#so many new characters to thirst over

[antiquesleep]

my morning warm up today

[elysiansparadise]

In a world where everything seems superficial, they seek to get to the truth and know the essence behind everything.

Sagittarius Rising: The Wanderer

There is an air of mystery in their relaxed and contemplative appearance. Natives with a strong physique, gifted with the charisma and wisdom of Jupiter, these natives tend to look older when they are young and younger when older. A charming enigma, they can go from being hilarious, witty and jovial, to being rational, analytical and observant. An insatiable thirst to see beyond appearances, seemingly perfect systems and the masks people seem to wear. Strong will and mind, endowed with courage and bravery, no obstacle seems greater if they take a look at everything that forged them. They are people devoted to the beliefs they have and, no matter how open-minded, making them change their minds is not an easy task. Adventurous and curious when something catches their attention, rooted when making a decision. An inquisitive mind with idealistic overtones, a strong need for independence and a character with ambivert tendencies.

When we see Capricorn in their 2nd house, we can define that they firmly believe in the value of hard work and effort. From a very early age they learned that the best things in life or the most valuable things require work, sometimes giving up things that, although deep-rooted, only cause pain. They are willing to make sacrifices and work intensely long hours to achieve their goals. They do not usually take unnecessary risks and prefer safe and stable investments, both economic and time and energy. They have a strong ambition to achieve success and feel proud of themselves. They set high goals for themselves and are willing to work hard and persevere to achieve them. These natives are the clear representation of valuing quality over quantity, and can be considered picky by other people. Their self-esteem and self-worth are often linked to their achievements of all kinds, leading them to feel that sense of security when they have achieved their goals. They think long term and plan their future with vision and strategy. Their focus is on building a solid foundation that will provide them with lasting security and prosperity. It is likely that they grew up feeling that many things were missing in their lives, materially, emotionally or even spiritually.

Since they have Aquarius in the 3rd house, these natives are very open to new and different ideas, a trait that is often constantly associated with this rising. They enjoy discussing and debating theories and concepts on many diverse topics, from the simplest to the most profound. They have the quality of adapting well to different communication styles and are able to speak with people of diverse backgrounds and perspectives, ironically, they hardly feel that other people understand their way of thinking. Sometimes they may even feel judged for the way they communicate and think. They value mental independence and prefer to think for themselves rather than blindly following what others say. Their thinking is free and they do not easily conform to traditional opinions, nor are they afraid to question them. They have strong intellectual intuition and can reach conclusions quickly through intuitive perceptions. They are not afraid to question or debate regardless of the person they are dealing with. They are prone to feeling creative during short trips and can be inspired by things that to others may be very mundane or simple. Their rational nature helps them find ingenious solutions to complex problems. They have an insatiable intellectual curiosity and love to learn about a wide range of topics. There are chances of being only children, having some kind of distance from their siblings, or feeling very different from them. They can treat friends fraternally.

There is a lot of depth in the overlay of Pisces in the 4th house, as it is a part of the natives that others do not have a notion of so easily. In their childhood they could have been sensitive children, with that curiosity about the world around them, to understand how things worked, the people around them and, even at their young age, how life worked. There may have been that feeling of being lost, of not finding your place and a longing for that security that is associated with the word 'home'. For these natives, it is an important refuge for them, a place where they can retreat and recharge their energies, and I clarify, this does not necessarily have to be the one in which they were born, but rather the one they create. They dream of a quiet home, in which they can lower the volume of the outside chaos. Many of these natives need a serene space to maintain their emotional balance. They can find comfort in movies, books, music or even in the art they create, whatever it may be. This placement sometimes suggests someone who from an early age had to take care of someone else, whether it was a sibling, an older relative, or even their own parents. They are very perceptive people of the emotions of others, especially those that are deeper, those that others seek to hide. They can also be very intuitive with the emotional needs of their family members. They like to create a welcoming and hospitable environment in their home, as they enjoy making others feel welcome and comfortable in their space. They need a space where they can escape the demands of the outside world and find solace. They look for an atmosphere of peace and tranquillity at home.

With Aries in the 5th house, these natives tend to have a passionate approach to romances. Romance with them feels like an awakening, the awakening of excitement, intrigue, and a desire to explore new things with them. An emotion that drives you in your daily life, that motivates you and drives you to live the day as if it were your last. They greatly value their independence but once they know that you are what they want, they jump in with enthusiasm and can be very direct and honest in expressing their feelings. They like certainty and indecision in a person may seem unattractive to them. There are no grey tones, half-hearted feelings or unfinished ideas, they are looking for a lover as willing, daring and passionate as they are. Love makes them feel alive, fills them with enthusiasm and the desire to go after what they want. It is very likely that once they find love they will feel more ambitious, creative and confident. They value their independence and freedom in love, so they will not tolerate any type of relationship that restricts them or makes them feel limited or incapable of being themselves. They will always focus on motivating their partner and encouraging them to do what they are passionate about, they will never limit them in any way. These natives attract a lot of attention and stand out for their attractiveness, confidence, and sexy and independent aura. Many of them enjoy playful competitiveness. Their self-expression is direct and unfiltered. They are not afraid to be themselves and express their opinions and desires clearly and forcefully. If they decide to have children, they will be active, expressive, playful and very authentic. They can be parents who prioritise that their children have a strong sense of self-acceptance, that they are not afraid of anything and that they feel empowered.

Something that these natives will prioritise a lot no matter what their well-being is, from physical, to emotional and mental, which we attribute to Taurus in the 6th house. When they see that something is not positive in their lives, they do not hesitate to keep it away from them, because they are in constant search to keep what gives them pleasure and comfort close, distancing themselves from what sinks them and prevents them from growing. They can be very selective about what they make part of their day to day, and this includes the people they surround themselves with. They are people who will make part of their routine things that they find pleasant or comfortable, so they may have problems doing chores or things that they find boring or repetitive, postponing them and falling into procrastination tendencies. Taking care of their body and emotional tranquillity is something of great importance to them, so it is common for natives with this placement to exercise, do or have skincare routines, read constantly, meditate or practise similar activities. Many of them have this need to stay active, to be constantly doing things and even if they stay busy, they may have that feeling that they are not using properly most of their time or that they could be doing even more productive things. This placement tells us about the importance of comfort for them when choosing a job, without forgetting that it can also indicate earning a lot of money doing something that they really like and gives satisfaction. In their work they can enjoy not only a good reputation, but lasting bonds and courtesy with others. Taurus being here shows us natives who can be very devoted and constant with any task they have to do, investing a lot of time in it. A good work ethic is possible and a calm and relaxed way of working, as they dislike putting themselves under constant stress.

They highly value their independence, it is difficult to get their attention, and it is even more difficult to awaken in them that desire to have a long-term relationship, and it is not because of fear of commitment, but on the contrary, they think deeply and are very clear about what they want in a relationship and a partner for the long run. This rational and analytical, but above all precise approach is thanks to Gemini in the 7th house, as it means that Mercury is ruling this house. These natives do not have a long list of requirements that you have to meet to be their life partner, but they know perfectly well what things they do not want to deal with. Their discernment makes them realise this easily, and their blunt personality makes them not hesitate to make it clear. They want a partner who makes them look twice, who awakens their curiosity, interest and that has a magnetism that attracts them. They are fascinated by people who always have something to say, those with a clever and agile mind that fills them with excitement and makes them discover sides of themselves that they didn't even know they had. Someone that speaks their mind, that turns daily and boring into exciting and pleasant. They have a fear of deception and sudden distancing from their special person, so they will look for a partner who seeks to be present without the native asking for it. They are people who think a lot when it comes to being with another person. They want to find someone who will erase their doubts with actions and words, a person who will constantly let them know their intentions, feelings and thoughts, someone who will surprise them, not necessarily with seemingly big and outlandish things but by showing that they are not the same as the rest of the people that the natives to found throughout their lives. Good communication is something of utmost importance when thinking about a potential long-term partner, much more than other aspects even. For them it is crucial that this person can talk to them about anything regardless of the weight of the situation. Their future spouse is a person with great intelligence, good social skills and a person who uses his resources and knowledge astutely, someone who is difficult to catch off guard, open-minded and often a fascinating communicator. They will enjoy a marriage with adventures, fun and many learnings. Both the natives and their partners will feel intrigued and strongly attracted to each other, they will be intellectually stimulated and may even feel that they are both friends and partners.

One of the aspects of their personality that is less talked about but that is very determining in them is Cancer in the 8th house. These natives experience their emotions in a very intense and deep way. Their emotional world is rich and complex, and they can be very sensitive to the energies and emotions of others. Although they are protectors and caregivers, they can hide their own emotional vulnerability. Many of them, due to their experiences, are often afraid of showing their weaknesses and tend to build a protective shell around their emotions. They have an innate capacity for emotional healing, both for themselves and for others, transforming themselves and those around them internally. They can be excellent counselors, therapists, or emotional healers. They are firm protectors of what they consider family [whether biological or not], they will keep those they love safe and will not hesitate to attack to defend them if necessary. Their approach to sexuality is deeply tied to their emotions as it is crucial for them to feel a strong emotional connection to fully enjoy their sex life. They may have deep fears of abandonment or betrayal in their intimate relationships. They need to feel a deep emotional and spiritual connection with their partners and can be very protective and nurturing in their intimate relationships, being attentive to their partner's needs. They love the idea of ​​having a relationship where both can be vulnerable with the other and where both fiercely defend the other, giving themselves body and soul to the other.

These natives usually have Leo in the 9th house, which tells us that their pride lies in their intelligence, talents and abilities. They are excellent and fierce debaters who will always seek to speak their truth without filters and without trying to win the good side of others. Strongly tied to their convictions, they give great importance to justice and will always act according to what they consider optimal and most correct in certain situations. Since I mention their strong and fixed opinions, it is worth mentioning that it is difficult to change their minds. If the native is not grounded enough, they are likely to believe that they have the absolute truth and refuse to listen to other people. Their intelligence and ability to create is great and they can bring many interesting and successful projects to life. They will have a lot of happiness traveling or connecting with other cultures, as well as a source of ideas and the ability to create warm memories in places far from home. They may feel very different from people from whatever group they belong to, from school, or even from the stereotypes of their countries. They have a strong passion for knowledge and education, as they love to learn and may have a great interest in philosophical, spiritual or cultural topics. They can communicate their ideas passionately and effectively, motivating others to learn and explore. They have academic ambition and in some cases this placement leads them to seek high achievements in their education. 

