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#n they need more fics too
nikinikori · 2 days
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yes, all it took was a dark haired uruk single dad and a pretty feisty she-elf princess
and one episode
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he’s staring.
in the corner of your eye lies a silhouette, a blur of black hair and sharp facial features. awfully hard not to notice, when he’s standing so close to you — gazing at you so intently. waiting for you to say something.
(resisting the urge to look at him directly is a struggle.)
a smile tugs at the corners of your lips, something giddy and sweet flooding your veins. he’s just standing there. all while you tap at the keys of your laptop, trying to focus on your work. in vain.
because, inevitably, the rubber band of your patience snaps — and you can do nothing but give in to the temptation. feeling him shift from foot to foot, silent as a mouse. you turn your head.
suguru looks meek.
there he stands, tired eyes trailing over your facial features, before falling down to the floor. something about it makes you want to coo — almost like he’s a little flustered. fidgeting with his hands, wringing his long fingers together, so patiently waiting for your attention to fall on him. 
you swear you see the ghost of a pout slip into the curve of his lips. wearing a comfortable sweater, oversized and fluffy, framed by the obsidian of his hair; cascading down his shoulders like a black river. let loose, free to fall as it please, a signature sign that he’s tired.
and as soon as your eyes meet his, a certain something blossoms within the scope of his iris. peeling at the corners, slipping into the amber and cedar, an emotion you can’t quite place. would it be too tacky to call it love?
a giggle slips from your lips, dancing on the tip of your tongue. it’s soft, a little teasing, but who could blame you when he looks so cute? suguru, with his tall stature and broad shoulders, sharp eyes and intimidating presence, staring meekly in your direction. as if too embarrassed to ask for something, curling into himself.
”hey there,” you exhale, something amused laced into the vowels. ”everything okay?”
he averts his gaze. enamored with the smile on your face, the crinkle of your eyes, the melodic lilt of your sweet laughter. like peach blossoms and duvet covers, too soft for him to handle. far too sweet, the mere sight of you, all cozied up on the couch; legs crossed and laptop balanced on your thigh. 
(suguru wishes he could take its place.)
a tilt of your head beckons him to speak, and he can’t help but notice the remnants of something teasing in the gesture. he feels a little out of his element, almost shy, and it’s discomforting — but he’s just so tired. much too plagued by the need to be close to you.
he can live with a little teasing, if it’s you, only if it’s you. 
”what’re you working on?” he asks, delicate, soft voice flowing from his lips like melted honey. there’s a raspy tilt to it, a little scratchy. you smile, gaze drawn towards the screen in front of you.
”nothing much, just some essay. i’m almost finished.” a low sigh, as you lazily scroll through the text. suguru hums. when you look over at him, the smile on your face grows just a tad softer. ”did you need something?”
suguru stills. blinking drowsily, slow and awfully endearing, a flutter of his black lashes. absentmindedly fidgeting with the hem of his puffy sleeve. the silence lingers, a contemplation etched onto his features, until he clears his throat — still unable to look at you properly. 
(there’s only one thing he wants. needs. asking for it is just a little bit tough, though.)
patiently waiting, you begin to study his expression. second nature, to tuck his features in between your ribs, smoothe along the contours you’ve come to love so dearly. memorizing every dip and birthmark.
there’s a barely noticeable flush to his cheeks, a crimson smear that starts at his ears and only ever nips along his cheekbones, but it’s enough to let you know that he’s embarrassed. more than enough, seeing as his gaze won’t even land on you, seeing the fatigue beneath his eyes, the crease between his brows. something that sticks to his skin and drags him down. 
he has been a little stressed, lately. more so than usual. and you’ve noticed, of course you have — worriedly waiting for him to approach you, to let you help. winters are never very kind to him. 
he’s gorgeous, though, even like this. especially like this. sleepy, just a little unkempt, in his natural state. bare, somehow. like he just woke up, like the morning sun is kissing up his collarbone and he just made a cute little sleepy noise that you’re going to tease him for over breakfast. like he’s unguarded, at peace, safe in your arms.
it makes your heart soften considerably. crumbling at the corners, a pang of lovesick ache tugging at your fragile heartstrings.
and finally, you speak up. urging him to continue, gently, not wanting to rush him. ”well?” 
suguru gnaws at the flesh of his bottom lip, just a little chapped. his tongue flits out to lick along the dry skin, and he does a little cough under his breath. you’re patient, waiting for him to speak, but it’s tough when all you want is to tug him close.
(you have an idea of what he’s going to ask you, what it is he wants. because you know him — and you want it too.)
”… can,” he starts, tentative. slow, as if he’s trying to swallow the embarrassment, gulp down the nervous flutter of his heartbeat. then he continues. ”i get a hug?”
finally, he looks at you; and your heart ricochets in your chest. amber eyes boring into yours, deep and warm, soft around the edges. kind of shy. 
a sharp intake of breath. you can’t help the grin that crawls up to your lips, and you can’t help the words that spill from them. ”gosh, you’re so cute.”
suguru turns away, with what you’re almost sure is a low grumble — buzzing in his throat, like a dragonfly itching to break out. he really does look meek, a little needy, so cute you’re afraid your lungs might collapse. when a chuckle pushes past your lips, the red tint on his neck and ears only seems to exacerbate. 
with swift movements, you close your laptop, plopping it down on the table in front of you. not wanting to waste any time, a little afraid that he’ll change his mind. ”of course you can,” you assure him, a soft lull of your tongue.
leaning back, you rest your head against a pile of cushiony pillows, melting into the couch beneath you. extending your arms; beckoning him close, into your embrace. the smile you grace him with is a little teasing, but mostly soft, inviting.
and suguru can’t resist it.
he still seems a little flustered, as he crawls along the couch, to take his rightful place in your arms. flopping down on top of you with a huff, like a big dog, cheek squished against your chest — eager to listen to the echo of your heartbeat. steady and soothing, a lullaby to his muddled mind.
a long, satisfied sigh escapes him, muffled into the fabric of your shirt. he wraps his arms around you, nuzzling a little further into your touch. slowly melting.
ah, he’s just too much. try as you might, you don’t fully manage to stifle the coo that laces the tip of your tongue. just admiring him, in the dim lighting of the room, all sleepy and content. that palpable fatigue, slowly dissipating. a soft groan slips from his lips when your hand goes to card through his hair, softly, nails raking over his scalp.
