an inkling. Very vague. Probably untrustworthy.”

“All pirates are untrustworthy,” you remind him.

He grins broadly, sharklike. “And all children of villains are saints like you, of course.” He groans at your exasperated expression. “Fine, fine. Although I’d suggest you get better at pretending you like playing my little games if you’d like to keep this up.”

Your eyes widen. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve guessed it already, haven’t you?” Harry says testily. “Think about the songs, Y/N. The melody. That wasn’t a villainous monologue, not even your basic pledge for debauchery and ruin. That was a love song.”

You shake your head frantically. “No, Harry. That was so not right. What is that supposed to mean?”

“Well,” Harry says slowly, “I ‘spose it means we’re meant to fall in love.”

You draw back so quickly that you think you’ve insulted him. “No. Absolutely not. No offense, Harry, but I don’t want to fall in love with you.”

“I’ll try not to let it go to my head,” he says dryly.

You wave a hand dismissively. “It’s not about you, I swear. It’s just– this was supposed to be my story, you know? My whole life. I was supposed to have a glorious adventure, or engage in fantastic battles, but I get one chance at a story and it’s about falling in love? No way. I won’t accept this.”

“You’re acting like I enjoy this too,” Harry retorts. “Quite the contrary, sweetheart. You’re not the only one who’s been dreaming about their story for ages. How do you reckon I’m meant to tell my father that I got a love story? He’d laugh at me so hard he’d probably stop getting scared of that crocodile once and for all. I’m just as unhappy with this as you are, but I’m willing to do something about it.”

You eye him cautiously. “Like what?”

“Let’s play along,” he suggests, and when you look like you’re going to snap at him, he raises his hands defensively and adds hastily, “I know, I know, but hear me out, will you? The faster we get things going, the sooner this ends. You know as well as I do that characters from other stories can take part in other ones, too. ‘Sides, maybe this one isn’t just a love story. Maybe we do travel somewhere exciting, we just don’t know it yet. You don’t have to fall in love with me, alright? We can pretend. We’ll sing our songs, then do whatever we want with our hearts. Me, I’m planning to show my strength by carving mine out of my chest and wearing it as a necklace. It would make a pretty pendant, I wager. Plus, all the crew would be awestruck over it.”

You can’t help but laugh at his words. “Harry, if you cut your heart out, you’d die. If you want a necklace like that, use one of your enemies’ organs.”

He nods appreciatively. “That might work better, I think.” Then, eyeing you apprehensively, “So, does that mean you’re willing to do it? To play along with our story?”

You sigh. “I think it does. It’s not like we have any choice, do we?”

Harry pulls a face. “A girl is cosmically destined to fall in love with me, and in the heat of the moment of her confession, she says it’s because she doesn’t have any choice. Be still, my heart.”

This makes you smile. “You know it’s not personal, Harry. We’ve been friends for ages, I should hope you know when I’m teasing.”

“And I should hope the same,” he says with mock solemnity, although his faux stony demeanor cracks with a wide grin within moments.

You hold out your hand for him to shake. “To falling in love?”

“To falling in love,” he says, and shakes it. So the story begins.

You’re not going to say that it’s difficult, pretending to be in love with Harry Hook. You’ve never had an issue with his company; he’s one of your oldest friends, all of the villain kids on or around the Isle of the Lost have come in contact with each other before, and you and Harry just so happened to cross paths more than a few times. In fact, you’d go so far as to say that if you were forced to sing love songs with any of the villainous children on this island, Harry would be your preferred choice.

And– the problem with that, see, is that it makes this whole thing sound like something it isn’t. You’re not in love with Harry, even if your story seems designed to make you think otherwise. You know how you felt about him before the story began, and a couple of ditties about finding something special in a person you previously overlooked isn’t going to change anything. Harry is your friend. Nothing more than a potential ally.

But then the story takes you two away from the island for a spell, the two of you co-captaining a small sailing vessel by yourselves in search of a magical talisman that would have the power to make every one of your days enchanting. You had assumed it would be a talisman of some sort, that is; yet when the two of you arrived at the hiding place of this supposed treasure and split up to each pursue one length of a split crossroads, your paths looped around so you came face to face with each other again. 

No artifacts, no charms. Just Harry almost stumbling into you, having to wrap one arm around your waist so you don’t fall, his chest rising and falling rapidly as if he’d been running in an attempt to beat your time. You’d chastise him for it were it not for the fact that you were sprinting, too. You wait for Harry to let you go, but he doesn’t, and instead leans closer, so close you can feel his breath hot on your cheek, and then–

You pull away quickly. Harry looks at you like a wounded dog, which makes you feel sick to your stomach. “No,” you say through gritted teeth. “This isn’t– this isn’t us. It’s the story.”

“Is it really just the story?” Harry asks you.

“Yes,” you say, refusing to consider any other option for a second. “You didn’t love me before it started. The magic is messing with our minds. This isn’t real, Harry.”

He starts slowly walking towards you, and afraid you’ll make a mistake you’ll regret once the story ends, you back up in turn, up until the point when your back hits a wall and you can go no further. Harry, however, has nothing in his way but you, and there is nothing to stop him from closing the gap between you once again.

“Tell me it’s not real,” he says lowly.

“It’s not real,” you repeat.

His hand rises to your chin, tilting it up so you have to look in his eyes. He drinks in the sight of you like he’s been marooned alone for days, like salt water has been his only benediction for as long as he can remember. “Tell me,” he says again.

“It’s not,” you insist, but your conviction is gone, drifted away from you on uncertain tides. “It’s the magic. Not us.”

“Not us?” He asks, and kisses you. Slowly, terribly slowly, he kisses you, and in between silently begging him to move faster, do more, you think about all the times you’ve been under a spell in the past, and how this feels nothing like that. Not at all. Whenever you’re under an enchantment, some small part of you knows it’s wrong, giving you just enough hope that you might be able to fight free.

When you kiss Harry, though, you don’t want him to stop. Not at all. Every single particle in your body is beating along to the same erratic pulse through your veins, the one that leans into his touch, reaching for the front of his salt-stained shirt to pull him ever closer to you. If this is your story, you don’t ever want it to end. If there is a writer out there somewhere, feverishly scribbling out your chapters, you hope they never cease, that every one of their movements until the day they die and then past that will bring you more moments with Harry, moments just like this one in which you never have to let him go.

“It’s not just the story,” you tell him amidst ragged breaths when he finally breaks away.

“No?” Harry asks, one brow quirked. Usually, he’d never pass up the chance to gloat, but he looks sorely disheveled, and he can’t take his eyes off of your kissed lips long enough to give him the chance to revel in his victory like he normally would.

Just in case, though, you distract him from the triumph by kissing him again. Somewhere in the surrounding uncharted territory, the waves crash against the shore, the seabirds wheel and sing on the marine breezes, and you find the magic in the one boy who has always been there for you, and always will be, even after your story ends. That is the magic of love, you suppose. Adventures come to a close. Battles are won, heists are accomplished, but what you and Harry share will go on forever. A fitting legacy for the best two villains who ever lived.

[darcydarlingdabbles]

Meadows and Moonlight

Astarion x F!Tav(Est) + Halsin ~4.7k

After the epilogue party, Astarion and Tav finally take Halsin up on his proposition.

Smut. This is shameless smut. Two elves and a tiefling doing it the woods. Soft Dom!Astarion. More submissive Halsin.

//This is a little rough and unedited. Life said, that's a nice mental health ya had, would be a shame if something happened to it...but I think this helped me through it. Maybe XD// ✿⊹₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✩ ₊⁺⋆☽⋆⁺₊⊹ ✿

The warmth of the crackling campfire was a welcome and familiar embrace as Tav scanned the faces around her.

Their companions, their friends, looking better than they ever had, celebrating their victory nearly half a year ago. Wyll, Gale, Shadowheart all looking so content—even Lae’zel had the edge of a smile to her sharp features.

Though they weren’t all gathered around the fire.

Tav caught movement in her peripheral vision, drawn over to a secluded corner, where Astarion was murmuring intently to Halsin.

The hulking druid’s brow furrowed as the pale rouge bent his ear, like the devil on his shoulder. But as Tav found her way over to the elves, they both pulled back with smiles on their faces.

“Darling, were your point little ears burning?” Her vampire said, with a smirk he hid behind his own wine goblet.

“Maybe a little,” The tiefling said, with a flick of her tail. “What nefarious plots are you two cooking up over here?”

Astarion waved a hand dismissively. “Nothing so exciting, I’m afraid. Just catching up.” 

Halsin gave the man a bemused expression, but he leaned forward to Tav. “I was just remarking to Astarion how vibrant and...energetic you two seem together these days. That aura of yours could blot out a full moon on a cloudless night.”

Tav nearly choked on her wine, shooting Astarion an accusatory look. He held up his hands defensively, but there was no remorse on his tongue.