With Virgo in the 10th house, these natives are seen as reliable and responsible people in their professional field, coupled with their serious and committed approach to their work, earning them the respect of their colleagues and superiors. Their integrity and work ethic are fundamental to them, and they do everything they can to avoid mistakes or failures. For them it is always crucial to charge and show that they act based on their principles, seeking to do things correctly. They stand out for being adaptable and able to adjust to the changing demands not only of the professional environment, but of what they experience throughout their lives. They are extremely dedicated to their work. They have a strong and admirable work ethic and are diligent and meticulous in everything they do. Always seeking to improve and achieve high quality standards. They can be very critical of themselves and others, especially those who boast of being superior in role or morals. They can be excellent in roles that involve analysis, administration, or any type of detailed work. They may choose jobs in which they maintain order, have control of a specific area or a specific group of people, that are related to analysis and research, or something that involves supporting or helping others. They do not seek recognition or glory, but are satisfied with doing their job well. They are not interested in pleasing others or meeting other people's expectations, rather they constantly strive to meet the expectations of a single person, themselves.

Natives with Libra in the 11th house are selective with friends, thinking a lot before giving that title to someone; Despite their initial wariness, they remain cordial enough. As friends these natives can be very supportive and caring, giving not only sympathy and affection, but also bringing realism to the lives of their friends and colleagues. This placement gives them the tendency to be popular and/or recognized either in their environment or on the internet. They value their friendships very much and will always focus on them being fair relationships in which they get the same as they give to others. They can create very strong ties with friends and vice versa, in some cases it can be expressed in friends being very attached to the native and relying on them, although there may be a risk of dependence on either party. They are very good at working as a team and can count on diplomacy. They are the kind of people who seek social justice, can defend others from injustice and prevent them from getting hurt. They hate injustice and discrimination, because they believe in equality regardless of gender, age, race or beliefs. They are skilled at mediating and resolving conflicts within their social groups. Their natural diplomacy allows them to find fair and balanced solutions to disagreements. They have the ability to positively influence the groups to which they belong. Their ability to see both sides of a situation allows them to provide balanced and fair perspectives. This house is also related to earnings through their work, with Venus ruling this house we can also determine that they can have many economic benefits in a job that they genuinely like.

What lies within you, love? How does Scorpio in the 12th house play a role? When someone sees you they immediately perceive your strength, they sense your impetus and courage, many even tremble at the power that you naturally emanate, but only those who dare to look directly into your intense and sharp gaze, realize the pain that has forged your shell and attitude. You are secretive with many aspects of your life, you deeply bury the gray and overwhelming tints that life has poured on you. You don't let anyone know for fear that it will be used against you. You have learned to watch you back, that trust is not something that is given to just anyone. From betrayals, disappointments, people's cruelty and prejudices... you have been through a lot and yet you remain firm, because you know that you yourself are your most faithful companion and your strength. Fear of betrayal, revealing too much of yourself and being judged or ignored, fear of loving someone who doesn't love you with the same depth. You have a fascinating mind, a fervent desire to get to the bottom of things, and the ambition that allows you to achieve it. It is difficult to hide things from you, because your keen intuition accompanied by your need to discover the truth are your most lethal weapon. You feel things deeply, many times more than you would like, and for you there is no middle ground. You are decisive and do not hesitate, things may be black or white, yes or no, all or nothing… Unlike other people, you find refuge in the spaces where you are on your own. At the end of the day it is better than the masked crowds, those who smile in front of you and conspire behind your back. You have the ability to sense when someone is not what they seem, you can detect people who have shady intentions for miles, a gift that experience has given you. All of these traits protect your noble and loyal heart, the one that makes you capable of completely surrendering to something or someone that makes you feel safe and comfortable. It's never too much for you when it comes to someone you love or something you're passionate about.

[felassan]

David Gaider on Flemeth, under a cut for length:

"I have a type. I admit it. There are certain wells I can return to repeatedly and always find something new to explore. One of them is older female characters. Mike used to rib me about it. Consider Wynne. Meredith. Genevieve. And, of course, the biggie: Flemeth. Why are they a type? I... don't know, honestly. I guess I have a feeling that older men fade, they strive to regain their youth or establish a legacy and we've seen that story a thousand times, but older women? They become free to become something new. I guess I see so many possibilities in that. I had a conception of who Flemeth was, and why, right from the very start. Her creation went hand in hand with Morrigan, as a being whose thirst for retribution hundreds of years ago attracted an entity (slight confession: I didn't know Mythal specifically, at the time, "an elven god" was enough). I also knew where Morrigan was right and very wrong about her. Misconceptions of the truth are built into DA's foundation, and they were fundamental to this mother-daughter relationship I was building. Like many seeds I'd put in the world, however, I had no idea whether I'd ever get to explore it. Knowing that she was a character of possible future importance, if not a major player in DAO, I wasn't much surprised when she was one of the first cuts the art team made in terms of getting a unique appearance. Thus the "batty old woman" players met in DAO. Not as hard a cut as the Qunari, though."

"Going into DA2, I wanted both Morrigan and Flemeth, but we could only have one. So I picked Flemeth. This was the game where she really got to come into her own. I remember the art team coming and asking if it was OK if she got a new model, as it'd be a retcon of sorts. I didn't care. I wanted it. I honestly don't remember whether Kate Mulgrew was cast before or after Claudia. After, I think? All I recall is that Cab came into my office one day and asked if Kate might be a good fit. Asked me, the dyed-in-the-wool Trekkie who had stuck with Voyager even through the admittedly lean years? The squeal I made was un-manly. Cab took that as a "yes". 😅 I didn't get to talk to Kate until DA2, however. Schedules being what they were, we had a tight window to record Flemeth... so I had to write all her scenes before almost anything else in DA2 was written, before I even had a team! Ack! It was OK, though, for the most part. I knew where I wanted to take her, and a big part of it was going to explain her transition - to set her up for the future. So I whipped up a script in, like, two days and off we went. Kate was a marvel in the booth. She adored Flemeth and you could really tell. I didn't get to meet Kate in person, however, until DAI. This came pretty late in its development, compared to when we recorded her for DA2, and we flew down to Virginia (to accommodate her schedule - she was writing her memoir at the time, I think) for a single session. It was going to be *tight*."

"I was a mess. I was finally going to meet Captain Janeway... and yes yes, I know she's also more than that. But come ON. When we sat down, I figured I'd have to talk her through the character all over again. It'd been years since that one session at the start of DA2, right? And even more since DAO. But, no. Kate remembered Flemeth perfectly. I remember sitting there as she told me how much she loved the character, how rare it was to get one with so much texture and possibility. She called out my writing - my writing! - and waxed poetic about how she viewed Flemeth's arc. I... I was floored. 🫠 Then we began recording. One issue that quickly reared its head was how Caroline had to speed through the lines if we hoped to finish. Kate was a trooper, and most takes she'd get it in one (which is rare), but I was alarmed because we weren't giving Kate time to read the VO comments on each line. I brought it up, as there were some lines (so much sarcasm) that required nuance - Kate was getting them, oddly, but I was worried. "Oh, it's fine," Kate said. "I read the comments as we go." "How could you? We're going so fast!" "I'm a speed reader." Oh. OK, then. That certainly explained it. 😁 We got to the confrontation scene with Morrigan and she nailed it. Over and over. More than once, Caroline would make a call and, before I could even interject and say "no, Kate had it right, actually" Kate would explain exactly why she did it that way and why it worked for Flemeth. I was in love. She did the "I will see her avenged!" section all in one go. I got chills. Then we got to the final scene. You know the one. With Solas. It was this beautiful moment. She took it somewhere quiet and sad... and when she got to that last line, we all felt it: Flemeth was dead. Everyone was in tears. I suppose I could talk more about the process. How she started off aligned with Morrigan's original Delirium inspiration, but I didn't pull back her loopy way of talking as much (bet you wondered). I still don't know why it was so easy to slip into her voice, but I'm grateful I got the chance. ❤️"

[source thread]

[huggingkoalas]

𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐤 | natasha romanoff

pairing — ‧₊˚ avenger!natasha romanoff x fem!singlemother!reader

summary — ‧₊˚ after a series of misfortunes, a knight in shining armor saves you and exacts retribution for you.

word count — ‧₊˚ 4.8k

warning(s) — ‧₊˚ tooth-rotting fluff, hurt/comfort(?), pet names (sweetheart, love), cursing, gambling, natasha and reader having a crush on each other, mentions of alcohol, punching, reader getting hurt, bruises, reader having the cutest moments with daughter, mentions of guns, clint being such a w in this fic, implied character death (not natasha or reader), mentions of drugs

authors note — ‧₊˚ finally finished this request sent a month ago :’) this isn’t the best i’ve written, but awjfjaw the amount of soft fluffy moments between reader and daughter is absolutely adorable :3 <3

The dimly lit basement was illuminated by flickering neon lights outside, which created an unsettling colour through the stained glass. Even though it was late, the passing of time didn’t seem to matter as hopeless souls gathered to drown themselves in their sorrows. It was almost suffocating, the smell of cigarettes mingled with human perspiration and the tainted air from spilt alcohol.

Natasha surveyed the room, her keen eyes taking in the shabby decor — mismatched furniture, cracked tiles, and worn-out leather chairs. Her eyes then darted to the motley collection of people surrounding a table. Their murmurs blended into the low hum of an old jukebox playing a melancholic tune. Her eyes moved from one weary face to another. Huddled together, an older woman with a permanent scowl etched into her face, a burly figure with a nervous tic in his left eye, and a muscular man — a sleek, smooth-talking gambler known only as Victor. 

But amongst all of them, her gaze lingered on you, the youngest woman in the group, whose eyes never left the cards in hand. 

Natasha could sense your frustration, the way you shifted uncomfortably in your seat and the way your hands trembled slightly as you placed your bet, the deep sigh that escaped your lips. It was clear you were in over your head, just like so many others around the table.

Natasha took a slow sip of her cup of water, letting the liquid warmth quench her thirst. She knew that she couldn’t afford to get distracted by alcohol, not tonight. Victor, her target for tonight, was slippery, a master at evading the law and anyone who dared to challenge him. Not only did he like gambling and taking money away from the poor, but he was rumoured to be involved in something much darker — involving a new drug that was beginning to surface on the streets. It was whispered about in hushed tones, but S.H.I.E.L.D. caught wind of it, of its effects unknown but rumoured to be potent and addictive.

Furthermore, it was obvious to Natasha that Victor was cheating. The man dealing the cards was one of his henchmen, subtly slipping him the cards he needed to win. Natasha’s keen observation skills caught the sleight of hand and the coded signals exchanged between Victor and his accomplice. 