”my big baby,” you murmur, planting a kiss on the top of his head. suguru wants to grumble, protest a bit, but all he can do is soak in the words, the skip of his heartbeat that follows. ”everything okay?”
he nods. groggy, cheek against your soft chest. no longer able to hide his neediness, to muster the strenght, thoroughly soothed by the warmth that seeps from your body. from your veins to his. and he sighs, barely above a whisper. ”jus’ missed you.”
he must notice it, you think — the rapid rhythm of your heartbeat, something erratic in the decisive thumps of blood. a little louder than they should be. 
but if he does, he doesn’t mention it. only shifting a little in your arms, nuzzling further into your chest, relishing in the sensation of your hand in between his messy locks. so cozy. 
”i missed you too,” you echo, unable to fight off the sappy grin on your lips. so much affection in every caress, every soft glance. eager to be let out. ”’m sorry if i’ve been neglecting you.” 
suguru shakes his head — brushing off your guilt. always so willing to put your peace of mind before his. it only weakens you further, thoughts fuzzy with the image of him, the love that clouds your vision. how to properly convey it in words. 
”i’m always so proud of you,” you exhale, a little shaky. so earnest that you falter. a loud mantra of your heartbeat filling your ears, so much fondness stuffed inside your chest. ”working so hard. love you so, so much, honey.”
this time, it’s suguru’s heart that stutters and flails. reduced to a desperate instinct, something intimate and bare. the term of endearment slips off your tongue like it was always meant to be there, like that’s where it belongs, coupled with the soft sensation of your fingers ghosting over his skin. brushing away his bangs to smear a kiss against his forehead.
”i’m never gonna let you go,” you promise, unable to control the affection smeared into your voice. like you’d explode if you didn’t speak it out loud. ”my angel.”
”okay — that’s,” suguru croaks, before you can continue. exasperated, deeply embarrassed. at this point, he’s sure his face must be red, and he’s sure you can see it. despite his attempts to hide away in the crook of your neck. ”that’s enough.”
laughter bubbles up in your throat, sweet like osmanthus and whipped cream. giddy and teasing, in equal measure, sending a jolt of fondness running through his veins. ”are you embarrassed?”
”no,” he scoffs, too quickly. you both know he’s lying. it’s a rare treat, seeing him this flustered — how could you resist the urge to tease him a bit? 
”then why d’you want me to stop?” you grin, searching for his gaze. but suguru refuses to look at you.
”it’s just…” he mumbles, a string of tiny words. gnawing at his bottom lip. ”a little much, don’t you think?”
”i mean it, though.”
suguru groans, and a bout of giggles pushes past your lips. the smile on your face is starting to make your cheeks hurt, an achy kind of joy. yeah — suguru is just far too cute. he’s cute, and pretty, and beautiful, and gorgeous. how could you keep yourself away?
reaching for a strand of his hair, you let it fall between your fingers. smooth and silky, brushing against your skin, soft and familiar. memories bloom from your fingertips, seeping into your subconscious; the first time he let you touch his hair, that content purr in his throat, the time you braided it as the world fell asleep around you. he takes good care of it, always has. attentive and delicate, almost as lovingly as he handles you.
a great surge of affection sprouts in between your ribs, spreading throughout every cell of your body, wholly engulfing you. it’s too much to bear.
a blissful sigh. you tilt your head, softly, a bleeding tenderness to every word you speak. and you do, with a sincerity to your voice that he’s never been able to handle. “is it really so strange if i want to give the love of my life some affection?” 
— and suguru’s resolve crumbles into dust. 
”… you’re,” he tries, a shiver of his weak voice. under normal circumstances, he could think of a suave reply, something to get the upper hand; but today, suguru happens to be very tired, and you seem awfully set on making him melt through the couch. ”— awful. you know that?”
his heart aches, when the bitter words make you giggle. a little sleepy. it makes him want to tuck you into his chest, hide you away inside his ribcage. kiss you breathless.
”so mean,” you pout, entirely fabricated. a heavy amusement lays thick on your tongue. “i’m professing my undying love for you here, y’know?”
”that’s exactly what i mean,” he sighs, unable to repress the slight smile on his lips. a little tug, that says more than his words ever could.
the laughter in your throat lingers, for a bit, until the intimacy of the moment softens you up. something tender and genuine in the depths of your eyes. ”i mean it, though. i’m not just teasing you.” 
your hand goes to cup his face, thumb smoothing over his cheekbone. and then you’re leaning in, to press your lips against his forehead — pulling away with a drawn out mwah, a soft grin, a little boyish. terribly cute. 
”i really do love you,” you profess, a whisper. he believes you. “i love everything about you.”
a moment passes. the soft ticking of the clock fills the space between your words, and the scent of leftover curry and brewed coffee simmers in the faraway kitchen. wafting out into the living room. 
suguru places his hand over yours. a rough palm, always so gentle with you, slipping down to your wrist so he can hoist himself up. 
you blink. 
before you know it, he’s pressed his lips to yours, slow and methodical. tender, tender, tender. always. he sighs into the kiss, content, and your heartbeat quickens — he tastes like honey and rain.
when he pulls away, he’s smiling. a little lovesick.
”i love you too,” he hums, a soft purr that trails down your spine. he delights in the way you finally blush, cheeks warm beneath his heavy hands. ”so, so much.”
all you can do is stare, entirely transfixed. 
then you’re averting your gaze, and he’s stifling a soft bout of laughter, and something warm and wonderful blooms in the nearly non-existent space between you. his cheek finds itself pressed against your chest, again, allowing the soft and rapid thumping of your heartbeat to carry him away.
an anchor for him to hold on to, his lighthouse at the end of a murky ocean. it’s always, always there — that soft mantra of thump, thump, thump.
(he can’t tell you how many times it’s saved him.)
”… you can’t do stuff like that when my guard is down,” you murmur, after a moment. sheepish. ”what if my heart explodes?” 
suguru only chuckles, sleepy and raspy, the same as ever. he turns his head to press a kiss against the fabric of your shirt, right above your heart, a kind of cheeky, soft apology that you know he doesn’t actually mean. 
(he could never feel sorry for telling you how much he loves you; no matter how flustered you get.)
and, at last, suguru thinks the fatigue clinging to his soul may have slipped off entirely. substantially. soothed by your presence, your very being. 
it’s embarrassing, being so very doted on, being so painfully unaccustomed to it. but suguru could never hate it. he could never hate a single thing you do to him, grant him with, from your soft touches and cheeky kisses to the burnt pancakes you worked so hard on. 
he’d rather die than deny you. 
so he has no choice but to bask in it; the feeling of your hands in his hair, nails on his scalp, breath against his skin. the change you’ve brought into his life. bringing with you the fading scent of peach blossoms and chewing gum, sweetness and softness. happy dreams.
yeah, that’s right. he has no choice but to melt into your touch, nuzzle into your chest, fall asleep to the sound of your heartbeat. 
no choice at all.