“Now dear, don’t give me that look. You know how Halsin is—he’s just naturally attuned to those sorts of...energies.” His voice dropped to a sultry purr on the last word.

Halsin chuckled, his voice warm and rich. “Indeed, the two of you simply radiate...primal passion.” His deep gaze met hers. “Any being would be lucky to revel in such a profound bond.”

Tav’s eyebrows shot up. That…was almost subtle for the wood elf.

Astarion let out a low laugh beside her. “Why Halsin, I thought you’d never ask.” 

Her surprise redoubled as she watched this new boldness in her partner. He reached out, placing a hand brazenly on the druid’s thick, muscular arm.

But Astarion wasn’t putting on one of his cavalier acts this time. 

His interest was undisguised, unvarnished desire writ plainly across his aristocratic features as he appraised Halsin with open want.

“What do you say, my love?” Excitement and curiosity danced in those piercing red eyes.

The druid said nothing, but she could feel him waiting on her answer with baited breath.

Tav felt a shiver of anticipation course through her. Astarion wanted this—wanted Halsin. And from the way the burly elf’s gaze roved appreciatively over them both, the interest was utterly mutual.

She found herself unable to tear her eyes away, imagining what might unfold when this raucous celebration finally dispersed.

Picturing Astarion’s cool confidence melting into ardor, his lithe form entangled with Halsin’s powerful frame. 

The thought sent a delicious shiver of arousal through her core.

“Yes, I say yes.” Tav grinned as Astarion took her arm in his.

“Then, I am even more enthusiastic for this party to end.” The vampire said, with a mischievous purr.

✿⊹₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✩ ₊⁺⋆☽⋆⁺₊⊹ ✿

Astarion nipped playfully at Tav's earlobe, causing her to squeal in surprise and stumble into him.

And he tumbled right over into the soft grass, landing with her sprawled across his chest.

“So much for a rogue’s grace.” Tav huffed, pushing herself upright. “You’re not near drunk enough to be unsteady, my love.”

His laughter echoed up to the full moon hung overhead. “Perhaps I’m trying to catch you off-guard, hmm?” the elf smirked, tilting his head as he looked up at her.

Tav pushed herself up onto her knees, making a point of pinning him to the soft meadow as her tail curled around his thigh. “And yet, I’ve caught you.”

Astarion smirked, those red eyes as bright as the sky full of stars above them. And that look, as it always did, drew her close. Wanting to feel his lips on hers once again.

“Have you…?” He hummed, a breath before she could kiss him.

“Have I wha—”

Astarion had Tav on her back before she could finish her question. And she was looking up at him. His blonde curls ethereal in the moonlight that glinted off of his open smile.

The tiefling’s tail curled as arousal coiled in her core.

“Can you smell that, my love?” he murmured against her ear, his voice like velvet. “Your blood sings a different tune when desire courses through you.”

All of Tav’s limbs went still under Astarion. She tilted her head to expose more of her throat with just one of his intoxicating caresses.

He ducked to her neck, filling her with the anticipation of his teeth—when she felt that damn laugh of his instead. “You’re too easy.”

“I am not!” Tav shoved at the vampire’s chest, until he rolled off of her with utter glee.

“Aren’t you just?”

A rustling along the treeline drew their attention before Tav could come up with a response, which was actually a relief for her.

That turned to a thrum of excitement when she saw the hulking frame of Halsin stepping into the silver light.

“The night air carries far more than the fragrance of wildflowers.” He rumbled in his warm voice. “Your scents together are sweeter than honey.”

Tav swallowed thickly against the thrill Halsin’s easy words sent through her.

If they were right, about her scent and how it changed…she wondered how much it had already given away. Were her deepest cravings laid bare? Not only for Astarion’s wicked touch—but the primal pull she felt for the druid.

The vampire’s breath was back along her neck, his voice in her ear. “How deliciously wicked of you, my darling.”

Astarion’s arm slid deftly around Tav’s middle, pulling her back into his chest, nipping at her shoulder.

His playful tone was gone. Replaced with something almost, possessive about the way he held, the way he teased the marks he’d left along her throat just the other night.

Astarion wasn’t taunting anymore. He was showing off.

And she was malleable as clay in his hands.

Halsin’s gaze burned as he drank in the sight. “If…my company remains desired, that is.”

Astarion lifted his head long enough to give an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “You’re as insufferable as this one.” He scoffed, giving Tav a playful squeeze. “I believe we are both still willing…but.”

Tav turned to him, just to see him smirk.

“We play by my rules.” His lips grazed the shell of her pointed ear, making her tail curled. “Won’t we, my sweet?”

Her mouth opened to give a teasing protest, but the implication finally sank into her lust-addled mind. He wanted control.

And she would gladly give it.

“Yes,” she breathed, her voice tinged with a needy rasp. “Whatever you wish, Astarion.”

“So it shall be.” Halsin’s approval was palpable, a low rumbling purr resonating from deep within his chest as he stepped closer to where they were tangled.

In one fluid motion, Halsin shed his clothes and armor, baring his toned, sun-kissed form with shameless ease.

The druid cut an impressive figure in the moonlight—power and grace given form. A bear of man, bound and rounded with muscles. And…blessed with size in another, poignant area. 

Astarion bit back an Elvish curse beside her.

Desire scorched through her veins, but her gaze deferred to her vampire, who surprised her yet again with his reaction.

Astarion snicker, a sly smirk curving his sculpted lips. “I told you,” he said, recalling a previous conversation. Making her eyebrows lift. “Our dear druid would outlaw clothes if he could.”

“It is a crime to cover up the natural beauty of each and every creature.” Halsin stepped closer without an ounce of trepidation. “Especially, of the two before me now.”

“Halsin, is that an invitation to disrobe?” Astarion teased, as he slid from behind Tav. “Subtly isn’t your…strong suit, is it?

The vampire approached the druid with a flourish, his pale fingers splayed over the tanned, broad chest. Drawing that delicious contrast Tav had been craving. Delicate features against the rough and wild.

Her thighs pressed together.

She watched him, the way he shed his clothing, waiting for the mask to slip over his face and make his eyes go distant. 

But, there was none of that. Tav was left marveling at the ease and confidence Astarion exuded. He was a man transformed, free from the bounds imposed and…happy to pursue his desires. 

Astarion’s crimson gaze gleamed on hers, as he leaned up to kiss Halsin.

Their lips met eagerly. Reveling in the taste of each other, tongues exploring and claiming territory. Despite his vampiric strength and power, Astarion appeared wonderfully porcelain next to the broad-shouldered Halsin. Masculine in their own ways that contrasted beautifully. 

Tav needed out of the confines of her clothing.

Astarion’s hand slid over the druid’s face like well-worn leather as he tilted down to the pale elf. The shorter was still up on his toes—when he murmured something to Halsin.

 His arms slipped around the larger man’s neck as, with a laugh of pure delight, he leapt into Halsin’s waiting arms, his lithe legs wrapping around the wood elf’s muscular waist. Halsin caught him easily, strong hands gripping the vampire’s thighs as he pressed Astarion against the rough bark of a nearby tree.

Heat surged through Tav's entire body, her tail curling fully against her back, the sound of want nearly escaping from behind her hand.

Halsin was leaving searing kisses down Astarion’s throat, pink spots blooming along his pale skin—her blood making him flush. Until the druid moved to the side the vamp’s neck that still bore twin marks—

Tav was on her feet, naked, but her tail lashing from side to side. Ready to protect her elf, even from the mountain of a man.

The rogue’s fingers tangled in Halsin’s mane of hair, giving a sharp jerk. Halsin didn’t need more of an explanation. The man just seemed to understand, and his mouth moved from the tender territory of Astarion’s neck.

Lower still he went, peppering kisses along Astarion’s chiseled chest, his toned stomach, until finally, he took Astarion’s aching cock into his mouth. 

Tav watched, transfixed, as Astarion’s head fell back against the tree, his blonde curls over his forehead and clinging to the bark. . His red eyes fluttered closed, but his sounds sweet and understate.

She knew his sounds intimately now. The desperate way he kissed like he never wanted to part, like he was still shocked by the moans that fell unbidden from him when he was truly pleased.

He wasn’t playing it up. He was just…enjoying it.

Halsin was as capable as he boasted, apparently. More than that, he seemed to thoroughly enjoy hollowing his cheeks, sucking to the tip of Astation’s length, and sliding back down him to swallow more. The druid seemed to know, or her vampire had told him, that pleasing Astarion made Tav nearly feral with want.

Desire coursed through her veins like molten lava, pooling low in her belly. Her tail swayed, slow, the tip curling up with an eagerness…to touch, to taste, anything 

As if sensing her need, Astarion’s crimson eyes opened lazily, catching her gaze, and he lifted one of those elegant hands towards her, inviting her closer.

“Darling…” The way his lips parted and showed his fangs—Tav was already closing the distance between them. “You…really must try this mouth of Halsin’s.” 