She had been assigned to a solo mission to capture him. Not only was she doing her job as an Avenger, but she also wanted justice. She wanted to exact revenge for those who couldn’t fight for themselves, for those whose lives Victor had ruined.

Her eyes flicked back to Victor, who was grinning as he raked in another pile of chips. His smooth demeanour masked the predator within, but Natasha could see the calculating glint in his eyes. She’d spent days tracking him, gathering evidence, and now she was finally confident and close enough to take him down.

But first, she had a pull in her gut to ensure you got out of this mess. A feeling to help the weak, perhaps. Natasha couldn’t shake the feeling that you were here not by choice but by necessity. Perhaps you had debts to pay or were trying to find a way out of a bad situation. Either way, she couldn’t just stand by and watch you fall deeper into an abyss.

She pushed off from the bar and made her way towards the table. 

“Mind if I join?” Natasha asked in a firm but calm voice. She pulled out a chair beside you and sat down without waiting for an answer. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a thick wad of cash, placing it on the table.

 Victor’s smile widened for a brief moment before he regained his composure. “Of course,” he said smoothly. “The more, the merrier.”

Natasha glanced around the table. “I don’t have the money in chips,” she said, “but I think this should cover it.”

The dealer nodded, exchanging her cash for a stack of chips. Natasha arranged them in front of her, drawing the attention of everyone around. You shifted again in your seat, trying to focus on your cards, but the sight of Natasha only made you lose more focus. Her beauty was captivating, with her striking features framed by waves of red hair that fell elegantly around her shoulders. Her green eyes, sharp and piercing, reminded you of the vivid colour of an emerald gemstone. You could get lost in them.

It was hard not to be mesmerised by her, especially when she kept turning her gaze towards you, her expression softening with a hint of encouragement as she offered a reassuring nod. The action made your stomach flutter, and you could almost feel your heart beat faster. Her beauty was a distraction, and you felt a pang of frustration as you realised you were going to get distracted by someone as beautiful as Aphrodite.

Fuck, how were you going to win and pay off your debts if you were this weak to attraction?

Natasha seemed to sense your struggle. She leaned in slightly, whispering. “Focus, love.”

The nickname sent a shiver up your spine, and you let out a shaky exhale as you gripped your cards tighter. Natasha knew she was beautiful, there was no denying that, but she didn’t realise that it’d have such a huge effect on you. She rubbed her teeth against her lower lip, a light blush colouring her cheeks.

Victor’s eyes flicked between you, his interest piqued by Natasha’s involvement. He could see your distraction, and it amused him. To him, you were just another easy prey. He leaned back, confident that the game was in his favour.

And he was right. Despite Natasha’s encouragement, your bad luck continued. As the last of your chips disappeared, you slumped back in your chair, defeated. Natasha frowned, reaching over and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

 “I���m sorry,” she whispered.

You shook your head, giving Natasha a feigned smile. “It’s fine.”

Victor leaned back smugly, watching the exchange in front of him. “Tough luck,” he said, his tone dripping with false sympathy. He shrugged his shoulders, smirking. “Maybe next time.”

Natasha’s eyes locked onto Victor’s, narrowing her eyes. “Don’t count on it,” she replied. 

She stood up, helping you to your feet. As you left the table, a permanent frown etched on your face as a series of thoughts swirled in your mind. You couldn’t shake off the bitterness of your defeat, the image of all the money you’d earned slipping away like leaves in the wind. You replayed the game, doubt gnawing on you as you questioned every decision you made at the table. 

As Natasha and you stepped outside, the flickering neon lights from the street lamps cast an even brighter eerie hue over the street. 

Natasha looked at you, an expression of concern on her face. She didn’t know why she made a split-second decision to help you instead of taking down her Victor. She had her chance. She was right there. She could’ve waited at the bar longer until he’d gotten his fill of money for tonight, before capturing him quietly in the alleyway. But when she saw you — dishevelled, your hair a mess, and your knee jumping nervously — desperation radiating from your every movement, she knew she couldn’t just focus on her primary goal. You needed a lifeline, and she couldn’t deny that. Natasha knew that helping you was the right choice, even if it meant delaying her mission. She had to believe that some things were more important than revenge.

She’ll get him the next time.

“You okay?” she asked softly. 

You nodded, but your eyes looked so void of life. 

With a sigh of sympathy, Natasha added. “Listen, I know I’m just a stranger, but-”

You glanced at her and interrupted her, sounding sceptical. You spoke, your voice hardly audible above a whisper, “Why are you doing this? You don’t even know me.”

Natasha’s mouth opened and closed as she searched for the right words. She didn’t have a simple answer. She had spent so long focused on her mission that this unexpected detour caught her off guard. It wasn’t like her to lose sight of her mission’s goal this easily.

After a moment, she finally spoke. “You looked like you needed help,” she said simply, her tone even, almost indifferent. She didn’t want to show the hurricane of emotions inside her. 

You stared at her, trying to read her expression, but her face easily concealed her feelings. She was frustrated at herself for getting distracted, of course. But the only person she could blame was herself.

Natasha looked away, scanning the street as if assessing the surroundings for any potential threats. “Let’s get you home safe,” she said.

You nodded, still unsure of what to make of her. You knew it was reckless, bringing a stranger into your home, especially with your daughter inside. Or maybe you wanted to spend a few more minutes with Natasha before she’d just be another stranger on the streets. A combination of confusion and exhaustion clouded your judgment. You were too tired to care, too drained to weigh the potential negative consequences. You just wanted to get through the night before your shift tomorrow.

You led Natasha to your apartment building, a run-down structure that seemed to sag under the weight of its disrepair. The smell of decay and neglect permeated the air. The stairwell echoed with sounds of a couple arguing and a baby crying as the both of you climbed the creaking stairs.

When you reached your floor, you stopped in front of your apartment door with a sigh of relief. Natasha’s gaze wandered to the door across from yours. It was her apartment, but she didn’t think it was worth mentioning for now. Instead, she noted the rusty doorknob and peeling paint on your door.

You fumbled for your keys, trembling slightly, and unlocked the door. As it swung open, you were greeted by the sight of your daughter standing just inside, her wide eyes filled with worry and relief.

“Mama,” she whispered, rushing forward to wrap her small arms around your waist. You hugged her tightly, the tension in your shoulders easing in her embrace.

“Everything okay, sweetheart?” you asked your daughter, your voice straining to mask the exhaustion in your voice. “You should be asleep.”

She nodded, her eyes still wide with concern. “Had a nightmare. Couldn’t sleep without you.”

Your heart ached at her words. “I’m here now,” you reassured her, stroking her hair gently.

Natasha watched the scene with a softened expression. Despite her tough exterior, the sight of your daughter’s innocent concern and your tender actions tugged at something deep within her. She felt a tingling deep in the pit of her stomach, and an endearing smile appeared on her face. She followed you quietly, clicking the door closed behind her.

“Mhm.” Her gaze shifted to Natasha. “Who’s this, Mama?” she asked curiously, tilting her head to the side.

“This is…” 

Shit, you didn’t even know her name. 

Natasha smiled, crouching down to your daughter’s level. “Hi there,” she said warmly. “My name’s Natasha. I’m… your Mama’s friend from work. I love your toy lion.” She said, pointing to your daughter’s stuffed toy lion held tightly to her chest.

Your daughter perked up a little. Natasha stood up, her expression shifting back to one of attentiveness as she looked at you.

“Alright, sweetheart,” you said, gently guiding your daughter towards her bedroom. “It’s time for bed. Go get in bed and I’ll tuck you in shortly.”

Your daughter smiled, giving Natasha a wave of her hand before excitedly heading to her room. You watched her go and made sure she went into her bedroom before turning to Natasha.

You finally introduced yourself. “I’m sorry for all this… And I completely forgot to introduce myself. My name’s Y/N. Thanks for accompanying me home tonight.”

Natasha gave a small, understanding smile. “It’s alright. I had to make sure you got home safe.”

“I appreciate it, but you don’t have to stay. We’ll be fine.”

Natasha hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll leave you be, but if you ever need anything, I’m just across the hall.”

You looked surprised. “You live here?”

Natasha gave a slight shrug. “Yeah, I just moved in a few days ago. It’s a small world, I guess.”

You managed a tired smile before taking her hand and squeezing it. She squeezed your hand back. You pressed a gentle, soft kiss to her cheek which, in turn, made her smile. “Well, thank you, again, Natasha, and goodnight. I hope we cross paths again.”

Natasha’s cheeks flushed as she nodded, quickly making her way to the door. “Goodnight,” she said softly, giving you one last reassuring look before stepping out into the dimly lit hallway.

As the door closed behind her, you felt a strange mix of relief and gratitude. You turned back to your daughter’s room, the faint sound of her getting ready for bed pulling you back to the present. For now, you could move on from your streak of bad luck tonight, and you could focus on what mattered most — taking care of your little girl.

Natasha made her way back to her apartment, leaning against the door as she let out a slight squeal of happiness. She touched her cheek, feeling the lingering warmth on her skin where you had kissed her. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips, an unexpected rush of emotion making her feel like a schoolgirl experiencing her first crush. She felt a sense of protectiveness and a growing bond with you, something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in a long time.

Shaking the thoughts away, she remembered what she wanted to do. She pulled out her phone and dialled Clint’s number.

Clint answered on the second ring. “Hey, Natasha. What’s up?” 

“Hey, Clint,” Natasha replied, her voice low. “I need you to do a background check for me.”

“On who?”

“Y/N,” she said, the name feeling foreign on her tongue. “I don’t have her last name, but she lives across the hall from me.”

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing yet,” Natasha replied, choosing her words carefully. “But I have a feeling she might need some help.”

“Alright, give me five minutes. I’ll see what I can find,” Clint said, his tone serious.

“Thanks, Clint. I owe you one.”

“Just looking out for you, Nat. Take care.”

Natasha hung up the phone, feeling a combination of apprehension and determination. She may have left you and your daughter for the night, but she wasn’t about to let you slip through the cracks.

The next morning, you woke up feeling slightly refreshed than the night before, but you could still feel the exhaustion in your bones. You rubbed your eyes and stretched, trying to shake off the grogginess. As you glanced around the room, you noticed your daughter curled up beside you, still fast asleep. You accidentally fell asleep in her bedroom.

Leaning down, you pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, brushing a few stray strands of hair away from her face. “Mama’s gotta get ready for work. Sleep well, sweetheart.”