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elizzsush · 1 month
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The Mask | Jason Todd X Reader
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Red Hood X Villain Reader
— in which you, a shy nerdy vigilante/Wayne family obsessed barista- is actually a villain that torments the Red Hood at night.
AU: Soulmate (bc I can)
Rating: Sfw
Note: Y/N is based off of Furina from Genshin bc I thought this would be fun and I saw a prompt somewhere, I think? It’s just my interpretation of it as to not step on anyone's toes!
Also, this isn't really a imagine. It's more of an Idea I was thinking of and needed to get out of my head! So that's why it's kind of not finished? Most of my stuff is WIPs anyway so this isn't really new.
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You were a popular villain.
People loved you. Maybe not the theft and distraction you caused but hey- we all have flaws? “I will teach this city the true meaning of Justice!” You’d boldly claim standing on the stage that was Gotham city’s tallest building- scarily close to the edge. “Join me- and together we’ll cleanse this city of its evil and corrupt ways!” You’d state so boldly.
You loved for the attention, the lights- cameras and reporters. That’s why the red hood could only shake his head. Another psychopath spewing their ideology like it should be praised- like it was the absolute truth.
Spoiler alert, it wasn’t.
The world wasn’t black and white enough for an ideology to trump all the others and ‘cleanse this city’. Fuck, not this city- not even close. Gotham was just in too deep. Too much crime, too much of a drug problem or a poverty problem- too much of everything. The joker was a prime example of that. The evil of this city boiled up into one twisted person… Anyway, you were an attention seeker, classic villain profile. Does it for attention- maybe mommy or daddy didn’t give you enough love? It didn’t matter. What happened was you were breaking the law and Jason was still on Bruce’s keep an eye on list. So, he’d keep his hands off the bigger more horrible criminals.
Still sometimes, only sometimes, he'd find himself listening a little too closely to your ideals- Like you believed in the death penalty for Gotham hardest to kill roach: The joker.
So, while Red Hood was chasing you... Well, it'd started off small, you’d steal from the rich of Gotham- sometimes even Bruce Wayne himself. -Those days Jason found himself chasing after you slower, not that he’d admit that. It was a classic Robin Hood situation and Jason… didn’t know how to feel about it. On one hand you were breaking the law, in the other, power to the people. Eat the rich.
Jason knew how it felt to grow up struggling so too see you helping people? It was almost nice.
What annoyed him though was your loud, for the people persona. “I will judge all of Gotham! Batman himself can’t escape my judgment!” Okay, slow down… you were fast and agile, but Batman would be able to catch you. And if Jason really put his back into it, he could too. Still, that never stopped you from making bold claims. It garnered attention, it was bold and daring and just what the people wanted. Your ideal matched up with what so many people were fed up with the batman for.
Eventually your behavior began to escalate. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep the Bats eyes from you. “This is a cult...” He muttered while he hides away on the roof of an abandoned building you holed your followers up in for a speech.
“My loyal follower!” You’d greet them with a smile and a bow. You’d put in stage performances. Sometimes with Jason, except he never knew, and the performance was just you and him fighting on the stage. Most days, some days it seemed it was just you acting and being alive on that large stage. Others you were preaching your words to the cult your loyal followers. You were building an empire and catching the attention of other criminals.
An empire that while he agreed with, went against the bats no kill rule. The longer you stood on that stage the less safe from the bat you were.
And no matter how much he wanted to agree with you, a small part of him still wanted... something from batman. You would be an issue.
“How much longer do I have to do this…?”
Red hood was no detective, but he was raised by the greatest one. So, while he was lacking in that department compared to the rest of his family (Even if it was just by a smidge.) He still noticed how after a speech or a fight- your smile, no, your persona dropped.
It was a persona you probably garnered for attention.
but still...
So how…
…That just didn’t make sense.
“Can I have your autograph…? Please?” A civilian would ask shyly, hiding behind a Batman themed phone case with a Robin themed charm hanging from that same phone.
The worst part of it all? You didn’t ask for the Red Hoods autograph. You asked for Jason Todd’s autograph, you were a fan of the Wayne’s. Gotham's golden family. No actually, it was the way you jumped up and down eagerly when you thought he was far enough way and did a dumb victory dance.
He sighed and leaned against the alleys stone wall as he watched you leave. A sense of worry invaded his mind as he watched you in your nerdy and totally lame Superman shirt walking away. All while staring at your phone.
He was surprised you recognized him. He was never in the public spotlight- maybe here and there when he was younger. Not now, not anymore. His death and how vague it was left question. Ones people didn’t ask when he wasn’t there, dangling in front of them like bait to a fish, they’d ask why and how and while they had a cover up: One the bat, the world's greatest detective made up. It still was messy. You must be a real fan.
He wasn’t even sure if that was really you…
It had to be though, there was no mistaking it. So, with your civilian name in his head, he walked back home.
“…so… lonely…” `
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zaruba-needslove · 2 years
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Due to recent issue with some people arguing about how ‘AO3 should have algorithm’ and such... I feel like these tweets need to be shared out more. Saw this tweets thread by chance and I had to admit it's a great advice esp on fic writing or fanworks in general.
[Edit] Also since I noticed this post blowing up, if anyone ever tell you that AO3 doesn’t have a function to RECCOMMEND fics you like to others or read other people’s fic recs on the site point them to this post.
[Edit 2] Check source for the original tweet.
[Edit 3] Not OP, but usually when ppl talk about ‘rude or demanding comments’ it usually refers to those that tend to message fanwriters to write according to what they want to be either on the flow of the plot, shipping, etc to the point of harrassment/toxicity. And that would make writing not be fun anymore for some. 
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mothwingwritings · 4 months
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Basic Maintenance
F!Reader X Jack Hanma
Hello everyone! Back at it with a new (maybe old, as I started this forever ago lol) Jack piece! I suppose you could call this a personal piece, I began it purely as a way to vent as I myself REALLY fucking hate going to the gynecologist and I had a pending appointment at the time. So as any sane person would do when faced with having to do something they despise, I wrote this to cope! Who wouldn’t recreate a moment in time you despise, embellished to be much worse than it actually was by starring your favorite fictional characters being horrible so you can live out the whole ordeal all over again but ~sexier~?
Anyway, here it is! Hope you enjoy it!
No explicit sex, but due to the subject material this fic is 18+ please!
Warnings: LOTS of genitalia talk in this one, readers vag is truly the star of the show here. Also heavy talk about doctors and medical procedures, specifically a pap smear, so if that icks you please be mindful! Also within is noncon mentions/past noncon, unhealthy relationships, yandere themes, kidnapped reader, abused reader, spicy reader (you have a bit of a tude in this but honestly its warranted), some language.