She could have snorted at his audacity, but still it drue her right in.

Astarion was kissing her as soon as she was within arm’s reach, pulling her in to his side, none too careful with her hips or tail bumping into the massive druid between his legs. Tav lifted her appendage away though, sliding it to just barely curl around her vampire’s thigh, the caress comforting and familiar. 

“I would find great joy in satisfying your desires, should you so wish.” Halsin said, pulling his mouth free enough to do so. “Your body is a work, crafted with nature’s artisan skill. It would be a pleasure to appreciate it.” 

“And you thought I liked to pontificate in bed.” Astarion smirked, pulling Tav into his arms, his pale hands sliding over her heated tiefling skin. 

“I assure you I did not say pontificate.” She huffed as he pushed her back against the sturdy oak.

“No? He cupped her chin, his hand sliding down to her throat. “What was it…monologue then. Like a villain upon the stage, delivering a dying soliloquy?”

Tav opened her mouth to retort, when both men decided to remind her where they were.

Halsin’s large hands grabbed her hips, already making her gasp with the contrast of his warmth to the usual chill of Astarion’s touch. 

Her legs parted around broad shoulders as the druid hoisted her over them with a grin. “Hells—” She gasped, her back pressed against the bark of the same tree as she was lifted. Her grappled for Halsin’s hair, though her tail flung around Astarion’s waist—clinging to him for balance. 

“Relax darling, we’ve got you.” The vampire purred, moving to her side, leaning up to kiss her. Just as the druid’s mouth lapped at her soaking folds. 

Tav groaned, her head titled back until her horns dragged across the tree.

Normally, recently, perhaps she’d been the one doing the most talking. Astarion had his lines, his well practiced charms, but Tav cut right through them. 

But, it was damn hard to focus with Halsin’s tongue lathing at her sex, finding her clit with ease and confidence, though far from the practice and precision of her vampire’s dexterous mouth.

“Ah, my dear, the sight of you in such ecstasy as your essence is devoured... I could easily become accustom to it.” He purred to her, until her chest was so heated the summer air felt chilled against her peaked nipples.

Tav’s nails dug into the tree behind her, just as a deceptively delicate looking hand grabbed her by the horn, tilting her head to him. “All it took was an archdruid, to get you to focus on your pleasure first?” Astarion rumbled low to her. 

Tav couldn’t help but be just a little…defiant. Her vampire was calling the shots, but she could just let her palm just graze the length of him, before the vampire caught her wrist, pinning it to the wood behind her. 

“Ah-ha, not tonight my sweet.” 

Tav blinked at him, with as much focus she could manage as Halsin drew her closer and closer to the edge of her pleasure.

“I want to ravish you, have you be ravished. To have you enjoy all of the attention and affection gift to me.” Astarion confessed, his face gone softer. More sincere. “That is all I want.” 

Tav felt half-wild. Driven to a mad love, body and soul, by this amazing man.

✿⊹₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✩ ₊⁺⋆☽⋆⁺₊⊹ ✿

The moonlight cast pale highlights across Tav's bare skin as Astarion's lips trailed down her neck. His fangs grazed her delicate flesh, eliciting a shiver. "Do as I say, druid," he murmured against her ear, glancing at Halsin with a wicked grin. “Our darling Tav deserves to be pleased.”

Halsin's eyes burned with an animalistic desire, and she could feel his growl rumbling in her trembling thighs.

"Please," Tav breathed, desire coiling hotly in her core.

With a feral snarl, Halsin parted her thighs and his tongue darted out, lapping at her slick folds. Tav gasped, back arching as Astarion captured her lips in a searing kiss, swallowing her moans. His hands roamed freely, tweaking her nipples as Halsin's expert mouth worked her into a frenzy.

Unbridled pleasure crashed over her in waves, each flick of Halsin's talented tongue sending sparks dancing across her nerves. Astarion devoured her cries, his touch fever-hot against her skin. The coil within tightened, tightened until finally, it snapped. She shattered against Halsin's mouth with a primal cry.

As the last tremors faded, Astarion scooped Tav into his arms effortlessly. He carried her into the tall grass, laying her down with utmost tenderness amid the wildflowers.

Tav traced her fingers along Astarion's chest, admiring the way the moonlight caught on the sweat glistening on his skin.

"You two are a vision" Halsin said, a note of awe in his voice.

"You have no idea," Astarion murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to her neck.

Tav shivered at the touch. She let her eyes drift over to Halsin, who was kneeling in the grass next to them. Slick on his lips. His massive cock aching for attention.

“Astarion…?”

“Hmm,” The darkened red eyes took in the sight that was the archdruid on his knees. “Well, I might like to get my mouth on you, Halsin.” Astarion's voice was low, almost a growl.

The wood elf let out a low, throaty chuckle.. "I think that might be a bit much for one mouth," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Then I should help.” Tav said, sliding from Astarion’s hold onto her knees.

He cocked an eyebrow, before giving his assent.

"I've been wanting to do this for a long time," he said, pushing at the druid’s chest. The muscle-bound man fell willingly back onto his heels.

Astarion smiled, his eyes never leaving Tav’s as he lowered his head to Halsin’s lap. Tav watched as he took Halsin’s cock into his mouth, her body trembling with fresh anticipation.

He was…big. Massive. Damn the druid for being right. He tasted of earth and musk and raw want—and Astarion drew Tav to him with a gaze. They knelt in tandem, their attention wholly consumed by Halsin’s aching cock.

Tav lips stretched around Halsin’s tip, greedy as she ever was to suck him down. Her moans hummed against his skin. It his turn to join Tav, watching as Halsin’s face took on a wild obscenity that the vampire couldn’t help but admire. For how open he was.

As they continued their dual ministrations, Astarion saw the flick of Tav’s tail, curling at the small of her back with renewed desire. He spotted the moment her hand snuck between her legs.

Suddenly, Astarion felt a shift in the atmosphere, his sharp eyes catching Tav's hand being gently enveloped by Halsin's larger one.

"May I?" Halsin asked him, his voice carrying a note of respect that Astarion found endearing. The druid was committed to following his rules, especially for such a untamed man.

Astarion gave a nod. He watched as Halsin’s thick fingers replaced Tav's delicate ones as they pressed into her. The sight of her squirming under Halsin’s touch stirred something within Astarion—that made him purr against his mouthful of the druid’s cock.

Tav gave a soft moan, her hand wrapped around the base of Halsin’s length, eyes gone unfocused as he slipped another finger into her. Astarion couldn't help but tease, "Oh my, how ever will you take all of him, when a couple fingers drive you to distraction" His smirk held a hint of challenge.

Halsin simply smiled at Astarion’s remark, his gaze never leaving Tav. “I know a rather ancient magic for such a predicament. ” he responded calmly, his hand never ceasing its efforts to make the tiefling tremble.

“Please…” Her voice quivered, those bright eyes unfocused as she begged him. “Astarion…can I?”

He grinned wickedly in return. “You may.”

✿⊹₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✩ ₊⁺⋆☽⋆⁺₊⊹ ✿

Tav sank down onto the soft grass, her hands and knees buried into the lush carpet. She was soaked from the druid’s mouth, and his fingers, and burning with how empty she felt.

Her eyes still on her lover, as she arched her back, position herself. As she curled her tail off to her side, presenting to hurry the druid along to take her.

Halsin’s large hands caressing her curves, anticipation making her shudder.

The blunt head of his cock pressed against her slit, and the tiefling’s talons pierced into the turf. When he finally sank into her, stretching her, filling her. Tav cried out, the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.

“Just relax, little one.” With one slow thrust, he pushed inside, stretching her deliciously full.

“Are you alright, love?” Astarion asked, concern lacing his voice.

Tav gasped, rocking back against the druid. “It’s…good…fuck, more.” She demanded. 

And she was rewarded with Astarion’s deep chuckle, and more of Halsin’s thick cock. 

“More you shall have.” The druid rumbled.

Fuck, the way he stretched her. She could feel him against every wall, and even a shift of his hips made a mewl come from her bitten lips. 

Reassured, Astarion let out a filthy praise for her, his hand sliding over the arch of her back. Before deft fingers found their way down her belly to play with her clit. 

Tav cried out, back arching as the elves took over every sense. Her tail curled around Astarion’s arm as he played with her.

Halsin set a steady rhythm, driving into her again and again until her cries melted into wordless moans of bliss. The pressure built rapidly until finally she fell apart, climax crashing over her in shattering waves.

“Gorgeous creature.” The druid hummed, his fingers curled into her thigh.

“Careful…” Astarion eased her into the grass, his hand along her trembling thigh. “She’s quite sensitive after she comes.”

Tav was sinking to her belly, worn out, needing a break as Halsin slipped from her.  Astarion He soothed, his cool touch welcomed against her still throbbing sex.

“M’fine Tav panted, her cheek pressed into the soft grass, her usually sharp eyes completely out of focus. “More than fine.” 