She stirred slightly but didn’t wake up. With a sigh, you reluctantly removed yourself from the warmth of the bed and made your way to your bedroom to get ready for work. You were in need of a much-needed shower to wash off the grime from last night. But as you reached for the doorknob, a series of knocks from the front door interrupted your thoughts, causing your heart to race with anticipation. 

Could it be Natasha, returning to check on you?

With a hopeful smile, you swung open the door, only to be met with a sight that sent a shiver down your spine. It wasn’t Natasha standing there. It was Victor, the smooth-talking gambler from the night before, and also your debt collector. Your smile dropped instantly.

“Where’s the money you owe me, huh?”

Your throat tightened with apprehension as you stepped out into the hallway, closing your door behind you. You didn’t want to wake up your daughter. “I-I’m sorry,” you stuttered, your words barely audible over the pounding of your heart. “I don’t have it right now, but I’ll get it to you as soon as I can, I promise.”

But Victor wasn’t interested in apologies or promises. His eyes narrowed with disdain as he cut you off, his tone seething with anger. “‘Sorry’ doesn’t pay bills, and you’re also behind on rent. I’ve been kind enough to give you a chance to win some money last night,” he spat, his words like venom. “This is the second time you haven’t gotten me my money on time. You think I’m running a fucking charity here?”

You knew you were in deep trouble. 

“I-”

“I’ve had enough of your excuses,” he growled, cutting you off. “You’re out of chances.”

Before you could react, Victor’s fist collided with your jaw with a sickening thud, sending shockwaves of pain coursing through your body. Stars danced in your vision as you stumbled backwards, the taste of iron filling your mouth.

You tried to defend yourself desperately, but Victor’s relentless onslaught on your body left you helpless, your attempts futile against his brute strength. Blow after blow rained down upon you, each one driving you further into agony.

He didn’t stop until you lay battered on the floor. 

Victor spat at your feet. “You have until tomorrow,” he snarled, his voice dripping with malice. “Get me my money, or next time, it won’t just be a beating you’ll receive.”

As he turned to leave, you struggled to push yourself up from the ground, pain shooting through every limb as you clung to consciousness. You struggled with each breath, your body screaming for mercy. Your vision was blurred, sounds muffling into a distant echo as you succumbed to unconsciousness.

Natasha returned from her morning run, her breath coming in steady puffs of steam in the chilly air as she walked up the stairs to her apartment. As she approached the corridor, her eyes landed on a figure slumped against the door of the apartment across from hers. She quickened her pace, her heart hammering in her chest at the sight before her. You lay unconscious on the ground, your body broken and bruised. She rushed to your side, dropping to her knees as she assessed the extent of your injuries.

“Y/N!” She exclaimed, her voice filled with panic. “Can you hear me?”

Gently, Natasha cradled your head in her lap, shaking your shoulders with urgency to rouse you from your unconscious state. “Come on, wake up.” she urged.

You stirred slightly, your eyelids fluttering open. “Natasha?” you mumbled weakly, recognising her voice after awhile. Confusion was evident in your voice as you tried to make sense of your surroundings.

With a groan, you attempted to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washed over you, forcing you back down. Natasha’s expression softened with concern as she gently brushed a strand of hair from your face. “Easy now,” she said soothingly. “You’re injured. Let’s get you inside and cleaned up.”

Natasha managed to get you to your feet, albeit unsteadily. You leaned against her as she helped you into her apartment. Once inside, she guided you to her couch, where you could rest while she fetched an ice pack.

You scanned your surroundings. Your eyes widened in surprise as they landed on the dining table. Stacks of reports and files littered the surface, but what caught your attention were the numerous guns laid out neatly beside them. You couldn’t help but gulp nervously at the sight.

“What’s all this?” You asked, your voice weak but curious, gesturing towards the array of firearms.

Natasha didn’t have to look at you to know that you were talking about the guns. She paused, stilling herself before she sighed. She turned to face you, her expression unreadable as she returned with the ice pack from the freezer compartment of the fridge.

“Work stuff.” She replied cryptically. It was obvious to you that she didn’t want to continue the conversation further. She handed you the ice pack. “Here, hold this against your cheek, it should help with the swelling.”

You accepted the ice pack gratefully, pressing it against your sore cheek with a wince.

Natasha had a frown on her face as she watched you silently for a moment before finally speaking up. “Who did this to you, Y/N?”

You hesitated, unsure of how much you should reveal. You kept repeating to yourself that Natasha was a stranger, a beautiful and potentially dangerous stranger in fact, but no one had ever cared for you as much as her. Not even your ex-husband gave you this much concern. Seeing the genuine worry in Natasha’s eyes, you sighed, leaning back against the backrest.

“It was Victor,” you said, your face cringing as you uttered his name. “He’s been pursuing me to get the money I owe him.”

Natasha’s jaw tightened with rage as her expression darkened. She whispered under her breath, “That fucking bitch.” Her imagination was already running wild with all the things she would do to him if she got her hands on him. 

She turned to face you again, her gaze softening. “Would you like me to call the hospital? Or perhaps bring your daughter here?”

You shook your head, feeling sick to your stomach at the idea of bringing your daughter into this mess. “No hospitals.” You firmly declared.  “I don’t want her seeing me like this.”

Natasha respected your choice and nodded understandingly. “Alright, then,” she softly answered. “You should get some rest.”

“I have work today,” you mumbled, trying to convince yourself to push yourself up from the couch. “I need to get the money for Victor.”

You really couldn’t afford work today, not with Victor’s threat hanging over you. You couldn’t even begin to think about what would happen if you didn’t get his money ready. Fear gripped you as you thought about your daughter. What if he came after your daughter? You couldn’t bear the thought of Victor hurting her. 

Natasha gently placed a hand on your chest, pushing you down to the couch. “You can’t go to work looking like this,” she said, huffing. “You need to rest and heal. I’ll handle things from here.”

You looked at her, trying to argue. “But-”

“No buts,” Natasha interrupted, softening her tone. “You’re in no condition to work. I’ll figure something out for you. Just focus on getting better, alright?”

Seeing no point in arguing, you sighed and nodded, letting yourself relax back on the couch. “Alright,” you conceded, wincing as another jolt of pain shot through your body. “Thank you, Natasha.”

Honestly, you couldn’t fathom what you had done to deserve kindness from someone like Natasha, particularly considering the constant stream of misfortune that seemed to follow you like a shadow. Gratitude was a foreign emotion to you. Unfamiliar yet strangely comforting. It warmed your heart. You were grateful that some higher being brought her into your life at your lowest point.

“Don’t mention it, love,” she replied, giving you a reassuring smile. “Now, get some rest. I’ll be back soon.”

Natasha stepped out of the apartment and pulled out her phone as she closed the door. She quickly dialled Clint’s number, her mind already formulating a plan.

“Hey, Nat,” Clint’s voice came through the line. “What’s up?”

“I need your help,” Natasha said, her voice laced with urgency. “There’s a situation with Victor. He beat up my neighbour, Y/N, and things might be getting dangerous. I need you to come here with the Quinjet and get her and her daughter back to the Avengers compound. They’re not safe here anymore, and she refuses to get treatment from the hospital.”

Clint didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be there as soon as I can. Hang tight, Nat.”

“Thanks, Clint,” Natasha replied, relief washing over her.

Natasha hung up and returned to your apartment. She found you lying on the couch, eyes closed but not quite asleep. You opened your eyes when you heard the door close, giving her a questioning look.

She sat down beside you, her expression serious yet gentle. “My friend, Clint, he’s coming to get you and your daughter out of here,” she began. “He’s one of my closest friends, and he’s someone I trust with my life. He’s on his way with the Quinjet. It’s a high-tech aircraft and it’ll get you to the Avengers Compound safely and quickly.”

You gave her a confused look. “Avengers Compound?”

Natasha nodded. “Mhm. I guess I haven’t really explained what I do. I’m… an Avenger. I’m in a team with other individuals with special abilities and skills who protect the world from threats. My job is to keep people safe, and right now, that means you and your daughter.”

“Are you sure it’s okay? Won’t I be in the way?”

“You won’t be in the way,” Natasha assured you. “The Compound is probably the safest place for you, and you can get the treatment you need there. You’ll be safe there, and I’ll figure out how to deal with Victor so he can’t hurt you again.”

“Alright… Thanks, again, Natasha. I really owe you twice, now.”

“It’s fine, love. Just get the rest you need.”

You woke up, and immediately you could feel your head pounding. The sterile smell of antiseptics hit you like a brick. As your eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light, you realised you were in an unfamiliar place. The room was quiet, save for the soft beeping of medical equipment.

Panic started to set in until you spotted Natasha, a familiar figure slumped in a chair beside your bed. She was asleep, her head resting on her arm. The position she was in looked really uncomfortable, you could imagine the strain she’d feel on her neck once she woke up. At least she was here, and the sight of her made you relieved.

You took in your surroundings, noticing the high-tech medical equipment and the pristine cleanliness of the room. This wasn’t a regular hospital. Where were you?

You shifted slightly, wincing at the pain, but the movement was enough to wake Natasha. Her eyes fluttered open and she quickly straightened up, her gaze locking onto yours.

“You’re awake,” she said softly.

“Where am I?” you asked, your voice hoarse.

“The Avengers Compound,” Natasha replied. “You fainted back at my apartment, but we got you out of there. You’re safe now.”

You relaxed further into the bed, closing your eyes for a moment. “You’ve done so much for me, Natasha. I really don’t deserve this,” you whispered.

Your words barely scratched the surface of how you felt.

She reached out and gently held your hand. She held your hand to her lips, kissing your knuckles with gentleness. “It’s alright, love.”

You pulled the blankets to your cheeks, covering the redness seeping up your cheeks at her tender and sweet action. “What happened with Victor?”

“Let’s just say he… won’t be disturbing you ever again.” Natasha shrugged.

Before you could respond, the door to the infirmary burst open, and a small whirlwind of energy barreled into the room. Your daughter ran straight to your bedside. Behind her, Clint stood in the doorway, waving at Natasha.

“Mama!” Your daughter cried, throwing her arms around you as carefully as she could. “I was so scared!”

You hugged her back, ignoring the pain that flared in your body. “I’m okay, sweetheart,” you whispered, stroking her hair. “Everything’s going to be okay now.”

Clint stepped forward. “Hey, I’m Clint, Natasha’s friend.” He pointed to your daughter. “Your daughter’s been worried sick about you. Couldn’t keep her away from this room forever.”

Natasha gently lifted your daughter from under her armpits and placed her beside you on the bed. She couldn’t help but soften as she watched the reunion. 