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“Do you really have to be in here for this?”
Your irritation grew as you glowered at the man leaning nonchalantly in the corner, looking completely at ease as his back rested against the sterile wall of the doctor’s office. Maybe ‘hunched’ was a more suitable way to describe his posture, his mass taking up so much space that his head grazed the ceiling of the compact room, forcing him into an unnatural position. Jack’s face was impassive, eyes tightly closed as his arms crossed loosely over his chest, waiting patiently with you for the doctor’s arrival. He was so still that if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he had fallen asleep.
“Yes,” came his gruff reply, bronze eyes cracking open to lock on to yours, “Now stop asking. It will be over soon.”
You sighed heavily, kicking your feet lazily as they dangled off the medical bench. It was a battle you had lost before it even began, but that wasn’t going to stop you from voicing your complaints. Jack let you be alone for all your other medical appointments, so you didn’t understand why this one needed to be any different.
You were naked save for the baggy, dusty pink, medical gown that had been left for you to change into. While Jack had insisted on being in the room when you changed, he had shockingly granted you privacy while putting it on, turning his large body away the entire time you were undressed. It wasn’t as if you had anything left to hide from him (your nude form was something he had witnessed countless times before), but you had mentioned offhandedly that there was something particularly irksome about his unwavering stare in the confines of a hospital room, a place that was supposed to be private and confidential, that upset you-especially when you had to undress. He must have actually taken those words in to consideration, which was honestly more than you could have hoped for.
You grimaced when you accidentally rammed your fidgety legs into the unfolded feet stirrups that were lying in wait. Though it hurt you made no noise, only frowning at the uncomfortable reminder of the procedure that would be momentarily taking place. Glancing over at Jack amplified the pain, and you wished that at the very least he would grant you privacy for the intrusive process that was about to take place. But wishing amounted to nothing, and so you were left waiting in a heavy silence with Jack not too far off, the pit in your stomach threatening to swallow you whole.
The entirety of your life had become monitored by Jack, his ever present watchful eye making sure you were following the stringent rules he had set in place to keep you ‘safe.’ Safe from what you didn’t know, as you felt like little more than a prisoner the entire time you were in his care, locked in captivity with no means of interacting with the outside world other than what Jack deemed fit. Unsurprisingly, this turned out to be barely, if any, interaction at all. Due to this, your days had become a blur, each one resembling the next, melding into a mass of uniform discontent and boredom. All you had was Jack and the walls in which he had encapsulated you, all you had to look forward to was the hope that each day would somehow be a little less abysmal than the last.
However you had learned quickly that voicing too many complaints would only make things worse for you, leaving you to bite the bullet time and again in an effort to not set off this tyrant. If Jack was satiated, at least that meant you could achieve some normalcy in your daily life, even if it was just a crumb. Sacrificing your happiness and free-will had become the price you must pay to retain your sanity, to survive.
And now here you were, on one of his many forced check-ups that were scheduled far more frequently than was actually necessary. Your health had become his obsession, which you found rather peculiar given how much he seemed to disregard his own. Regardless, making sure you were fit and well was very important to him, much more so than looking after his own body. He poured himself into your maintenance with the gusto of a man whose life passion was fixing up old cars, making sure you were fine-tuned and running as you should, looking as pretty on the inside as the outside, it quickly became one of his greatest passions. After all, what was he to do if the love of his life fell ill with some mysterious wasting disease or ended up getting severely hurt? He refused to even entertain the thought of anything that could potentially end your life, and thus started going above and beyond to make sure you would be stuck with him for a very long time.
In all honesty, you usually didn’t mind the abundant health checks that much. It was a chance to get out of that god forsaken apartment he cooped you up in, and better yet, it offered rare moments where you could talk with other human beings without having Jack’s immense presence lingering over your shoulder.
But today was different. Today was the first time that you would be seen for something besides your normal check-up, instead partaking in a different kind of examination, one that was a bit more intimate than all the others previous.
Now that the two of you were sexually active (regardless of if that was something you had wanted and/or agreed to or not), Jack found it prudent that you start getting checkups that catered to those sexual proclivities. Thus, he wasted no time in setting up your first gynecological visit since he had taken you in, pleased with himself that he had the foresight to cover all of your medical bases. You guessed this new sudden fixation was his attempt to show you that in his own way he cared, that he wanted to do all he could to make sure you were healthy in every way you could be. But you also knew it was equally important to him to keep you in good physical condition from all the brutal fucking he had done to you, as you needed to be in one piece for when he continued to mercilessly ravage you in the future.
How thoughtful.
And when it came down to anything medical, Doctor Kureha seemed to be the only one Jack entrusted you with. It made sense to an extent, while Jack normally despised anyone but himself being in your presence, he was particularly adverse to people he didn’t already know. This went doubly for medical professionals that could very well be holding your life in their hands, he’d die before he let some unknown quack even breath in your general vicinity, let alone touch you.
But he knew Kureha and could personally vouch for his medical expertise, so in that regard making him your primary care physician was a no brainer. Deeper still, he could trust Kureha to not air his dirty laundry. The alarming signs of Jack’s passion that riddled your body would be a major red flag for any medical professional that saw them, and any outsider that spotted them would surely start asking questions the moment they laid eyes upon them. Only Kureha could be trusted to keep them mum, it was guaranteed. After all, if the good doctor even so much as made a suggestive comment to another person about the state you were in, Jack had more than enough dirt on the man to swiftly and efficiently end his career (and the muscle power to end his life, should it come to that).
Even with the questionable foundation of your relationship, you truly liked Kureha. You’d even go so far as to say that you considered him a friend, or at least as close to a friend as you can have under Jack’s suffocating surveillance. While going to a doctor’s office for any reason wasn’t particularly fun, you couldn’t help but begin to view the hospital where he worked as an oasis of sorts. It was clean, quiet, and within its glaringly white walls you could almost forget the nightmare your life had become, getting lost in the aseptic-ness of it all.
Kureha made pleasant company as well. You were weary of him at first, as it was hard not to be leery of any person Jack introduced to you. The fact that Jack willingly initiated an interaction between you and one of his associates was suspicious in and of itself, as prior to meeting Kureha he had never made any attempt to tell you about his friends, family, or anyone else that may be in his life.
When he explained that the person he wanted you to meet was a doctor, a specific image came to mind. Maybe they would be an older man, graying hair, kindly and smart. Picturing the mystery man as a fatherly type of figure made your heart hurt a bit, yearning for your own family that you had long since been exempt from seeing. These feelings also made you a bit eager to meet him, hoping to find comfort or camaraderie in this other person’s potentially trustworthy presence.