The vampire’s eyes went to Halsin as the druid stroked himself with Tav’s slick.

"Is this the usual response from your bedfellows?" Astarion inquired, a hint of admiration slipping into his tone. Tav had rolled onto her side on the grass, a smile on her lips still as she shivered with aftershocks. 

“She did exceedingly well.” Halsin said, with all the warmth they expected from him. “Usually it takes a Nymph’s spell to take what nature has blessed me with.” 

The tiefling chuckled, but the vampire’s brows rose nearly into his hair. “A what? Sexual magic? Halsin…well, actually, I’m not at all surprised.”

“Would you like me to show you?” Halsin’s voice dropped impossibly lower, and he gestured towards the bed of grass. 

Astarion’s eyes darted to hers, but Tav could see the curiosity, and want. She grinned and nodded, as if he needed her permission to have what he already wanted. 

The pale elf moved, fluid as he always was when he crawled over his Tav. A kiss demanded and a kiss given. 

Then, to both Tav and Astarion’s surprise, Halsin leaned forward, his tongue tracing along the vampire’s tight rim of muscle.

Astarion yelped, his eyes flying wide, before melting into the unexpected touch.

Tav leaned up on her elbows, alert, scooting to sit up, to act. ”Astarion?”

“I’m fine.” He shivered. “I’ve never…experienced nymph magic,” he breathed, his voice thick with wonder and delight.

Tav had to make sure. Cupping his cheek until she caught his eyes—his gaze bright, wild, and fully present.

Her fingers curled into his silvery hair. 

Halsin…never lacked enthusasim. Even the push of his tongue dropped Astarion’s head to her lap, his panted breaths across her thighs.

“More?” The druid asked, leaning up from the vampire with a sound of protest from the pale elf’s lips. 

“Oh yes,” Astarion groaned spreading his legs wider in shameless invitation. “Take me, beast.”

He’d been waiting to use that line, she knew it. But that meant he was here, his humor intact as Tav watched Halsin press his hips flush to Astarion’s ass.

✿⊹₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✩ ₊⁺⋆☽⋆⁺₊⊹ ✿

Astarion’s breath caught in his throat as Halsin’s thick length stretched him open, the delicious burn stoking the flames of his desire. He was already shuddering before the druid even moved his hips. 

It wasn’t…his first time recieving. Far from it. He did his best not to let his mind wander back to those times—but he couldn’t help but wish he’d known the spell Halsin had whispered into his skin. The sheer pleasure of the stretch alone. 

He was panting against Tav’s familiar skin, breath playing over her ribs and her chest. If he had enough focus, he’d latched his lips around one her dark nipple—but that would require him being able to focus enough to watch where his teeth landed. 

He must have been still for too long, because he felt the blunt points of her nails slidng through his hair, tugging at him to look up, always making sure he was alright.

His cooled heart was always warmed when she did, even if he pretended to be annoyed. 

“Fuck,” Astarion finally lifted his head, a grin on his lips even as he panted. He pressed his lips to hers. 

He could hear the grin in Halsin’s face as the druid gripped his hips, and slid back slowly from him. 

Anticipation built sublimely in the vampire. And the first powerful thrust was everything he’d craved—he was driven deeper into the cradle of Tav’s thighs, her slick folds caressing his aching cock.

He could feel her shiver under him as each buck of Halsin’s hips rutted them together. 

“Tav…come here,” the vampire barely had to voice his desire against her still shining lips. 

Tav whimpered into his mouth in assent. She slid down his body, hooking her legs along the back of Astarion’s thighs—until he slid easy into her waiting warmth. 

They both groaned at Halsin’s next brutal thrust. 

Tav’s claws skimmed his sweat-slicked shoulders as she wrapped her arms around her vampire. 

Halsin pounded into them both with bestial fervor. The air was thick with the tang of sex and the slick sounds of flesh meeting flesh.

Trapped between them, wonderfully so, Astarion couldn’t think of a word other…than complete.

He drank in Tav’s cries of ecstasy, reveling in her growing desperation.

“That’s it, my love,” he panted against the curve of her neck between fevered kisses. “Let me hear you.”

Her walls clenched around him in response, silken and scorching. Halsin’s wild abandon jostled them both, the spawn taking Tav with as he was taken in turn.

Astarion threw his head back with a guttural sound, lost to everything but the dizzying spiral of pleasure consuming him from all sides. He was alive and set ablaze.

And how pleasant it was to burn.

✿⊹₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✩ ₊⁺⋆☽⋆⁺₊⊹ ✿

Halsin wrapped his bulky arms around Astarion and Tav, pulling their sweat-slicked bodies against his broad chest.

The three figures lay entwined, spent and panting, exhausted limbs heavy.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of their ragged breaths mingling with the gentle rustling of leaves and chirping of crickets in the surrounding woods.

Astarion turned his head on Halsin’s shoulder to gaze at Tav, a lazy smile playing at his lips.

Tav met his eyes, her own crinkling with amusement.

A chuckle bubbled up from Astarion’s throat. “Well, that was certainly...invigorating,” he quipped.

Tav’s musical laughter rang out as she leaned in, capturing Astarion’s mouth in a tender kiss, the casual intimacy of long-time lovers.

As the couple exchanged sweet nothings, Halsin watched them with a soft, indulgent smile, content to remain a silent observer.

There was something profoundly beautiful about the pure adoration that flowed between them, the deep bond they so clearly shared. An intimacy he could appreciate, even if he had no real part in it.

“Enchanting, how enraptured you are with one another. ” the druid remarked warmly. “A fleeting moment of passion, precious in its ephemerality.”

Astarion rolled his eyes fondly at the druid’s poetic waxing. “Ever the hopeless romantic, aren’t you Halsin? I suppose there are worse things.”

He turned back to Tav, fingertips grazing her cheek.”Now, where were we, my dearest? Ah yes...basking in the afterglow of our salacious little adventure...”

As Astarion drew her into another languid kiss, Halsin suppressed a wistful sigh.

What they had was rare and special, not to be intruded upon. He would enjoy this temporary closeness, this glimpse into their private world...but come morning, he knew, it would be a cherished memory and nothing more.

The lovers only had eyes for each other.

[tibby-art]

I was thinking about an arcane au for the hermitcraft/life series guys in which Cub and Scar are hextech researchers (Cub is the researcher, Scar is just advertising their stuff)

anyways I think they would explode eachother before any of the plot even starts 🩵

(but if they don't, then,, hexcore corrupted cub would be cool,,,)

HELLOOOOOO are you saying jayvik convex because YOURE CRAZY. /pos i had discussed arcane au with friends and an idea we had was cub and scar both being Zaunites that have crystals and are using them for nefarious purposes. Scar being a sort of criminal leader of the underground and Cub as his close friend & buisness partner. Cub is a known & feared name for being this mysterious but powerful scientist, but not too many people have spoken to him so they think he's this scary evil dude and then you meet him and hes. kind of just some guy. i mean theyre right about him being insane but hes also just some guy. also i think grian is from piltover but is in zaun helping with the revolution and hiding his past. no one knows he's a piltie, except scar, who clocks it immediately but pretends to be oblivious. Change my mind

[echooefrost]

TGS MEDIEVAL AU :0

Is this Historically accurate? no. Does that matter? no.

Alright, This is gonna be a lot, so thou shalt be warned

In the Au, Robert is a prince and Lanyon Sr. is the King, they rule over a small kindom somewhere in England - name TBA (so not like real monarchies which rule over entire countries etc.) The premise is basically; The Lanyon's personal/private doctor recently passed away so they call in a new doctor/chemist from Scotland - did you guess? yep, It's Jekyll. Hyde exists before Henry/Edward meets Robert (I haven't worked out the exact logistics about it yet, but I will) Jekyll/Hyde are more Chemists/Alchemists than Doctors but they are both still very good doctors regardless (so they don't really wear the 'plague mask' thing) I aged only Jekyll, Hyde and Lanyon down to about their early 20's so it matches around the original timing of when J&H met Robert in TGS. There are other smaller reasons but they aren't to important, all you need to know is that it doesn't really change anything

Lanyon is betrothed to Everly from a neighbouring kingdom -this is where it differs slightly from TGS, it's a political marriage not a lavender marriage. Neither Robert nor Everly are happy about this however, they are both only children in royalty so they don't really have an option.

Hyde is essentially the local gremlin that has in-built eyebags and a sense to sell you things not very discreetly that he probably shouldn't be selling. His Cape is comedically large and has a very extensive collection of illegal powders, drugs, and other nefarious items. Almost everybody knows Hyde becasue at some point they have all needed some rare item from him. - this is where the blackfog comes in (yes it exists!) the Blackfog is basically the same but Hyde really wants to go so he can buy/sell lots of items for his little side-business he has going on, however Lanyon Sr. is opposed to it and it's existence because well... illegal.