Your daughter looked up at Natasha. “Thank you for helping my Mama,” she said earnestly.

Natasha ruffled your daughter’s hair. “It was my pleasure. Your mom’s a tough cookie, just like you.”

Clint stepped closer, giving your shoulder a kind and supportive squeeze. “You’re in good hands here in the Avengers Compound. You’re part of our family now and we’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”

Your daughter nestled closer to you, her presence a comforting reminder of what mattered most. “Thank you, Natasha. Thank you, Clint. I don’t know how to repay you.”

Natasha smiled nervously, hesitating her next words. She glanced away from you, rubbing her thumb over your hand. “There’s a way you can repay me, actually. Go on a date with me?”

[itsgivingmami]

Heyy I was wondering if you could maybe write Rhea Ripley having a famous girlfriend?

Like they would talk about each other in interviews and such…

Love!! Hope you enjoy! Thanks for the request💛

The Public Eye- Rhea Ripley

Rheas leg bounces impatiently behind the conference table, the lights in the room feel altogether too bright and if she has to answer another dumb question from someone who doesn’t even watch the content they produce she might launch over the table at them.

“So Rhea,” she takes a deep breath and looks to where a man in a poorly fitted button down has a hand up, “how are you going to celebrate your win tonight?” She pretends to contemplate but she has a plan and is getting more and more antsy to get there.

“I have a date,” she boasts and the room erupts as people question her who it is and where shes going. She grins cheekily as she stands from the folding chair and makes her way behind the curtain. Her belt thrown over her shoulder she walks down the halls smugly, pausing for a moment as her phone buzzes in the waist band of her gear.

Babygirl: is it really a date if we’re just going to watch horror movies on the couch?

~

She racks her weights and turns back to her phone, hearts and text filling the screen as her fans watch her live workout. Compliments about her tattoos, questions about the dogs and plain old thirst commentary. She smiles at the depravity of her fans and answers a couple questions.

“What did I do this weekend?” She repeats and hums, “I took my girl to set Saturday morning, cleaned the house and then picked her up, we both had the day off Sunday,”

Her chat starts scrolling faster as her viewers start discussing you. Talking about your last movie or how cute the two of you are together.

“She’s your favourite actor?” Rhea chuckles and quickly double checks around her as if she weren’t home alone, she leans in close to the camera to whisper, “mine too,”

~

The flashes are blinding as you smile looking at them before turning to look at Rhea. Head to toe in a three piece black suit you regret picking out, she’s far too tempting in it. She’s got a firm arm around your waist but you suspect it’s more for her own comfort than yours. She had been on red carpets before but not nearly as many as you and being the lead in the film you were currently at the premiere for you hadn’t had half a second to breathe.

“You’re sure you want to come?” You ask her as you toss a couple dresses onto the bed next to her. It’s not that you don’t want her too, in-fact, you’d love nothing more than an opportunity to show her off but even you got overwhelmed by them sometimes. She reaches for your waist and pulls you between her legs as she stares up at you, your concerned expression makes her grin at you.

“Mhm,” she hums and you run a hand over her hair, “I wanna support my baby,” she tells you honestly and you lean down to kiss her. The emotion rushes over you in waves, feeling incredibly lucky to have the woman in front of you.

~

“Congratulations on the success of your new film,” the interviewer says to you and you smile at her. “It really is a beautiful piece of work,”

“Thank you that’s so kind,” you adjust in your chair, gently pulling your skirt down a little further.

“Of course,” she smiles again and looks down to her notes, “you can tell you put a lot of emotion and really felt your character that must’ve been difficult,”

“It can be,” you confess, some days it was harder to break character and return from that dark place, “but I have a really great support system,” you explain and the interviewer listens attentively, a nice reprieve from the shallow ones.

“You have a partner right?” She questions and you feel your heart flutter, a feeling that had never really stopped despite being together months now.

“Rhea,” you fill in for her, “she’s incredible and she understands the whole fame side of things, I’m so lucky to call her mine,”

~

“Got somewhere to be?” Damian’s question makes Rhea look away from the wall clock and he tries to stretch out his quads.

“No I just want to make sure I’m available, just in case,” she explains and Damian’s furrows his brows in confusion.

“Available for wh-“ the loud ringer of Rheas phone cuts him off and she sprints towards the corner of the practice ring. She accepts your FaceTime and she’s greeted by your teary eyes and your hand over your mouth.

“Hi love,” she greets, ready to tell Damian she needs to go until your hand falls and she sees the smile gracing your lips.

“Four nominations,” you mutter to her still in disbelief, you had hung up on your agent moments ago once she told you the news to call Rhea.

“Four,” Rhea repeats and you nod before she squats down and throws her hand over her mouth, you giggle realising she’s picking up on your habits. “FOUR OSCAR NOMINATIONS!”

You giggle at her and sigh happily, allowing some of the stress you’d been holding waiting for that call to leave you as you fall back on the couch. Rhea watches you in pure admiration, proud of you beyond explanation and relieved to see your skills be valued how they should. Some partners might see it as a threat, to date someone so famous but to her it only adds a layer of connection between you too.

Damian wanders away to chat with someone as he hears you and Rhea, the latter completely forgetting about his existence. He can’t complain, not when his best friend has clearly found the love of her life.

a/n: quick shout out to @possessedmagpie for the help brainstorming, go check out their book!

[gothcsz]

𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 — made by yours truly 🖤

hiiii 🖤 alright you guys, i’m just gonna go ahead and say that i haven’t been in this fandom for long… like at all (five months give or take… she’s just a baby!) so i don’t have many works yet, but @jolapeno was kind enough to tag me in this amazing idea of hers, so i had to jump on it! it’s hard for me to compliment myself, and the imposter syndrome do be kicking my ass when i see/read all the beautiful fics that get written and posted (for free, mind you) on the daily—but i will say i haven’t had this much fun in fandom in so long, so for that, i thank all of you for making my experience so nice 🖤 on top of participating in this self lovin’ tootathon, i have also just hit a follower milestone that genuinely brings tears to my eyes! who would have thought that me thirsting over my favorite fictional man would bring so many readers, friends, and overall cool people my way? not me, that’s for sure! i’ve definitely grown as a writer in the small time that i’ve been here and have completely fallen in love with this hobby again, all thanks to the support from each and every single one of you. i appreciate you guys more than you know 🖤 (oh brother, she’s crying again. she being me) anywho, enough yapping, here’s a few of my faves from this year (these past 5 months) and why i love ‘em so much

𝒇𝒂𝒏𝒇𝒊𝒄𝒔 (they're not finished i knowww sorryyyyy but my god do i love them all) :

thoroughfare — i say this all the time but fuck, dude, this fic is the reason i even decided to start posting my writing in this fandom. it's based off this story i wrote almost two years ago and everything about it is so near and dear to my heart. the horror/thriller aspect of it, my side characters, the world building, javier and paloma's relationship, javier's entire characterization... *sighs lovingly* my beloved readers, you guys are literally so strong and have an extra special place in my heart for enjoying this story because i know it's kinda niche and not for everyone so, thank you for supporting your girl 🥹

fantasize — point me in the direction of a bigger ariana grande stan than me... right, right.... you can't! literally saw the music video for the boy is mine and immediately had to javier peña–fy it, lmfao! it was fun switching the roles and having the reader do the stalking and lying. these two freaks make my clit throb and i love their dynamic so. fucking. much. so hot! IS SOMEBODY GONNA MATCH MY FREAK? IS SOMEBODY GONNA MATCH MY NASTY? so glad gatita finally got that ring 💍

unscripted desire — 😏 this fic put me on the map, lowkey, so for that i am forever grateful! what started off as a silly little prompt has now turned into a full blown fic that, to me personally, gives off major rom com vibes, aha. i think reader here is my absolute fave because she's so stubborn and just a badass! sometimes i feel like javi is a little too ooc but then i read everyone's comments and i'm like okay nvm i'm just in my head 🖤

neighbors series — this one right here is amazing because of how collaborative it is between myself and my anons/readers like every time i get a prompt/idea for it in my inbox, i literally lose my mind because it's so good. the yearning, the angst, the drama... bro, i compare it in my head to euphoria s2 and how everyone was watching the new episodes every sunday, live tweeting/blogging what was happening and having discourse around it. that's how i feel every time i post for our neighbors, i literally love interacting with all of you! this is our novela fr

𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕𝒔 / 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆𝒔 :

𝐈𝐈𝐈. i wake up in the middle of the night thinking about fucking/dating modern day marcus acacius and lucius verus. that is all. I LOVE THIS FIC SO BAD POSSIBLY MY BEST WRITING TO DATE. okay, sorry for the caps, i just had to say that lol

husband!javier peña seducing you at the bar pretending to be a stranger 🙂‍↕️

purgatory aka my threesome fantasy. i love women, halloween, and javier peña so this is just super indulgent for myself, hehe

worst behavior. something about javier peña being a secret service agent just really did it for me, i fear. plus, it was my first time participating in a writing challenge on here so consider that cherry popped!

javier peña has a panty kink. that is all.

once upon a time kat wrote for joel miller and there are times were i reread this and think 'wow, the things i'd do to have joel fuck me at a national park'

𝒎𝒐𝒐𝒅𝒃𝒐𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒔 / 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒍 𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒕𝒔 :

being a secretary for javier peña and teasing the fuck out of him 🖤

a little webweaving-esque edit for neighbor!javi that i stare at all the time tbh

oh to be a black girl dating javier peña! there's a lot to be said about representation in fandom spaces in general, so to that i had to make something for my fellow black girls who might not feel very seen around here! i do plan on making more, and i love how romantic this moodboard came out

general moodboard for my fic thoroughfare that i think encapsulates the vibes pretty well, hehe

chapter eight moodboard for thoroughfare. i'm so in love with them

chapter nine moodboard for thoroughfare. the angst! the visuals are exactly what was in my head while writing it

western nights edit for thoroughfare. this song within the context of the fic is just chef's kiss! i love the photos i used here

𝒇𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒔 :

mis primas (gn), that's what you all are to me! i really wish i could tag each follower i have, each anon that's sent me fucking gold in my inbox, but alas i can't; so here are some of the people that make my heart go boom boom boom every time i see them in my notes or just people that i admire from afar 🖤 also consider this a tag to do this if you're a writer!