You certainly were not expecting the Adonis of a man who ended up greeting you.
The thing you recalled the most from your initial meeting with Kureha was how off-putting it was. His well-built, stocky body stood before you with an outstretched hand, his chiseled face framed in lusciously flowing auburn locks as his pouty, full lips offered a casual greeting. The polite smile that lit his criminally pretty face clashed heavily with the image you had pictured in your head, causing a brief moment of whiplash that left you speechless. The conflict between imagined and factual was so jarring in fact, that you nearly laughed out loud the moment you saw him, his strange presentation making you feel like you had wound up as the female lead of some kind of prime-time doctor drama. Appearance aside however, he was calm and mature, speaking to you like the intelligent adult you actually were, which was a breath of fresh air from the dismissive and childish treatment you typically received from Jack. Being in the presence of someone who treated you as an independent human had become a foreign feeling, but a welcome and celebrated one nonetheless.
As time passed and your visits to him grew more frequent, you began to see why Jack relied on Kureha so much. The doctor wasn’t just a pretty face, his medical prowess truly was top notch and he did an excellent job helping you monitor your health and kept you in good shape. His guidance and diagnosis were always spot on and easy to understand, and he had a way with words that made you comprehend his medical jargon without leaving you feeling like a dummy. It was by far the best medical assistance you had ever received, and you decided that should you one day be magically rid of Jack’s influence, it would be worth it to still seek out Kureha for any pending health concerns, even if it meant risking running into your brute of a captor.
But Doctor Kureha was not a gynecologist, and above all, he was a man. Why Jack, someone who was so painstakingly territorial of you, would pick a male to do this particular task was lost to you. Every OBGYN you had visited in the past had been a female doctor, and you honestly sort of preferred it that way. And though you voiced this to Jack, he remained adamant that since Kureha was already aware of your medical history, he was more than capable of taking care of this as well.
A nagging voice inside your brain kept telling you the REAL reason he was so bent on Kureha doing this procedure was to negate the risk it involved. Even if Kureha brought in another doctor who had reproductive health as their area of expertise, a doctor Kureha himself could vouch for that would keep their mouth shut, it was just too precarious of a situation for Jack’s liking. Any outside source that got up close and personal with your most abused area would realize instantly what Jack had been subjugating you to and their conscious could compel them to do something. The last thing Jack wanted was someone trying to play hero, and since Kureha had already seen the rest of the damage on your body and not said a word, it meant he was just as likely to stay silent when encountering the extent of defilement that had been inflicted on your more private areas.
You figured Jack and Kureha had some form of agreement between the two of them, that no matter how battered you came in to his office, nothing would be reported. You were not privy to the details of this agreement, nor did you know how formal it was. All you knew was that Kureha was always there to patch you up, keep you together, and offer a kind word or two, but he never made a move to try and remove you from the situation. No matter how perilous the aftermath appeared or how much your friendship progressed, he stayed in his lane and turned a blind eye to what mattered most.
So while you appreciated Kureha, you also realized you could never fully trust him.
“Well here we are again.”
Kureha’s entrance tore you from your thoughts, your eyes instantly darting to the stately man as he closed the door softly behind him. Looking as immaculate as ever, Kureha greeted Jack with a small nod before turning to you with a smile, which you reciprocated in kind. You couldn’t help but note the small scowl that sat upon Jacks lips, no doubt brought on by the familiarity the two of you shared.
“It’s good to see you again (Name),” he spoke as he made his way over to the seat beside you, waking up his computer so that he could access your medical records. “How long has it been? At least two days? That must be a new record.”
“Very funny,” Jack cut in, completely unamused by Kureha’s light teasing. He straightened his posture as much as the small room would allow, shooting the doctor a wry look. “We came here for a procedure, not your quips.”
Kureha sighed, “Of course, forgive me for trying to lighten the mood.” Turning his attentions back your way, he gave you another smile, “’Quips’ aside, how have you been feeling (name)? It really hasn’t been that long since our last appointment, was there anything particular that sparked the need for this visit today, or…?”
His voice trailed off, as he was already well aware this meeting was most likely not of your own choosing, but another of Jack’s heavy handed assertions. You squirmed on the medical chair, the protective paper beneath your rear irritating the bare flesh it came in contact with.
Before you could open your mouth to respond, Jack spoke on your behalf.
“She is fine,” his words were clipped and to the point, “As stated, we came here for a simple procedure as part of a routine check-up. I think we would both appreciate it if you just got on with it.”
“Yes, I am sure you would,” Kureha scoffed, slight irritation reflected in his voice, “But I was not addressing you Jack, I was asking (Name). And contrary to your beliefs, she will have a more accurate synapsis of what is going on with her own body than you will.”
Jack huffed, puffing up his chest in indignation. But he remained silent, promptly shut up by Kureha’s firm statement. For that alone you could kiss him.
“I’m feeling alright,” you respond simply, “the same as always, more or less... I don’t mean to be rude Dr. Shinogi, but this time Jack is right. I am kind of in a hurry to get this over with.” You frowned, repositioning yourself on the crinkly paper seat once more. “These kinds of visits aren’t my favorite.”
A blush crept on your cheeks as you spoke the words, embarrassed by your own admission. As if this whole ordeal wasn’t invasive enough, you also couldn’t avoid the fact that this was one of your least favorite medical procedures of all time.  Spreading yourself open for the whole world to see, perched on an uncomfortable chair while you awkwardly draped yourself across its stiff foamy surface, feet held back in stirrups as a doctor scraped away at your insides haphazardly, none of it was an enjoyable experience for you. The mere thought made you want to clamp your legs shut and scuttle out of the office, bee lining it straight back to the train station. You never thought you would long for the solitude of Jacks stuffy abode, but there was a first time for everything.
It also didn’t help that Jack refused to budge, adamant he stick around for the whole procedure. Knowing that he would be in the room, looming in the background as he bore witness to the whole excruciating ordeal, just made it THAT much worse.
Kureha acknowledged you with a hum, “Well if it’s any reassurance, I plan to make this as painless and as quick as possible. I can’t imagine that any of this is particularly pleasant for you, so I can understand where your reservations are coming from.”
He turned to Jack, shooting him a knowing look, “And though I am beyond confident in my doctoral abilities, I would like to remind the intrusive party in this room that this particular request is not my area of expertise. I will be efficient and gentle with miss (Name), but I may lack the accuracy of an expert in the field. Disclaimer aside, I would appreciate it if back seat commentary is kept to a minimum.”
“As long as you don’t waste any time and do the job well, you won’t be giving me a reason to voice any complaints,” Jack’s clipped voice threatened, “Now, can we begin please?”