*Hyde also goes by: The Spirit of [insert Kingdom's name] at night (soooooo original, ik)

Jekyll stays pretty much the same, He really cares about his reputation so he can move up on the social ladder and create his own Science business at some point, and I mean he doesn't want to make a fool of himself in front of the King of all people, that wouldn't be a very good look, would it?

In this universe, The lodgers are all citizens of the small kingdom and they all sort of have different occupations/roles in the town. They can't all be scientists, but do not fear because they still as equally crazy and chaotic as before. Rachel is the Lanyon's personal chef but she also helps run the bakery in town with Mr. Doddle. Jasper looks after most of the animals and creatures in the kingdom, he used to be a farmer but moved to get away from home. I am yet to work out how Jekyll and Jaspers relationship dynamic stays the same in this universe but I will figure something out.

There is A LOT of Jekyon and Lanyde going on here, so I've got something for everyone, (there may or may not be a masquerade at some point...) and it's not just centred around romance, there is lots of other plot stuff happening so do not fear my ace/aro friends (or just people who aren't a fan of romance)!

That's most of it for now... I'll draw some more stuff at some point and give some extra details, If you have any questions please ask (my asks are open) I'd love to hear from you all!!! Don't be afraid to offer any suggestions or other criticisms. Maybe I'll write a fanfic one day who knows, we will see.

Thanks for listening to my rant (*^▽^*)

*Footnote - I don't think you guys realise how hard it was to make hyde not look like either A.) a fucking elf or B.) Link. Did I succeed? not sure.

[jessaerys]

the frustrating thing about the wednesday show is that when studios acquire rights to center an entire ass show around some ip character they clearly need a plot, right, the character doesn't usually come with one, so they slap on a season long murder mystery and turn our main ip character into an average nancy drew. nothing really wrong with that except that with the character of wednesday (whose whole shtick relies on being a sicko who genuinely loves torture and murder) this clearly runs into a conflict of interests really fast which leads to clunky narration where she's like "i always love murder..... except this one. this one is Wrong..." which is so awkward and self conscious. and i don't think it would've been the right move to make her a villan either because that's not really what the charm of the addams is about. they are fundamentally loving people. i actually really enjoyed this wednesday's little character arc where she gets to interact with peers and everyone is drawn to her bc she's cute and weird until she's actually toxic and everyone is like actually, fuck you, and she realizes that oh no!!! turns out having friends is kind of nice actually!!!

however what is maddening to me is that they shoved her in this small town grimdark magic school for some goddamn reason? the thing about the addams is that they are characters that only work in a controlled environment. put them in a realistic setting and they fall apart. writing the above formula with the character of wednesday in a way that makes her the hero wherein her addams weirdness is the strength that saves the day is actually such obvious low hanging fruit it boggles my mind that they didn't go that route: the central conflict and it's villians should have been a peppy, colorful background against which to contrast her; some type of basic stepford wives don't worry darling-esque "we are going to force everyone to conform to our barbie world through nefarious means" type situation, equally exaggerated in the opposite direction; the desert bluffs to her night vale. enid's whole aesthetic blown up to encompass the entire setting but enid is ofc still her bestie who was blind to the evils around her until wednesday started to uncover them. and also they are dykes and they kiss and there are no boys allowed. the stupidest thing they did was put wednesday addams in a straight love triangle. anyway those are my two cents. netflix hire me

[oneatlatime]

Lake Laogai

This Lake had better have Appa in it. With little water wings on.

Skipping the commentary as usual.

The Previously On section suggests that a whole lot of plot threads are about to crash into each other. Strap in folks.

Lefty Sokka!

Beat up Sokka quota fulfilled by his sister's critique of his art skills. It's not like he had paper to practice with at the South Pole.

Sometimes I forget that Aang is 12, then he does something like attempt to rescue his pet from a nefarious city-wide conspiracy of silence with lost cat posters.

"Good tea is its own reward." That means no, he isn't paid enough.

Remember what I said in my last post about Iroh bringing too much attention to himself?

"senior executive assistant manager" someone on the writing team has worked retail I see. Nothing like meaningless promotions with no raise attached! It's right up there with employee pizza party.

I have to pause here and point something out. This whole scene with Iroh? This is an adult fantasy. I don't mean dirty, I mean this whole scene was put in specifically to appeal to the adults who got roped in to watching this kids' show by their children. A rich man walks through the door of your shitty retail job, immediately spots your natural greatness, and offers you a much better paying job with unlimited creative freedom and a better house to go with it? Find me a burnt out retail worker who hasn't conjured up this fantasy five times a shift.

And so the plots come crashing back together. This won't end badly.

"patience really pays off" I checked. He waited literally three seconds.

Shout out to Toph in the background playing catch with a ball she can't see. Casual flex of epic proportions.

Remind me never to go to Lake Laogai. Sounds like it's lousy with Ju Dees.

So the Ju Dees don't know about each other? Because she seems honestly confused. Does Ju Dee think she's the only Ju Dee? What happens if two Ju Dees run into each other in the street?

Posters are illegal but I haven't heard a peep about recarving a bunch of fields into a zoo.

This is maybe the second time Aang's blown up over Appa. Frankly he deserves more blow ups about the whole situation.

I don't think knocking down walls will help find Appa, but I applaud Toph's spirit.

They took out a whole wall and then exit by the door anyways. That's funny.

I really hate this guy, but I have to admit that he may be the first truly competent villain of the series.

'The Jasmine Dragon' also lets anyone with half a brain know that you're Fire Nation. Try the Jasmine Badgermole instead.

Zuko really can't catch a break, huh? He wasn't happy being a tea server, but at least he was resting. But every time he gets five minutes to himself, the main plot reappears to drag him back into the action, whether he wants to or not. Although he hasn't figured out that he doesn't want to be dragged back yet.

Every line of dialogue in this scene is a good point. Zuko's right, Iroh's right. The Zuko's right again, then Iroh's right again.

YES YES YES GET HIS ASS

That was satisfying!

I'm not understanding why Sokka is the voice of reason here. Is he incapable of holding a grudge? He's the one that had all the animosity with Jet to begin with. Shouldn't it be Aang who wants to hear him out?

Toph is a living lie detector now? I can't think of an example off the top of my head, but I'm sure that could have come in handy previously. Any other incredibly useful skills we should know about?

Jet is oddly defensive for someone who claims to know he did wrong.

Ever get so excited that your spine malfunctions?

Sokka just has a metre long map in his pocket. Good friend to have in a pinch.

Avatar first! Katara is rude to an old person!

I'm going to have fun with Toph's new ability.

Toph, you have never been more right. It is the worst city ever. You are really shining this episode.

I know this is a serious scene, but I need to point out that Jet's guyliner is on point.

This shot is jarringly out of place. I think it's because it both black and white, and live action. Those have to be real clouds.

So the Blue Spirit can talk after all. Careful, your Zuko is showing.

Wow Zuko is good at sewing. And fast too.

Sokka is having far too much fun with this whole 'prompt Jet's memory' thing. Maybe he does have a bit of a grudge after all.

Katara can reverse brainwashing now too? Everyone's levelling up this episode.

This scene with the planks is a very cool and disorienting visual.

Didn't have 'the gaang breaks into a brainwashing facility' on my ATLA bingo card.

Pretty.

OMIGOD IT'S AP- did Zuko just break the fourth wall?

Everyone always forgets to look up.

So this fight is going to be Toph v. all of the Dai Li while everyone else tries not to get in Toph's way.

That's a boat.

Toph could probably take all these guys out faster if she wasn't having to constantly break off to save everyone else from them.

The Dai Li prancing up walls is a really cool visual. It's very Ty Lee of them.

I love watching her work.

Why don't you let Long Feng escape? He's no longer threatening you, and you're down there to rescue Appa. Just let him go.

The security on Lake Laogai is a joke.

Big words from someone who also had no plan whatsoever at the North Pole.

Zuko knows that Iroh's right. He knows, and that's important. I don't think Iroh is saying anything that Zuko hasn't thought and then hurriedly pretended to have never thought about before. It's why he says 'stop it' rather than being completely confused as to what Iroh is referring to.

Poor Appa's like 'can you have a crisis of self after you free me please?'

'You've chosen your own demise." No. You chose it for him. That's some top tier deflection/victim blaming right there.

Longshot can talk!

That's one hell of a set up and pay off re: Toph's lie detecting abilities.

Poor Jet. A double tragedy: to be likeable only when you're brainwashed, and to dedicate your life to wiping out the Fire Nation yet being killed by the Earth Kingdom.

Hi Appa. It's about time buddy.

Shockingly in character for Appa's first actions to be to single handedly save the Gaang from a threat.

You skip that bastard like a stone.

Everyone go and listen to the sound Appa makes when he spits out Long Feng's shoe. It's delightful.

I am framing this.

And this too.

I can tell there's some shmymbolism here, but it's gone right over my head.