@almostempty , @auteurdelabre , @persephone-girl , @correapunk , @littlefruitbowl , @dontlookatme121 , @thundermartini , @joelmillerisapunk , @almostfoxglove , @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 , @prose-before-hoes , @letsmeetintheafterglow , @yxtkiwiyxt , @ovaryacted , @bambisweethearts , @thereaperisabitch , @probablyreadinsmut , @itwasntimethatdidit40 , @pedgito , @joelsrose , @sanarsi , @maiamore , @penascigarette , @theetherealbloom , @swankyorange , @cowboy-like-m3 , @hoelaris , @king-simp , @wildemaven , @professionalpromqueen , @amanitacowboy , @sassyhonks , @syd-djarin , @angiewatson , @stargirlfics , @asobeeee , @kirsteng42 , @joelssluttyknee , @hotgirlbedtimescenarios , @javierpena-inatacvest , @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal , @jay-zzle , @miss-oranje-disco-dancer , @bbyanarchist , @greenwitchfromthewoods , @myownwholewildworld

if i forgot to tag you, i am so sorry okay! but just know: i see your comments ladies (gn), and they make me smile. i'm lurking and i'm stalking when you least expect it. but lately I've just been takin care of my business and gettin my grind up, but i promise you, i'll be back to play and get my flirt on 💋

[whatudottu]

Introducing to you - made over the course of a few months - a visual guide to cybertronian pedipalps and proboscis!

The general gist and inspiration for such being of course the episode Thirst and the fact that, up until that point, dark energon did not have any mutagenic properties only (in the show) being utilitised to revive the dead. What if, instead of being a side effect of dark synth energon, dark energon just... reactivated dormant pedipalps (remnants of a more buggy pre-metamorphosis sparkling/protoform lifestage)?

A more comprehensive look is down below- and don't mind how it's exclusively 'Cons lmao :P

Starting off, I referenced CYLAS' canonical pedipalps to try and understand the shapes being used which resembles a lapping type mouth that bees have (so considering there is a tranformers character named Bumblebee it feels appropriate but he ISN'T HERE), let alone the flexible proboscis which I just made as a siphoning type from butterflies which; this is the wikipedia image I used to understand mouth parts :P

Breakdown himself wouldn't need to open his whole face in order to consume energon, given that he has an opening and closing jaw in addition to having the dexterity and power of limbs and a neck to not require lapping, but energon is still drunk through the proboscis like a straw.

Continuing onto characters that would NEED their pedipalps, vehicons and other faceless cold constructs (whether you have the belief every cold construct is faceless or they recently shifted to facelessness to save on costs) by technically did not metamorphose like forged mecha and thus their mouth parts have not gone dormant. Instead, their construction means they have not known anything other than pedipalps and proboscis, having no experience at all with facial expressions and thus not susceptible to phantom sensations.

Though their jaws do not have joints or at least do not have an opening to function like an enclosed mouth, vehicons still do have one on the basis of having a neck and a location to store their coiled proboscis when not in use.

Unlike other cybertronians - forged or constructed - empurata survivors have their heads and/or faces completely remolded and restructured where they do not have a functioning jaw. They have in it's stead a reconstruction of the original pedipalps formatted appropriately to the new head mould.

Monoptics like Shockwave do not have enough room in their helms to have a mouth-like structure at all, instead the neck is reconstructed to open with the pedipalps; the proboscis when fully extended appears longer in monoptics but that is due to the fact the opening is lower and closer to it's base. Nulloptics like Soundwave have their entire face replaced by their mouth, often covered up in seamless panels that give the appearance of a screen, up until the nulloptic actually replaces the panels to include the electronics necessary to protect and display visuals.

In average adult cybertronians however, the pedipalps remain dormant - at least in their use for eating - and are instead used to produce vocalisations alongside the proboscis (which still remains in use by function of the liquid energon diet), in addition to being used in expression in conjuction with the many servos operating within the faceplate. The reason why, despite the variety of things pedipalps can do now that they aren't being used to consume fuel, that empuratas and constructs cannot re/gain a face with the same ability and level of complexity of the average cybertronian is because of the hyperactive function of those very pedipalps.

Vehicons can - if they so choose - express visually through the exclusive use of their pedipalps, but factoring in a faceplate with all of it's own complicated servos intricately woven into each other, the faceplate lacks the ability to split along the seams of the pedipalps and would restrain their mobility and prevent the cold construct from refueling. Empurata have a similar issue with the addition of their lack of functioning jaws and their modified head structure preventing the synergy of a faceplate. Nulloptics' heads are functionally all mouth so the corresponding faceplate cannot have features for optics or ridges, and monoptics' pedipalp expression is on their neck and thus a faceplate that matches where the mouth in their case would be a very bizarre choker-

And that's all folks, hope you love my cybertronian pedipalps post :P

[slimybeth69]

Thirst: Part 3

Marcus Acacius X lady reader (no descriptions, you're a virgin though)

Summary: Your freedom had a price and Marcus Acacius was willing to pay for it... but you also had to do something for him.

Chapter 3 of 10: Slick

<-Previous Chapter Next Chapter->

Rating: EXPLICIT -- Shameless smut with a little plot

a/n: NO SPOILERS to the new movie. I do introduce characters from the movie in the next couple chapters (plus a surprise guest), but they're based more on the historical Geta and Caracalla, and what I thought each character was going to be like based on the trailer and a quick wiki search on who everyone was.

This is cross-posted from my AO3. (there is one more chapter up now if you can't wait for me to post it here)

WARNINGS: dubious consent, ownership, loss of virginity, mutual mast., exhibitionism, voyeurism. Mentions of being a whore. Oral (f receiving).

It’s been several days since you’ve seen the General. Several— you’ve lost count of how long it’s been since he brought you gifts that could be inserted into you. You inserted that alluring glass toy into your forsaken ass so many times you’re basically a professional. 

Where is Marcus Acacius? Hmm? Where is the man that paid for your freedom from that brothel— only to keep you locked up here in this room? Where is he? Gone for days at a time and you have no idea where he goes or what he does? That doesn’t seem fair to you. Not at all. He gets to go gallivant around Rome, and you get locked away from the world?

You’re not upset about being locked away. You don’t mind it at all, actually. Everything you need is brought to you and you visit the bath house once a day to clean and relax. You’re fed very well and given more wine than you know what to do with. 

It’s the General that you’re yearning for. You need him more than you ever thought you could need another human person in your entire life…

Now here you are pining for a man who…leaves… do what? 

Go find other brothel women to fuck while you rot in this room? 

Your heart pangs. 

Marcus cannot be out fucking other women without you! No, he hasn’t even fucked you yet. How is he going to go and fuck someone else while you’re waiting for him right here?

As your thoughts are flooded with him and the idea of where he could be, the doors to your chambers swing open and crash against the wall loudly. 

“Morning Dove… the most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on.” Marcus’s voice booms and echoes in the large space. 

You cringe and pull your shoulders up to your ears at the sudden but not unwelcome intruder. “What do you want?” You snap at him, the shock from his entrance still shivering down your spine and settling into your toes. 

He looks at you sadly, his brows furrowed gently in disappointment. “You’re not happy to see me?” He stands at the end of your bed with his arms crossed over his broad chest. “You look like a vision , as always.” Marcus winks at you. 

You raise an eyebrow and look at him with suspicion. “Are you drunk?” You question, pulling the satiny sheets up to your chin, not wanting him to see your nakedness. 

Marcus grins down at you and shrugs his shoulders. 

You blink at him and then squint your eyes as they dart between him and the balcony outside… where the early morning sun is just starting to peek out over the horizon. “It’s so early…”

“Or very late!” Marcus corrects you with so much vigor it makes you jump in shock. 

“You haven’t slept yet, have you?” You eye him, his crimson tunic looks slightly disheveled and his hair is a mess. “You’re…drunk from last night…still?”

Marcus blows a raspberry at you and waves a dismissive hand your way. “I am not drunk. I indulged and then went to go to my chambers to rest and couldn’t stop thinking of you.” 

You roll your eyes at him. “It’s been weeks since I’ve seen you. Weeks, Marcus… and you barge in here before the sun is even up and for what—”

Marcus smiles and grips the sheets that are covering you in both fists and tugs at them gently. You grasp them tightly in your hands and widen your eyes. 

“What? You want my blankets?” You hold them closer to you as Marcus pulls them back towards him. You two are now pulling the sheet tight.

“Let go.” He growls at you but it is playful and lighthearted… there is a flash in his eye when he says this like it might be some kind of game to him. 

“No.” You snap just as playfully as him. His eyes flash again…something you’ve never seen them do before. His strong arms flex before he yanks the sheet with more vigor. You weren’t expecting as much force, so you lose your hold on the blanket in one hand. It slips and one of your breasts, the peak hardened, is now exposed to him. His tongue dances across his bottom lip as gives the sheet another good yank.

“Marcus!” You scold him as you get your grip on the silk sheet and pull it with all your might back to your chest. 

You get a foot of fabric to cover yourself with, but you think it’s because he let you have it. 

“Dove!” He scolds you back but there is no aggression in his tone. He is playing with you. 

Marcus has a stupid smile on his face that you’ve never seen before and now, he wants to play tug-o-war with your favorite blanket? 

“If you rip this sheet I will be—”

“Gifted a new one? That is softer and more comfortable to sleep on? Is that what you will be? Showered with gifts and comfortable while you sleep, little Dove?” He gives you a handsome smirk, and in your distraction he jerks the sheets back and both your hands lose their grip.

“Marcus!” You scold him again in your newfound nakedness, remembering the brothel in which he ‘rescued’ you from. 

The General is still smirking as he waits at the end of your bed with the sheets in his hands. “ Dove .” He coos to you softly. 

You cover yourself the best you can with your hands and arms, and you glare at him. “Give me my blanket back.” You snap, the thought of him fucking other men or women without you rush back to your head. “Go fuck one of the other virgins you buy and hide away all over the city of Rome. I’m sure they’d be glad to see you.” You humph loudly and turn your body away from him. 

You watch out of the corner of your eye as Marcus drops the sheet and then eases himself onto the bed. “Cara Luna, why do you say those things?” His voice is much softer and his rough, calloused fingers trail up your spine. 

You turn further away from him and arch your back at his touch and scoot closer to the edge of the bed. “Go away. Go find comfort in one of the other women or men you choose to spend your time with when you’re not with me.” You feel the sting of tears coming.

Marcus sucks his teeth quietly as you wipe your eyes before they can fall. “I don’t find comfort in others.” His deep, calm voice does nothing to soothe you. 

“I don’t believe you.” You scoff and roll your eyes even though your back is turned to him and he can’t see. “You haven’t fucked me— and you’re a man! Men need to fuck.” 

Marcus inches closer to you and now you can smell the wine on him. “Aurelia, are you jealous?” His voice is velvet as he presses his lips to your upper back. You can feel the heat of his body behind you now. His hands rub the outside of your upper arms as he plants gentle kisses along your shoulder blades. 