Kureha’s eyes met yours, “Whenever you are ready, place our feet in the stirrups. We’ll proceed from there.”
Taking a deep breath to ground yourself, your shaky legs parted, granting Kureha access so that the procedure could begin. His large hands guided your legs into the holsters with ease, and he shot you one last reassuring smile before he grabbed his tools.
“I’d offer you a blanket for some privacy,” Kureha’s kept his voice low to keep the conversation between the two of you, “But our guest made it abundantly clear that he wanted to see what I am doing at all times. I apologize.”
You gave a curt nod, acknowledging his apology as earnest, but also realizing the good doctor had done nothing but enable Jack’s uncouth behavior this entire time. Not that it mattered at this point, all you could pray was that he at least remained true to his promise of speed and efficiency.
“Just hurry up. Please.”
With no further prodding, Kureha set to work. You cringed as you felt cold steel begin to spread you, your discomfort mounting when his tools entered shortly after. Jack pushed himself off the wall, stepping closer so that he could get a better view of what was being done to your body. Bending down so he could monitor Kureha’s actions accordingly, you squeezed your eyes tightly closed, refusing to add Jack’s beady, unwavering stare to your torment.
As warned, Kureha was not as skilled in this field as you would have liked. His typically nimble fingers seemed to fumble with the tools in hand, the prodding and clawing at your delicate insides causing tears to spring to your eyes. In an effort to keep from crying out you bit into your bottom lip, gnawing at the reddened flesh to quiet yourself. However squeaks of discomfort still managed to slip from your throat, sharp intakes of breath punctuating his hasty motions. Sweaty fists balled around the gaudy surgical gown, tugging it so roughly you could feel the fabric give under the strain. A particularly rough jerk of Kureha’s hand sent a wave of pain through you, your whimpers becoming a full on groan. Reflexively your legs tried to snap shut, your body subconsciously trying to push itself as far from the doctor as you could get, inching up the table in an effort to escape.
“You’re hurting her.
Jack’s growl cut through the air, an edge to it warning Kureha to watch himself. Kureha clicked his tongue, shooting a quick look over his shoulder.
“I wasn’t joking about the back seat commentary,” he retorted, “I’m aware of her irritation, hence why I am moving as fast as I can. I would advise against distracting me further to make the process as easy as possible for her,” he sighed deeply, fixing his attention back your way, “Besides, from the looks of things down here it’s clear she has suffered worse. I would even hazard the reason it hurts her so bad right now is in no small part your fault.”
Jack snarled, intense anger radiating from his presence as he leered over the doctor. It was obvious Kureha’s words had cut deep, the unspoken rule that he never judge Jack’s actions easily broken by his barbed statement. Finally turning your attention to Jack, you grimaced as your squinting eyes watched him open his mouth, primed to release a fiery retort.
“I’m fine,” your sharp voice interrupted their banter, words strained as they were forced from your clenched jaw, “Please, please, just hurry up.”
Kureha’s expression shifted, a softer look flitting across his features as your plea dragged him back to the matter at hand, “I apologize (Name), that was childish way to respond, please forgive me. We are nearly done. Please just hang in there a moment longer.”
True to his words, after a few quick swipes (all of which when executed brought about varying degrees of soreness), the procedure concluded.  You had never been happier to close your legs in your entire life (and given your life’s circumstances, that was saying something).
“And we’re done,” Kureha exhaled, quickly clearing his tools away. He shot you a quick smile as he got to his feet, “You did very well, (Name). I’m sorry my touch wasn’t the softest this go-around, but I appreciate what a good sport you were through the entire procedure. You may bleed for a bit afterwards, which is quite normal. Though it may be hard for the two of you, try and lay off any strenuous activity to the area for at least a day or two, alright?”
A bright blush illuminated your cheeks the moment the words left his lips. Whether he meant them to be or not, they felt mocking and derisive, and hearing them left you feeling as if you were both an ill-tempered child who no one expected to make it through such a procedure with so little fuss, and some manner of sex-crazed harlot that couldn’t go a day without getting any.
“You sure love to talk, don’t you?” Jacks gruff voice chided, making it apparent that Kureha’s loaded words still bothered him. The air between the two of them remained charged with a bristling, negative energy, but with the ordeal finally over with, Jack’s rage was slightly beginning to subside. No doubt he was just pleased that he could finally take you home and have you all to himself. “Are you such an accusatory smartass to all your patients?”
“Just the ones I really like,” Kureha shot him a smug grin, causing Jack’s jaw to clench, “but I am serious. Definitely no sexual activity tonight and tomorrow as well, if you can stand it.”
Kureha reached out his hand, placing it firmly atop your head, giving it a small scrub. “And I mean it when I said you did well. I couldn’t have asked for a better patient! If I had a lollipop or something to give you right now to congratulate you, I most certainly would.”
He laughed at his own joke, but the sound of it only caused your ego to suffer more.
Curling in on yourself to hide your vulnerable state, you shook your head to dispel Kureha’s unwanted attention. Your words came out icy as you shot the two men an equally chilling look. “I don’t need hollow praise, I just need some privacy so I can change back into my normal clothes.” When both men refused to budge, instead staring at you blankly with wide eyes suggesting your frosty demeanor shocked them, you sighed in annoyance, “Please?”
Kureha was the first to comply, turning on his heel to briskly head towards the exit. On his way out, he motioned towards jack, signaling him to follow. “Come on Jack, it’s rude to make a lady beg.”
Jack hesitated a moment before following suit, his hulking form stopping momentarily in the door way to address you one final time.
“Just be quick about it. I want to get you out of here and back home as quickly as possible.”
Hopping to your feet, you made your way over to your rumpled clothing that sat discarded on one of the uninviting metal waiting room chairs. You rolled your eyes as you snatched them up, impatiently waiting for Jack to step away so you could finally get out of the thin gown that covered you.
“You and me both,” you murmured under your breath, stuffing your lower half into your pants as fast as physically possible, “If I never have to go through this again, it would be too soon.”
~
You were thankful that the train was nearly empty when you boarded it, making it easy to find a space in the back that was far removed from other passengers. Though you would typically revel in this opportunity to be amongst other people, right now the only thing you wanted was to be left alone.
The office was not terribly far from where you lived, so Jack usually opted to walk to the hospital instead of taking any transport. But today’s trip had worn you out and left you feeling sore and irritable, so while  he wasn’t thrilled by the prospect of public transportation (too many eyes on you he’d say, even though it was his stature that drew the true attention), in an act of mercy he offered the train as a means of getting home. Of course he had offered to just carry you home first, but the look you gave him at the suggestion was enough to wise him up, bringing up the train as a happy alternative. Thankful to finally have a place to sit and enjoy some quiet for a moment, the tension in your body began to lessen, and you felt as if at least momentarily you could begin to relax.