Final Thoughts

Appa is back. The Gaang has Appa back. I have Appa back. Ok. I can relax now. With any luck, this means we can leave Ba Sing Se.

This episode felt like City of Walls and Secrets, Part 2. I think it was a good decision to have a couple of episodes between the two, but I think there would be some tonal whiplash if you binged this section of season 2. Which wouldn't have been a problem for a show designed to air once a week, so it's a moot point.

So Zuko freed Appa from his chains, and presumably pointed him in the direction of a door or something. Or maybe not; Appa has a ridiculously hard head, he could have busted his way out. Either way, Zuko broke the chains. Thanks Zuko!

In season 1, Zuko finds the Avatar the world had lost. In season 2, Zuko finds the Sky Bison the Avatar had lost. So in season 3, Zuko will find something Appa has lost. I wonder what that will be?

Jet being killed by the Earth Kingdom is so deliciously ironic, and tragic, yet very in character for the Earth Kingdom's approach to this war. It's also literally this:

Smellerbee and Longshot have really gotten the short end of the stick over and over this season. They were the only ones to decide to stick with Jet. Presumably they were the only ones who believed that he had had a legitimate change of heart. And they were kind of wrong. They get to Ba Sing Se only for Jet to immediately backslide way past even where he was at his worst in Season 1. He completely discounts and dismisses their legitimate concerns for his methods and his overall health. Then Jet gets arrested and disappears for two (?) weeks. So what do they do now? Get jobs? Steal so they don't starve? Then suddenly Jet's back but he doesn't even remember them. Then suddenly Jet's dead. The whole point of coming to Ba Sing Se just died, in a way that shows very clearly that their desire to help with the war is not welcome at all in the city. So what now? Do they leave and try to fight in the war from outside the walls? Do they settle down and try to forget about the war? Things did spiral completely out of Jet's control once the Dai Li got involved, but you have to admit that he's left his only remaining friends up a creek.

Sokka had some good jokes but was oddly ok with this episode's events. Toph had some great lines and got to shine with a new skill that any writer with half a brain will bring back in future episodes. She felt like the audience substitute this episode, which is usually Sokka's role. Toph was episode MVP for sure. Poor Aang took a bit of a back seat this episode. Zuko finally hit the crisis point, and may well have made his first indisputably correct decision of the series. But, as previous episodes have gone out of their way to show me that Zuko being good always goes badly for Zuko, I'm sure freeing Appa will somehow come back to bite him.

Iroh's question of "who are you? And what do you want?" was Zuko's entire character arc this season. He took a shot at answering the "who are you?" portion in Zuko Alone, and sort of halfway got there before messing up at the end of the episode. As for the "what do you want?" Zuko will tell you (often and repeatedly) that he wants his honour back. But I think he just wants to go home. The thing is, I strongly suspect that the home Zuko wants to return to hasn't existed since his mother left, if it ever existed at all. Which means that while "who are you?" has an answer Zuko can work towards, "what do you want?" has an answer that is kind of impossible. So Zuko is going to have to learn to want something new.

RIP Jet. Your life was fucked to Hell long before you were old enough to try and salvage it. You'll probably be missed by more people than you strictly deserve. War sucks, amirite?

[certainwizardlady]

Roll for Story- G/t edition

I love all the writers appreciation posts from last month ❤️ my humble offering for you writers is a silly roll for blank game using all the tropes. Feel free to use/edit as you please. If you write something from this please lemme know!!

your Main Character is a

Giant

human

tiny

sizeshifter

Flip a coin: do they get shrinkrayed/growthrayed? Heads for yes tails for no

your second MC is a:

Giant

human

tiny

sizeshifter

setting:

Home

Outdoors

different dimension

silly place (carnival, dmv, etc)

how do they meet?

Caught in a trap

being hunted

online (uh oh are they dating?)

found while stealing food or supplies

magically transported to each other

vortex of mystery

person b is noisy. Person a finds and tells them to knock it off

alien invasion

cursed by a witch

meet cute in a public park

Someone’s injured

Mutual friend

Coworkers

new neighbors

Taking a class

Person a hired person b (hit man, task rabbit, dog sitter, etc)

Both are being sent on an epic quest by a wise old wizard

Childhood besties

Oops we swapped bodies and need to figure out who this new body is and how to get back

Amnesia and both wake up in a lab

Ope! One of your characters is secretly a….

Vampire

werewolf

demon

really boring normal dude

fairy

big ol fuckin nerd

wizard

really nice guy under all the snark

Your characters don’t want to be in this forced proximity because…

One of them needs to go home

a deadline for xyz is coming up and they do not have the time for this

they are mortal enemies since childhood

the big is keeping the tiny captive

the tiny is keeping the big captive

the other person annoys the hell out of them

person a has goals and the situation with b is hindering that

prejudice that shall be overcome

Ope looks like plot needs to happen

The tiny or giant is seen by a nefarious character

the out of size character gets caught in a life threatening situation

the gov wants info and is hunting down our differently sized friend

an ex is jealous of this new relationship and will do anything to break them up

roll for a new character. This one is just an asshole and so selfish that it negates the main character’s goals.

our main characters have a fight that results in someone walking out

the bigger character accidentally destroys the smaller ones things/home/city

miscommunication! (Classic modern family plot)

where does the smol sleep?

Sock

mitten

in hand

drawer

nest

their own house

chest of big

cage

[himejoshikomaeda]

my liege... it would appear there is a wolf amidst your flock, a wretched beast that would seek to bury itself in the skin of your congregation, teeth and bone alike. trust only thyself... and i, of course.

see this is what i wanna be surrounded with 24/7. most monarchs fall into the trap of only having one evil advisor but that gives the advisor a monopoly on evil in your court. you need to make sure literally every advisor in your court is a devious and nefarious tall girlthing with heavy eyeliner dressed mostly in black. what happens if one gets a little too ambitious and tries to plot against you? the other evil advisors all independently work to have that advisor assassinated in order to earn my trust. the chances that they would all work together at the same time to kill you are pretty low. hold on my friend brutus just brought a bunch of people over i think we're gonna hold a feast or something

[lehnsharrk]

The *New* Fassbender Psychopath Scale 😈

*Updated 01/27/2025*

I wanted to expand on the one introduced on the Kelly Clarkson show, below are the Fassy movies I've seen, my general "psychopath" rating for each character and reason why

Disclaimers:

For context I am essentially swapping "psychopath" with "evil," I am in no way trying to tie this to any psychological disorders or do a deep dive into any characters. Just a very surface-level "how nefariously evil is this character?"

These are my opinions, I encourage you to share, comment and make your own ratings. I will also be updating as I watch more of his films.

There *will* be spoilers so if you haven't seen these movies/shows, consider yourself warned!

The scale will also be a 0-5. I'm using 👿 and a zero will be a 👍

Let's go! 🦈

Movies 🎥

Inglourious Basterds: Lt. Hicox 👍

Goes undercover to help defeat the n*zis (and technically helps get a few killed, even though he dies in the process)

Centurion: Quintus Dias 👿

Just a soldier, trying to survive but I'm going to give him something for killing some people

Jane Eyre: Mr. Rochester 👿👿👿

Keeps his wife, suffering from mental illness, *locked in the walls* and keeps it a secret so he doesn't scare off another woman he's trying to marry. Dude...

X-Men: Erik Lehnsherr/Magneto 👿👿

Erik's anger comes from a place of trauma and his worst fears keep coming to fruition. That being said, he does blindly distrust all humans, betrays Charles multiple times and causes so much unnecessary destruction.

A Dangerous Method: Carl Jung 👿👿

Doctor cheats on his wife with his patients, twice. Also, probably not a good idea to have your patient be your employee.

Shame: Brandon Sullivan 👍

A man suffering with addiction and trauma, plus added stress and guilt when his sister stays over. Wish I could give him a hug.

Haywire: Paul 👿👿

Honestly he's not in it for that long and I wasn't paying attention but I guess he double crossed the main character and shot someone?

Prometheus/Alien Covenant: David 8 👿👿👿

I will defend David with my dying breath but I'll be honest he does some horrendous things. Intentionally infecting humans with alien parasites, massacring an entire planet, killing and experimenting on someone he loved? But the humans were mean to him...

12 Years a Slave: Edwin Epps 👿👿👿👿👿

Sadistic slave owner and r*pist, yep about as evil as it gets

Frank: Frank 👍

Poor Frank has done no wrong, just wants to make music and wear mask

Slow West: Silas Selleck 👿

Starts out tricking the main character so he can find a bounty but has a change of heart

Macbeth: Macbeth 👿👿👿👿

M*rders the king in his sleep so he can become king, orders Banquo and his son killed (although the son does escape) and burns Macduff's wife and children at the stake. One evil dude.