You scoff softly and roll your eyes. “Jealous of what? The other whores? No.” You tug your arm out of one of his hands, but he finds his hold quickly and grips you. 

Marcus leans in so his lips are pressed to your ear. “Who is locked away in a tower where no one can reach her but me?” He growls softly, his massive hand sliding forward and over your shoulders.

You snort quietly but find yourself leaning against him and saving the feeling of his muscular chest against your back. “How many other people have you locked away all over Rome?” You huff softly as Marcus settles behind you, supporting your weight as you lean into him. 

The pads of his fingers graze your collarbone while his lips move down to the nape of your neck. “Do you want to know why I bought you, Dove?” His voice sends a tingle down your spine and you do your best to suppress the shiver it creates. 

“Because you want to take my virginity.” You roll your eyes again as his hands move lower and cup your breasts completely in his palms. His skin is so rough against the soft, suppleness of your tits. “Fuck.” It’s moaned under your breath as he adds weight to his touch and begins to drag his hands across your sensitive flesh. Your nipples pebble under his touch.

Marucs chuckles and nips at the curve of your neck gently, his teeth tease you and make your cunt throb and you can feel the wetness pooling between your legs. “Wrong, my Luna Flora.” His voice barely whispers. “I paid for you…” He pauses to kiss your neck gently and you tilt your head to give him more access. “I keep you locked away…” He murmurs with his mouth still pressed to your skin, “I come here and tease you…” He trails off now, his lips gliding up the soft skin of your neck and to your jaw. 

This is the most he has ever touched you. The most his lips have ever been on your body and every nerve ending you have inside you is on fire. “Why do you do it?” You whine softly as he bites down on your flesh with a possessive intensity. 

Marcus squeezes your tits and he pushes his chest against your back. Marcus unleashes your neck from his teeth and licks the spot gently. “ Because I can,” his voice is steady and confident now. “As the General, I have power and influence that stretch far beyond what you think you know.” He’s growling softly and his hands are still groping and squeezing at your breasts. 

“What does that—”

Marcus pulls you into his warm, strong body tightly. “You weren’t given permission to speak, Luna Flora, you’ll remain quiet until I tell you to talk, understood?” His tone is firm and serious and you bite your lips between your teeth and nod. “Good.” His grip on your chest softens and he returns to massaging his hands across your breasts. You feel every callous and every line on his palm across your nipples. “Apologize…” His tone is softer now too, just above a whisper. 

You turn your head to gaze up at him, his brown eyes are dark and glassy from the wine he had indulged in before he came here. “I’m sorry, General.” You mew to him softly. 

Marcus respires softly through his nose and his eyes fluttering almost goes unnoticed but you’re so close to him. You feel the rumble in his chest before you hear him speak. “It’s a privilege to be in my company, did you know that?” He asks this as if you didn’t already.

You don’t respond. You just gaze up at him as his right hand leaves your chest and slides slowly down your stomach. 

“You might not fully grasp the depths of my influence,” Marcus sounds like he might be mocking you, but you’re not sure– his words aren’t really registering to you right now as you watch his hand slide lower down your torso. “But, know that when I’m here–” His hands and words pause. 

“What?” You whisper as his fingers scrabble at the patch of curls sitting atop your mound. 

“It’s because I couldn’t resist temptation anymore—” His giant hand slides down between your legs and he palms your cunt gently. “I needed to come look…” Marcus flicks his tongue against the shell of your ear. “I needed to hear your voice,” his lips find your jaw and he kisses you gently. “I needed to taste you…” His two middle fingers part your folds and you gasp softly, feeling his intense warmth against your pussy for the first time. 

“Marcus…” You plead quietly for more. 

“I needed to give in to temptations… which I’m not allowed to do as a General.” Marcus pulls his fingers from between your thighs and there is a clear string of your slick arousal connecting your swollen, aching pussy to his fingers. It glistens in the morning light and your entire body blushes and starts to tremble against him in anticipation. 

You watch as he brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks them hungrily, moaning softly at your taste. “Move.” He demands with a low growl and nudges you to the side of the bed so you’re perched with your ass barely on the edge. 

His warmth and strength is gone from behind you and you sit back on your elbows as he climbs off the soft, pillowy mattress and onto the floor between your legs. 

Your breath catches in your throat as he hauls your left leg up on to his shoulder but you reach out for him and run your fingers through his mess of loose, dark curls. 

He hesitates and looks up at you with a hint of annoyance in his expression. “What is it, Luna?” His voice mirrors his frustration as he kisses the sensitive skin on your inner thigh. 

“I want to see you— really see you…” You murmur, gripping his hair gently and tilting his head, guiding his kisses down your upper leg. “Please, take your tunic off, General… let me admire you…” You coo to him softly as his teeth graze your skin. 

Marcus chuckles and his lips curl up into a smirk. “Little Dove wants to see me?” He questions you with a raise of his eyebrows. 

You nod and feel your heart start to race. “I’ve never seen you… really.” You admit to him breathlessly as his fingers glide across the skin on your other thigh. 

Without a word he stands before you with the smirk still on his face, and with practiced fingers he unties the belt cinched around his waist. His eyes never leave yours as his fingers pull the fabric up over his thighs and then his hips. 

You want so badly to look at his cock but you don’t, you gaze stays locked onto his as he slowly lifts the tunic over his stomach and chest. 

Finally, once his face is covered by the tunic, you take in the sight of him. Every naked inch of him. His chest is broad and strong and covered in scars, old and new. His tight, muscular stomach, also marred with battle wounds, looks so soft. His entire body is sun-kissed and perfectly golden. 

Marcus drops the tunic on the floor beside him and stands there so you can take him in a little longer. His left hand gently rubs his lower abdomen while his right hand hangs at his side lazily. 

Your eyes trace every line and contour of his body until your gaze rests on his hardness, jutting from a thatch of dark curls. Your eyes linger on him, even though you’ve seen his cock before, it still makes your mouth water. The very tip of him is flush– almost purple and he’s already drooling. 

Marcus takes a step towards you and is between you legs. He wraps his right hand around his cock and starts to stroke himself slowly. “Are you satisfied?” He asks, but you’re too focused on his dick in your face to answer him. You reach out and with your index finger swipe the bead of precum from his slit. Marcus shivers and sighs softly as you suck your finger into your mouth. He’s salty and bitter, but you’ve been dying to know what he tastes like. 

Your eyes flick up to him and then back down to the sight of his fist wrapped around his throbbing cock. “Can I touch it?” You whisper, eyes darting between his face and his groin. 

Marcus shakes his head and his hands fall to his sides as he sinks to his knees. “You’ll get to touch it, Dove. Soon enough. Patience.” 

You want to protest but he’s inching closer to your cunt. Now you’re panting and he’s barely touched you, he’s just breathing against your slit. 

His eyes flash to yours, “You smell so fucking good, Flora,” Marcus dives in, his tongue wasting no time to part your folds.

You gasp as the feeling of his mouth on you for the first time. He moves slowly but deliberately and with pressure around your clit as he positions your legs how he wants them; both knees bent with the ball of your feet on his shoulders. You push against him and arch your hips against his mouth. 

Marcus groans as you roll your hips against his tongue. One of your hands finds his hair, grips it tightly and uses it as leverage to grind against his face. His hands find your waist and pull you against him, putting more pressure behind his tongue. 

“Oh fuck, Marcus.” You groan loudly, unable to close your eyes or look away from his face. His mouth is warm and wet and perfect. It's everything you pictured it to be when you'd lay here at night, thinking of him. His cheeks hollow and he’s grazing your sensitive flesh with his teeth as he sucks on your clit. “Fuck fuck fuck.” Your hips move with the guidance of his strong hands. 

Marcus pulls away from your pussy with a loud, wet smack and leans back in to deliver one last lick of your entire slit. “Fuck, you taste just as I imagined.” He pants softly. “Are you ready to touch me?” 

You nod up at him, not even upset that he left you on the verge of an orgasm and dripping. 

Marcus stands and straddles your hips and inches himself up until he’s practically sitting on your chest, the tip of his cock presses against your chin. 

"I want your hands on me," He growls, his voice low and rough.. "I want to feel you stroke me. Worship me." He makes his cock flex and bounce, the head of it tapping your chin gently. 

You wrap your fingers around his girth, marveling at the hard weight of him. It was everything you had thought it was going to be and more. He pulses in your grip, his skin silky and hot to the touch. Slowly, you start to stroke him, your hand gliding up and down his length. Marcus hisses in pleasure, his hips rocking into your touch.

"That's it," he pants, his eyes fluttering shut at your touch. "Just like that. Fuck, your hands feel so good..." 

you pick up your pace, pumping him faster. Your thumb swirls around the head, smearing his leaking precum. Marcus groans, his thighs trembling on either side of your ribs. His cock throbs in your fist, growing even harder.

You bring your other hand up to join the first, alternating your grips. One hand pumps his base while the other works his tip. “Do you like this? Are my hands very soft?” You coo up to him.

Marcus is panting now, his head thrown back at your ministrations. “So soft… don’t stop.” He moans. 

There is a knock at your chamber door and it makes both of you jump. 

Marcus growls quietly and his eyes snap down to yours. “Were you expecting a visitor?” He questions, sounding annoyed with you. 

You pinch your brows together, your hands still moving on his cock and you shake your head. “I never get any visitors. Just you.” 

The General bats your hands off his dick and you whine loudly in protest as he crawls down the length of your body. He quickly pulls the tunic back on over his head and creeps to the door with quiet feet. 

There is another knock, more urgent this time. Marcus’s upper lip curls in distaste and he opens one of the two large doors as you scramble to cover yourself with the sheets. 

It’s a man you don’t know, but he’s wearing full Roman army attire. Sword and all. Marcus eyes him and his nostrils flair. He says nothing to the man in front of him. 

“Sorry, General… but Lady Lucilla has asked to see you.” The man says shakily. 

Marcus doesn’t say goodbye. He doesn’t even shut the door when he leaves.

<-Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

Sorry not sorry for the slow burn/ cliff hangers. I love you all so much <3 All the likes and the reblogs on the last two chapters has me reeling. Thank you, I didn't think I'd get one single like, so I appreciate you guys all so much, honestly.