… At least, you wished you could relax. Jack’s towering form, which was already a suffocating presence in and of itself, was even more smothering as he sat directly beside you. You were wedged in between him and the window, his broad shoulders and spread legs cramping your already limited space. If his bouncing leg and repeated exhales weren’t enough of a giveaway that something was bothering him, the muscled arms petulantly crossed over his chest and a deep set scowl on his face as he shot you numerous hurried glances really brought the fact home.
At first you tried to ignore him, but as the minutes ticked by it became clear to you he wasn’t going to bring up the issue himself, nor was he going to drop the matter and leave you be. This left you with no other choice besides confrontation.
“What is it,” the irritation was clear in your voice as you questioned him. “This whole adventure was your idea, and now it’s bothering you? If you hated the outcome so much, why make me go?”
“I didn’t hate the outcome,” he responded, shifting a bit in his seat as he cleared his throat, “It was a necessary procedure and I am glad we had it done. I’m pleased that you seem more or less healthy down there.”
You scoffed at Jack’s interpretation of Kureha’s assessment of the damage his ‘love’ had done to your body, a reaction he chose to ignore as he continued, “But still, I guess maybe I did have my concerns.”
“…Concerns?”
 You perked up, taken aback by his words. The way he spoke them sounded borderline remorseful,  as if being faced with the irrefutable proof of how violently he has treated you, witnessing firsthand the lasting injury his careless assaults have caused and the suffering that has come with it, began to open his eyes. Could he finally be feeling remorse? Could this day of suffering and embarrassment truly have ended up having such a silver lining?
Several agonizing seconds passed as you hung on baited breath, excited for the first time in a long time to hear what Jack had to say.
“It’s just…” His voice trailed off for moment, his expression contorting in a display of varying emotions, musing over how to word his response. After another brief moment of silence he continued with a sigh, tripping over his tense words awkwardly, as if he were embarrassed to speak them.
“It’s just that when he was working on you … Well, the expressions you made when he was going inside of you… They were the same ones you sometimes make when we are making love, so I was concerned maybe you were, you know… enjoying it.”
As you noted the barely perceptible blush that flushed Jacks cheeks throughout his explanation, you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Internally screaming, you chided yourself. What a fool you were, thinking you may actually be receiving an honest apology from this man.
Anger began to creep over you, causing your body to slightly quake. You grimaced as his words stewed in your head, the absurdity of his misconception causing your world to spin. Of course you would be making the same expression when he fucked you as you did at the doctors office- the extreme and unwanted discomfort from either act was one in the same. Only an idiot like Jack would come to the conclusion that your face was contorted in a look of ecstasy instead of the agony you were actually experiencing, lying there spread eagle on the doctors table while you were being chiseled away at.
“No Jack,” you spat at him, seething words to match the daggers shooting from your eyes, “I did not fucking get off at my gyno appointment when Kureha was shoving clamps and other utensils up inside my body, picking away at my innards so he could get tissue samples. Sorry to let you down, but it wasn’t really my idea of a sexy encounter, asshole.”
As you were about to boil over with barely contained rage, you mirrored Jack by crossing your arms, doing your best to hold yourself together as you averted your gaze from him. Keeping things civil was tremendously hard, but you were smart enough to realize causing a scene in public would in no way help you right now.
After several moments of silence had passed, your eyes flicked to Jack’s reflection in the mirror, hoping to gauge his emotional state after your tempestuous outburst. He typically didn’t take kindly to your attitude, especially when it was coupled with name calling. Surely the venom you spewed wouldn’t be taken sitting down, and while the thought of an angry Jack usually terrified you, today you couldn’t make yourself care. In fact, you hoped your small tantrum HAD upset him, wanting him to feel a smidge of the pain he forced you through daily. You may not be able to ever harm Jack physically, but if there was one thing you did have power over, it was his feelings. Despite his tough persona, you were acutely aware that any malice you directed his way wounded him, causing him more grief than he would ever willingly state. And you suspected that this display of your lividity was the perfect attack to take him down a few pegs.
But surprise took you when your eyes landed on his likeness, seeing that instead of an angry glower or wounded frown, a content smile sat upon his lips. His tensed shoulders had relaxed, his entire posture now much more poised and at ease as he sat next to you. He even lazily draped an arm over the back of your seat, his fingers idily stretching out to play with any rogue strands of your hair they brushed against.
“Good,” he spoke pleasantly, “Glad to know I have nothing to worry about. I’ll just have to work harder next time to make you really lose yourself, so you can show me expressions only I will ever see. That way there will be no confusion in the future.”
Your frown deepened as the shit eating grin spreading across his lips grew. It seemed that this time, as always, Jack had won.
“Of course we’ll have to wait a day or two for me to hone my skill, which is unfortunate. But look at the bright side baby, gives me time to come up with some new ideas that will really drive you wild, right?”
God you hated him.
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ambrosiagourmet · 7 months
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going to the Marcille & Laios unspoken mutual understanding and casual physical intimacy store. does anyone want anything.
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u5an5 · 10 months
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Am I the only one that every time I get myself into new fandom I just sigh, knowing fully well that I just got next 20+ x reader, y/n, x Oc!whateverthefuck or just any form of self insert tags to blacklist?