Steve Jobs: Steve Jobs 👿👿

Forget being a greedy businessman, a neglectful father and stealing credit from his friend and business partner, his cardinal sin was dipping his feet in a fucking public toilet

The Light Between Oceans: Tom Sherbourne 👿

Yes, he and his wife were heartbroken after their miscarriages but he does technically kidnap a child, keeping her from her grieving mother. His guilt starts eating at him and he desperately tries to keep his wife from getting prosecuted

Assassin's Creed: Cal/Aguilar 👿

I don't remember what or if there was a plot for this movie but I remember he was arrested for killing someone and then also kills some more people so I'll give him something.

Song to Song: Cook 👿👿

This movie was hard to follow but I'm giving him a two because he might be a groomer (he met the main character, who he later sleeps with, at 16) and he cheated Ryan Gosling's character out of the copyright on his songs.

Alien Covenant: Walter 1 👍

Don't really think Walter can be evil, he doesn't have the capacity that David does

Next Goal Wins: Thomas Rongen 👿

Verbally abusive and throws things. Also intentionally misgenders and deadnames a character because he's upset at her, all for the sake of character development!?

TV 📺

A Bear Named Winnie: Lt. Coleburn 👿

He brings a bear to a military camp, A BEAR. Also leaves the bear at a zoo, letting her live out her life in a small cage instead of releasing her back to the wild when he had the chance

William & Mary: Lukasz 👿👿👿

Jumped through the episode to watch the Fassy bits but ew I hate this one. Guy m*lests the midwife that just delivered he and his girlfriend's baby

Sherlock Holmes & The Case of the Silk Stocking: Charles Allen 👿👿👿👿

Even though it's two characters, I'm rating them the same. One's a child m*lester and murder and one knew about it and did nothing

The Agency: Martian 👿

Hmm he is knowingly putting himself, his daughter, the cia AND his girlfriend at risk because he can't let his relationship go? (Show is ongoing so we'll see if this changes)

Let me know what you think!

Share any suggestions of what movie I should watch next.

[abbysimsfun]

From the (Crowded!) Inbox: My Least Favourite Sim(s)

One, I'm sorry I'm so terribly bad at these and for my delay in replying! Two, I like my characters - even the high drama ones (because of the drama!), so this was tough. Three, thank you so much to @perolesims and @matchalovertrait for this tag that made me think too hard!

I couldn't even pick one, so feel free to get to know the erratic ex with Fatal Attraction vibes, Ximena Bonilla, and Heather's childhood best friend and (reformed?) sleaze, Everett Pancakes, after the cut...

(Forgive this shot of Rafa. I believe he was quite literally juiced when I took it, and I don't have anything better of the two of them. For now.)

Ximena is the obvious choice for least favourite sim. She's been stalking Conrad and his family for years, lived in Conrad's old apartment to sleep on his old furniture, and she traumatized her little brother and dragged him into a life smuggling for a dangerous cartel.

She had a really difficult upbringing and chose smuggling over being trafficked, but what she's done with her ingenious self-preservation skills are borderline terrifying.

Plus she's smug. And yells nonsense from time to time. And I gave her a quirk to change her hair colour a lot, which just made it harder on me, the CAS-laziest, to change her up so often! 😂

Irrationally, I used such great poses in her flashback episode with Conrad that she peeved me off for looking good with him! And she gave him non-canon crabs.

The second least-favourite sim is less obviously a villain, but he sort of became one. And I hated it so much because the guy was supposed to be deeply ingrained in Gen 2, father the heir, etc (I will throw out an entire generational plot sometimes, yes) - and all those plans fell out the window because he was always happy to cheat on his gorgeous wife, Spencer - the family he chose to have when Heather was pining for him all through high school, and he knew it.

He wasn't supposed to become a heel, and his trauma totally stems from the tragic death of his mother, Eliza, in a housefire when he was really young, but even after he and Heather officially called time on their feelings, their mistakes, their whatever, Spencer asked him point blank about his feelings and he lied and said there was nothing there - immediately after coming home from a trip he made alone to see Heather in Brindleton Bay (when she found out she was pregnant with Malcolm Landgraab's son), and they would've autonomously woohooed if I hadn't stopped them.

That said, he underwent counseling with his wife, Heather was a surrogate for his and Spencer's second child, and he and Heather's lifelong bond is unbreakable. I don't see him sneaking around in the background doing anything nefarious, so while I don't prefer him and kicked him out of Heather's legacy plan, I don't totally hate the guy. It's not like he doesn't try, and he's a good dad!

In the shot above, Everett poses with his in-laws, Eric and Alice Kim-Lewis, his wife Spencer, children Greyson (in glasses), Jett, and toddler Violet, with their dog JJ. Clipping is my fault because I was blending poses again and didn't really care about perfection.

Honourable Mentions: Townie bartender Diego Vazquez-Chopra for unceremoniously cheating on Bella Goth and eloping with widower Rahul. Henford mayor (and eventual wife of Bob) Annette Pancakes, who spent the entire time I brought her to Selvadorada for Spencer's bachelorette self-woohooing in front of everyone in their shared accommodations. I never even mentioned it because it was literally rabid and I hated how much it upset everyone else! She never even went outside. Some premades in my save would make this list, but I didn't think they belonged in this answer!

I think I'm supposed to send these to inboxes, but I'll tag absolutely anyone else who feels like doing this one!

WCIF: Everett and his family are posed with the Say Cheese posepack by @simmerberlin and it's missing someone on Spencer's other arm but oh well, I like it! Added in Greyson with the Random Emotions for Kids posepack by LiBet, and JJ with Large Dog poses, also by @simmerberlin.

[newbornwhumperfly]

whumpmas in july day 14: ideal fic wishlist

one of the most frustrating parts of being a writer is dreaming up a delightful fantasy, saying to oneself "damn, wish i could read that..", and then realizing..."fuck. i have to write it, don't i?" 😅💖 but, in lieu of that, i want to describe an ideal fiction i haven't yet written or read!

one my absolute guaranteed sources of whumperflies is some massive, yet plot-relevant, misunderstanding that results in catastrophic distress and pain 😈😢😈

for years, i've had this fantasy about a "villain whumpee" (this is a nebulous definition, typically describing someone outcast, perhaps because they are a magical being or perhaps because of being trapped in a nefarious position in life) being inducted into a team of "heroes" (typically people cast as "good guys" in some socially significant way, usually a combination of people genuinely trying their best to be good in a flawed, shitty system or genuine assholes of some brand). typically, this "villain" character does genuinely buy into their own "badness" to a degree that severely impacts their self-worth. 🥺🥺🥺

anyways, of course, this villain whumpee, who is so desperately trying to prove themselves to their team, to society, and to themselves, is caught in a situation where they must (seem to) ✨ betray their team ✨ and, oh no, my poor whumpee is horribly punished in some...Socially Justified Manner for their perceived betrayal (perhaps by the authorities, perhaps by other "villains") but regardless, this villain whumpee is left permanently and profoundly hurt 😰😢

this villain whumpee now must flee, running away for their own safety, because they cannot bear being further harmed and punished by their team, both because they know the impending punishment would be horrible to experience (and they are already so very hurt, they are in so much pain) and also because they cannot bear the people they've become close to now being their - of course very justified - tormenters 🥺🥺🥺

so the villain whumpee flees, carving out a meager, difficult little life for themself, while nursing their disabilities/injuries and also their heart-wounds at the betrayal they do not want to reckon with as well as the actions they committed against their newfound friends 😭🥺

but eventually, their former friends, the team of "heroes", tracks down the "villain whumpee" and the whumpee believes with all their heart that their former friends are here to enact revenge or justice or both. 🥺💔😭 a particulate feature of this story which i enjoy imagining is the villain whumpee desperately, in terror, trying to escape and get away and still getting caught, cornered, perhaps tearfully pleading for mercy? 😭😭😭

(whether or not the team is there to genuinely reconcile with their former friend because they realize they were in the wrong OR they are there to...apprehend this person for some reason - perhaps plot relevant information reasons, perhaps even begrudgingly, perhaps still believing their old friend was a traitorous piece of shit - is variously intriguing to me....😈😈😈 in other words, it is entirely plausible that this "reunion" has many earmarks of a capture.)

the apprehension of this deeply injured, malnourished, exhausted, terrified, outnumbered person by a cadre of powerful, pissed-off, former friends, all faces this whumpee knows and loved and can personally plead with by name, is...extremely delicious to me and my trope-loving little heart 🥺💖😭

i've had some loose sketches of characters here and there stewing on the back-burner for some time now, some of the inspiration for this character being found in my blog's tag "vasily vibes", in case anybody is curious! but i've never written and fleshed this idea out fully but it is a brand of fantasy i've greatly enjoyed whenever i come across anything remotely fitting the bill. 😍😍😍

gimme desperation, gimme aching angsty sadness at not being believed and thinking oneself abandoned and cast aside but still loving and being devastated by that loss, gimme social exclusion, gimme complex and morally dubious good guys, gimme indulgent levels of sheer "weeping over the memory of those who despise you" hurts, gimme disgustingly tropey disgust and ostracization and a lack of meaningful self-defense. 💔💔💔 i'm an absolute sucker for a well-meaning outcast falling deep into the "oops i care so much" hole and being subsequently fucked over for it 😈🥺😈

if you have a tale that seems similar at all to this - or you just want to share your headcanons! - please hit me up. i love suffering 😍💖

have a very merry @whumpmasinjuly everyone and stay safe! 💖

@whumpmasinjuly-archive

[gigi-the-writer]

Post-Heed Heartache

Commissioned by @realbugmom!