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kandicon · 6 months
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*writes the same exact headcannons in slightly different scenarios over and over again*
#it all comes back to my unicron-spawn Starscream and my quintesson-built Jazz#today I worked a little on us Starscream and qb Jazz becoming friends and getting a absurdly similar dynamic to how I write Prowl and Jazz#but I stopped that to work on a memory loss fic w that Jazz fighting his way from autobots to Starscream bc he was the only one who he#trusted with a complete memory back up as another not-cybertronian#and I stopped THAT to work on a qb Jazz/Prowl fic where it's non-essential no pain killer surgery that Prowl has to do on Hazx bc he refuses#to go to medics. partially bc the surgery is completely unsafe in any firm and partly bc qb Jazz doesn't want anyone else to know what he is#(and Prowl barely knows either)#but I only got a few sentences into that b4 I went to do an Autobot!DJD (AJD?) torture scene w qb Jazz where the nameless character to die#manages to tear open his chest while fighting back and finds nothing inside#BUT that's rlly similar 2 a fic where I've done the same thing w Starscream (the chest discovery in a scuffle bit) so I reread that before#I got distracted thinking abt my Starop fic that's all Starscream doesn't have a spark because he's a ghost Optimus Prime doesn't have a#spark because he's a lab experiment gone rogue. Misunderstandings ensue. which I adore but have no idea how to fit a plot into#so bc I couldn't think of anything more than a few sentences for that I went to my fic where ALL of the command trine formed from Unicron#but Skywarp and Thundercracker died early and Starscream spends millions of years searching all of cybertron and hoping Vector Sigma#reincarnation works for unicronians too. biiiig depression angst fic. I can't decide if I want it to end in Starscream self-inducing stasis#in one of Vector Sigma's chambers or whether I want it to end w Starscream brutally murdering the new trine member the reincarnated versions#of Skywarp and Thundercracker were made with (who ftr would be Sun Storm)#n that fic reminded me of that one rewritting of the Starscream's Ghost ep where Starscream catches a glimpse of Scourge and immediately#attacks. it's barely a fight because in seconds SS is ripping through layers of armor desperately searching for Thundercracker beneath the#shell Unicron gave him. He needs Thundercracker to be there (he isn't). Only when his claws have gone completely thru Scourge's back does he#round on the armada- only to completely ignore Cyclonus and go for one of his clones (Skywarp)#and that reminded me of- *gunshots*#do u see why I only ever manage to post ponies?? I have less ideas w them so I actually finish.#I'm worried of hitting tag limit but I have plenty more of even less fleshed out fics for us Starscream and qb Jazz#(I barely said half of what's in my writing docs)
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igarbagecannoteven · 2 months
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hi!! just read your cake at the craft store fic and thought I'd introduce myself on here :) you're a talented writer and seem like a lovely person!
oh my gosh thank you so much! that's so sweet of you 🥰i'm so glad you enjoyed my work! (and thank you so much for the lovely comment on ao3!) also love your handles on both ao3 and here, i'm a big fan of herons myself 😊
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matty-bear · 6 months
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guys i got so desperate for nick fics that i went to wattpad … i cant bro never again these ads are pissing me tf off
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paper-cities · 4 months
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But how obsessed are we talking here?
Uhhm. Basically I've known them for like a month and I would die for them. Does this answer the question
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brittlebutch · 13 days
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officially 10K into this fic and having a realization about where I'm at on characterization so far, so i'm wondering:
#N posts stuff#i'm like. this first draft is really the writing equivalent of layout sketching: which characters are where / what's the scene About#with the expectation that the second draft will have the building blocks there to build up specific characterization further#but i'm realizing that i am in fact SO broad strokes on the characters so far that i'd need to do extensive studying#of the source material to really hammer in the characterization in a way that i would be satisfied with. a task that at this point#likely wouldn't be very fun. so i had a moment of 'oh idek if i'll be able to finish writing this fic :(' and got sad about it#which was where the 'oh. actually if i'm That loose on characterization right now I could just. shift the characters in#Whatever ways i want them to go and just make them OCs instead of fanfic...' which would actually be like. technically speaking#a Lot more fun bc this fic is so self-indulgent that i keep having moments where i'm pulling back on other elements i'd want to#incorporate into the fic bc 'if it's Too self-indulgent with numerous headcanons it won't be Good to fandom readers'#(ie the character who would Really vibe being a furry and the other begging to be a tgirl)#it Might wind up being something we do no matter what but i am still curious if there would be like. an actual audience for it#and not just something i'm doing all for myself lol; i used to make a LOT of ocs but haven't really done it in Years nd Years#i had a 'no way' moment but i Have had multiple people tell me they read my fics Regardless of whether they've seen source#material or not. so tentatively hopeful the answer is yes? but i'm curious :3
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seijorhi · 11 months
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Rhi!!!!!! What do you think about yandere!kageyama based off his canon haikyuu character?
who is kageyama??
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actualbird · 11 months
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n/s//f///w text/discussion below the cut about my upcoming fics
so im participating in thirst of themis' november smut prompt challenge event. here are the daily prompts
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and here are my planned fics
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star emoji means new fic, recycle emoji means repost (cuz thirst of themis allows that). meawhile the other emojis mean ships and
i feel a bit insane for planning FOUR NEW FICS to release in november but right now im making great time because i already finished the first one!!! which is a very rare TOP!LUKE FIC FROM ME i know im surprised too
anyhoo, for anybody out there who likes my smut fics: look forward to november!! i hope to finish a bunch of what ive got planned (best case scenario is that i finish all of them but HAHA ive failed at keeping up with month prompt challenges before so if i even get....2 out of 4 fics done, im considering that a success already) so i hope to make a bunch of smut that somebody will hopefully enjoy ;w;
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cutemeat · 2 years
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Your tags about charlie poisoning dee and frank compel me to mention that everytime someone mentions “dennis is a serial killer” near me I want to respond with “It’s more likely quick to anger and prone to rash decision making and holding grudges Charlie with his in depth knowledge of the sewer sytems and off the grid living would be a more prolific serial killer.”
NO STOP I . LITERALLY NO JOKE THAT IS MY EXACT SAME THOUGHT PROCESS LMAOOOOO-
CHARLIE BEING A SERIAL KILLER IS SO MUCH MORE FUN TO PLAY WITH. Like its ALL these little things in canon- HIS KNOWLEDGE OF THE SEWER SYSTEMS/LIVING OFF THE GRID YESSS, his comment about Jamie Nelson drowning being said with what seems like... fondness???, the "Bad Room", his writing The Nightman Cometh all as a scheme to try n pressure the Waitress into accepting his proposal by making a play that's like "see i had a bad childhood so u should just forgive me for everything! im not so bad after all!!", the fact that his job requires him to slip into a dissociative state in order to constantly mercilessly maim living creatures that he canonically resonates/identifies with, his ability to manipulate people with ease in general with his initial charm, the various parallels made between Charlie and characters like Patrick Bateman and Norman Bates and Buffalo Bill....,
like idc i think charlie as a serial killer would be Way more interesting... just think abt Charlie Catches a Leprechaun! he's a natural! and it's so hypnotizing watching the man work that u kinda GO ALONG WITH IT until the rest of the gang snaps us out of it,
also i do think Charlie Day is very smart writing-wise and he'd totally think up a character like this that is a subversion of that "harmless manchild" trope and turn it on its head by giving it a pretty grim ending... like . he's 100% smart enough and talented to pull smth like that off LOL
and i dont want ppl to take this as me trying to trash Charlie, cuz as I just said-- that is an extremely difficult kind of character to pull off!!!! Talk about a slow burn.... I am fuckin praising the man for his writing/performance of Charlie Kelly cuz he is so fucking convoluted and complex n im obsessed and a twist like this would just b the cherry on top
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draxua · 2 months
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Need to write but I have no motivation to write.
Burnt out by doing nothing
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