(My commissions are still open!)

In the heart of Black Hat Organization, where schemes and nefarious plots were a daily routine, Dr. Flug had recently been enduring a series of mishaps and failures that seemed to plague his once brilliant mind. The Miss Heed situation and the pressure to continuously deliver perfection had begun to weigh heavily on him. Each experiment that failed, each plan that went awry, each night he’d lay awake thinking about her seemed to erode his confidence bit by bit. It affected him, and it affected his work. He felt like he was sinking into a pit of inadequacy, and the ever-looming shadow of Black Hat’s displeasure didn’t make things any better.

His usual spark was dimming, his enthusiasm faltering, and his once meticulous work ethic seemed to be slipping through his fingers. It was under these conditions that his loyal assistant, who had always been dedicated to supporting him, found themselves shouldering a considerable amount of the burden.

Despite their efforts to manage the chaos around the lab, things had become increasingly stressful. They had taken up additional responsibilities, running interference between Dr. Flug and Black Hat's scolding, handling 5.0.5’s relentless childlike nature, and even trying to keep the ever-energetic Demencia in check. The assistant’s days were filled with running from one crisis to another, all the while maintaining an outwardly calm demeanor.

The doctor was struggling to get over the Cecilia incident, that was clear to them.

One particularly grueling afternoon, Dr. Flug found himself in the midst of an experiment that was falling apart. Frustration had bubbled up within him, and when his assistant came in to offer a solution, he snapped. His patience was worn thin, and his nerves were frayed.

“Can’t you see I’m trying to fix this?” Dr. Flug’s voice was sharp as he pointed to the malfunctioning contraption before him. “Your interruptions are just making things worse!”

The assistant flinched, their shoulders tensing as the harsh words cut through them. They had been working tirelessly to keep everything running smoothly, and Dr. Flug’s outburst felt like a betrayal of all their hard work. Yet, despite the sting of his words, they managed to mask their hurt with a polite nod and exited the lab to deal with the fallout of his frustration.

His assistant closed the door and slid down against the wall to the floor, their head in their hands. They began to sniffle and sob. They just want the man they know- the man they love back.

—

That evening, as Dr. Flug retreated to his quarters, he heard the faint murmur of voices outside his door. Curiosity got the better of him, and he carefully approached the source of the conversation. Peering through the crack, he saw Demencia and his assistant in a heated discussion.

“...He’s been nothing but a lousy ingrate to you lately,” Demencia was saying, her tone both accusatory and concerned. “You’ve been running around doing all his dirty work while he snaps at you like you’re the problem! What the hell’s up with him?!”

The assistant's voice was calm but laced with a quiet determination. “He’s under a lot of pressure right now. I understand he’s been difficult, but he’s still a good person at heart.”

Demencia’s eyes widened. “Good person? That’s stretching it a bit, don’t you think? He’s been a mess, and you’re the only one keeping everything from falling apart.”

The assistant took a deep breath. “He’s going through a rough patch. We all have our moments. I just want to be there to support him, even if it’s tough.”

She grins at them “Oooh do you like him or somethin’?”

They sigh “It doesn’t matter. He probably doesn’t feel that way about me ever since the whole Cecilia situation. Though, even if he doesn’t..I still want to be there for him, even if it’s only as a friend.

Demencia rolled her eyes, “What are you even getting out of this?”

…

“Hopefully I’ll get the Dr. Flug I know back.”

Dr. Flug, hidden in the shadows, felt a pang of guilt. He had always known his assistant was reliable, but hearing them speak so selflessly about him, despite his recent behavior, made him realize just how much they had sacrificed. His heart ached with the realization of how he had been treating someone who had been nothing but supportive.

Demencia rolled her eyes,

“Well anyways, I got to see BlackHat today! By sneaking up to his window of course- but still—“

The words fade into muffled laughter as Flug began to walk away and headed straight to his room. He sits on his bed and stares at his shaking hands. He’s been such a horrible friend..he doesn’t..he doesn’t deserve the kindness he’s been given. He doesn’t even realize that a few tears have dropped and stained his jeans.

When everyone is presumably asleep, he quietly gets up and is on his way to their room, having to pass the lab as he goes to the door. When he gets to their room, he knocks on the door but there’s no answer, he slowly opens it himself to find..nobody. Frustrated, he goes back to the lab only to find them asleep at their desk…he didn’t even notice them! He leans over the desk to look at their face, and sees their puffy, tear-stained cheeks..

Without a word he pulls up a chair and sits next to them, eventually falling asleep himself.

When he wakes up, they’re gone, he looks at the clock on his desk. It’s only 6AM..that’s usually the time he gets up to work..apparently they’ve been taking up that burden as well.

He walks all around the manor to find them, finally stumbling upon them in the kitchen, helping 5.0.5 with breakfast.

“Fluffy bear, could you go get my clipboard for me? I forgot it in the lab.”

The bear gives him a silly salute and goes on his way to the lab.

There’s silence for a few moments, before the doctor nervously slides up next to them as they’re flipping pancakes. They’re exhausted, he can tell by the eye bags. “Hey.”

“..hey.” His assistant stated in a very monotone sounding pitch.

“I..I’m sorry..”

His assistant looks at him, confused. “Sorry for what??”

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” Dr. Flug began, his voice faltering. “But... I heard what you said.”

The assistant looked at him, their eyes reflecting a mixture of fatigue and resignation. “Dr. Flug...”

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “I’ve been... a jerk. I didn’t realize how much you’ve been doing for me, and I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

Demencia, who was standing in the doorway for a few minutes, sensing the sincerity in Flug’s voice and seeing the look on the assistant’s face that said ‘we need a moment’, stepped back and gave a small nod. “Well, maybe you should listen to what they have to say. They’re the only reason you haven’t completely messed things up.”

The assistant remained silent, their gaze fixed on Dr. Flug. After a moment, they spoke softly. “We all have our off days. I just wanted to be here for you, even if it’s been hard. I understand how it is, losing a friend. Sometimes..you just need to let it go, focus on the friends you have currently and the ones you’ll make in the future, Y’know?”

Dr. Flug felt a lump in his throat. He had been so consumed by his own failures and the echoing of his memories that he hadn’t stopped to appreciate the unwavering support his assistant had provided. He took a deep breath, struggling to find the right words.

“I... I appreciate everything you’ve done,” he said finally. “You’ve been more than just an assistant. You’ve been a friend, and I’ve taken that for granted. I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you.”

The assistant gave a small, tired smile. “It’s okay. I understand that things haven’t been easy for you. Just... try to take a moment for yourself, alright? We can work through this together.”

Dr. Flug nodded, feeling a surge of relief. “Thank you. I’ll do better. I promise.”

Demencia still had her head poked into the kitchen, grinning at them and making kissy faces. All in good fun obviously.

His assistant turns to him, their eyes full of sincerity and just genuine..love..Flug swears he can feel his heart beating out of his chest.

“Do you want to talk about it?” the assistant asked gently.

Dr. Flug hesitated before nodding. “Yes, I think I need to. I’ve been so focused on my own memories and past incidents that I haven’t really stopped to think about what’s been happening around me.”

They sat down together, and for the first time in a long while, Dr. Flug found himself opening up about his struggles to conquer his past and the fear of not being able to move on. His assistant listened patiently, offering words of encouragement and understanding.

As the night wore on, they found a renewed sense of connection. Dr. Flug began to understand the true value of the support he had been given, and the assistant saw a glimpse of the man behind the frustration and failures.

By the time the conversation came to an end, Dr. Flug felt a sense of hope that had been absent for a while. He knew that it wouldn’t be easy, but he was grateful to have someone who cared enough to help him through his struggles.

“Thank you,” he said again, his voice sincere. “For everything.”

They take his hand in theirs and intertwine their fingers. “No problem.”

The assistant smiled, their exhaustion momentarily forgotten. “It’s what friends are for.”

They sit there for a while, his assistant eventually falling asleep, their head resting on his shoulder. He hasn’t felt like this in a long time..butterflies, maybe? He hasn’t experienced a crush since highschool..but..for them..he’s willing to try at it again.

In that moment, both knew that despite the challenges ahead, they would face them together. Putting their past behind them was hard, but with each other’s support, it seemed a little less daunting. And as they continued to navigate the complexities of their world, they did so with a newfound understanding and appreciation for the strength of their bond.