I'd also be willing... to like... take requests for lil one shots (under 2-3k) fluffy/ or smutty if anyone wanted to toss some into my inbox. <.<

[caseylovefics]

One Year Of Jikook Recs: 2023 - 2024

Over the last year, I've read a lot of Jikook fics, some old and some new. Many of them are explicit, FYI but this is a list of everything I bookmarked that I thought, at the time, would be worth sharing eventually. I believe there is something here for everyone here. Huge shoutout to all of these incredible authors - if you like something on the list or have any recommendations, give them some love and let me know!

Friends To Lovers:

Burn for You (50616 words) by Charmander Bachelor Jungkook and whipped Jimin have a turn in the relationship after a third party helps them...connect.

Friendly Favours (76125 words) by dontknowwhatimdoing Jungkook asks Jimin to fake date him and that sucker is dooomed. In the best way. So many adorable scenes and scenarios.

i remember thinking i had you (44676 words) by mrsmorality Unrequited love Jimin is hard and Jungkook kinda annoyeding but still cute.

Nevermind (81173 words) by rkiveink Jimin and Jungkook were best friends but haven't spoken in years. Jungkook, now recovered, helps Jimin while he mourns a close friends from his band who passes away. It's a very raw and honest fic. I found it refreshing to read something like this after a series of super fluffy fics, though in the end this is also soft in it's own way.

Run Into Sin (85356 words) by eumorious Kinda friends/roommates who are going broke and struggling to meet rent enter a porno competition to make money. You can imagine where this goes next and yes, it's raunchy and still domestic at times. Would recommend.

No Homo (75666 words) by snatchim This is just crack up. So funny and still funny even when the no homo joke is done to death. Jungkook convinces his homophobic best friend to do some 'no homo' acts after a spontaneous threesome. Who knew all you needed was a threesome to get a boyfriend these days?

what am I, darling? (18960 words) by paliampelo Heartbreakingly well written unrequited love from Jimin. Jungkook flits around from person to person until he finds his hyung's lips surprisingly irresistible. I really love some of the dialogue in this and the first kiss scene is just *chefs kiss*. You wouldn't believe how many times I read that shit.

Hybrid Fics:

Devil Dog (151164 words) by Charmander Uggggh why is everything they write so amazing? I think I read this like 2-3 times in the last year. Hybrid Jungkook and human Jimin who has a sick up his ass but has a wonderful character arc. Fantastic read. Recommend this to everyone!

I See Summer in Your Smile (28115 words) by frenchfries4life Oooof. Jaguar hybrid Jungkook is sliiick ya'll and I love how relatively transparent his character is in this fic, and it still works. Definitely recommend this for anyone who needs to be eased into the hybrid world, though this one kinda blends with some ABO themes.

Fantasy/Magical/Demon Fics:

NIGHTSHADE BLAZE (131143 words) by carameLIZed_suga I truly believe this is a MUST READ for every Jikook fan. With the amount of recognition it has, I would be suprised if you haven't read it honestly. It's just so so so good. Probably the third or fourth dragon fic I've read, but definitely my favourite so far and probably the fic I've re-read the most.

Soul To Sell (43003 words) by carameLIZed_suga Demon's Jimin and Jungkook have been fighting and thirsting over eachother for years and it is a wonderful spectacle to consume. Super hot...and devilishly well paced for those of you who are impatient readers. At this point just read all of caramelized suga if you like a couple of their stories.

you love me, you love me not (164358 words) by melodrunkcherry In a series of unfortunate events, witch Jimin makes a love potion for Namjoon and Jungkook drinks it. They're at a witch school, coven thing. I can't fully remember this but it was enchanting and a very fun read.

you shine in this pitch darkness (161271 words) by tinymiminie Demon Jungkook rarely visits earth, but when he sees Jimin's colourful soul and fluffy hair, he's whipped. This is a different take on demon Jungkook that was enjoyable to read. Jimin is just a ball of squish and Jungkook an evil puppy.

ABO:

Bloom In Rebellion (189138 words) by infinitetwinkles This fic had refreshing world building and themes that was nice to see in the ABO world. Read this really quickly and wish I discovered this author sooner!

everything you do (i want to do it with you) (10113 words) by serendiplini Sickeningly sweet friends to lovers. Tae is so done with their shit and I love it.

A Tale of a Lonely Pup (51325 words) by Vitamin_PJM Angsty true mates fic set in university that is super cute!

The Rogue (226263 words) by Allnighter_Friend Oooooo if you haven't read this. Read it. Just trust me. I devoured this fic and it just gives you all the feels. Jimin is standing in as the leader of his pack while his father is sick. There are rogues in the forest and when out on a hunt with the crew, they catch said rogue, Jungkook. Many good twists and turns and some good enemies that actually do bad. Unlike those soft enemies who are kinda just...there.

Broken (before I met you) (36611 words) by peachywritten Soft. So soft and cute at the heart. Good pacing.

(k)not stuck (11550 words) by carameLIZed_suga Raunchy neighbour/nemesis read that was also pretty funny.

A Tale of Amber and Honey (74960 words) by carameLIZed_suga Old friends to lovers with some well deserved angst in ABO world. Really enjoyed this!

chasing dusk, catching dawn (17221 words) by carameLIZed_suga First ever fic I've read featuring and enigma wolf. Really primal hunt-and-be-hunted dick-swinging competition and a bit violent in the good way if you can handle it.

Harder Than a Diamond (21652 words) by carameLIZed_suga Another raunchy fic. Probably less violent than the one above but crime boss Jungkook is always a win.

Clueless with a Pinch of Chilli (35000 words) by Vitamin_PJM Their friends set Jimin up on blind dates after he gives up on Jungkook. Jikook are two idiots who deserve each other and are cute and clueless in the process.

In A Rut (21935 words) by Gylliweed Jungkook struggles with violent ruts and Jimin helps coach him through it. Really like how this was approached.

The Gathering (43406 words) by Gylliweed Every year trials are completed and the winner can ask for whatever they want. Jungkook and Jimin are both gunning for the win when they start catching feeeeelings. Damn I loved this one. Ate it up like a sweet apple pie.

Fragile (68881 words) by Neoneun_na I don't remember this super well but I do remember it being soft. Good feels.

The Courage To Live (128832 words) by infinitetwinkles Timid Jimin and caring Jungkook. Classic dynamic and story.

There for You (29788 words) by Ocean_View_Song Softmore Jimin is pining for senior Jungkook who gets possessive when a threat arises. Very cute and we love a good jeonlous story.

To Hurt and To Heal (40587 words) by rinnieluv Solo mama Jimin comes across Jungkook when on the run and so the story unfolds. Touching connections and cute pups.

Nepenthe (81318 words) by cakeandruin Jimin is an omega who goes against the packs norms but meets an alpha werewolf who can transform, unlike him. Everyone is scared of Jungkook and they live on the outskirts of the pack together in the woods. It's a domestic and sweet story, would probably even call it a classic ABO.

your fingerprints on my heart (5850 words) by nimy Jimin thinks alpha Jungkook can't stand him, but the cutie is misunderstanding the dummy's intentions. Nice, quick read.

Other Fics:

Sunflower (152054 words) by merryasoul Enemies to lovers fic that I waited to read. Me. Waiting. Patiently to read this because it was so good. I remember stumbling on this and staying up all night to read the first chapters that were out because the great characters and details captured me and the build up over years with Jikook really hooks you. I seriously recommend you read this if you haven't already and give the author some loove.

soft animal (46729 words) by paliampelo Jungkook has amnesia after a car accident. We all know the first original Jikook amnesia fic and I think this is a nice one too in its own way.

the joy of sex (31410 words) by decompositionbooks Roomates fic - Jungkook makes love in his room and seems like a sex god and Jimin is curious. Solid.

Top Chooks (17177 words) by carameLIZed_suga Rivals to lovers fic where Jimin and Jungkook play gay chicken at a party. Hilarious and hot.

And thats a wrap!

If you made it to the end, thank you for reading. I tend to pile up fics in my bookmarks and wanted to clear them out somehow - I've decided, this will be my approach going forward so stay tuned for the next one.

[violetsiren90]

New Rules | Don't pick up the phone.

Table of Contents: Teaser (Prologue); Don't pick up the phone; Don't let him in

Pairing: f*ck boi!Jisung x f!Reader; Jisung x Minho

Genre: choose your own adventure; drabble/vignette series; angst and smut; f*ck buddies; college/post grad

Summary: Jisung has had you wrapped around his finger for the last half-decade. You know good and well that it's time to move on…but you can never seem to follow your own rules long enough to shake him.

*Based on the lyrics of "New Rules" by Dua Lipa

Content warnings: 18+ (minors, dni) Explicit smut; toxic relationship; partying (alcohol and marijuana usage); characters commit sexual acts while partaking in controlled substances; sexual frustration; masturbation; fantasizing; flashbacks/backstory; lust and resentment; possessive Minho; dom Minho/sub Jisung if you squint; voyeurism; hand job; orgasm

Word Count: ~1600

Author's Note: Well, here we go! This is gonna get messy. Thanks to your poll responses (thank you so much for voting!!) we have a Minsung plot line. The next poll will be at the end of the drabble. I hope you enjoy this sinful little indulgence! ❤🔥

As always, if no one has told you today, please know that you're loved, and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

You know he's only calling 'cause he's drunk and alone.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you watch your phone buzz beside the stove. A groan escapes your lips as you let your head sag between your arms, outstretched to clutch the cheap, white tile of your kitchen countertop.

You’re wet just from seeing his name scroll across the caller ID.

Pushing away from where the device continues to ring out, you press your fingers to your temples and screw your eyes shut.

No. This has to stop.

The sudden phantom sensation of a pussy drunk tongue laving lazily over your swollen clit has you shuddering violently. As your eyes snap back open you shake yourself, stripping off your sweatshirt, suddenly hot.

The phone begins to buzz again, but you retreat into your bedroom, shutting the door as you lay against the cool softness of your comforter. You know what needs to be done…or rather, you know who absolutely cannot be, and your dominant hand has already begun to breach the the waistband of your leggings. You can feel him, smell him, taste him. You chest heaves.

You hold the onslaught of unholy memories at bay as your fingers brush over your mound.

Unfocused gaze aimed at the blades of the ceiling fan as they cycle hypnotically, your mind reaches for an image you’ve recalled and pushed away countless times. Your lips part as your fingers find your warmth. It was the moment that had sentenced you to the madness, an erotic and hollow awakening. You could see it now, as if three years hadn’t passed.

…Jisung.

Han Jisung was a fruit that hung from the tree in the center of the garden. One that many thirsted to taste. You ran in very different circles when you first met, sophomore year of undergrad. He was living life in the fast lane and you were diligently working your way through a six-year education plan. And yet, you became something like friends in the minutes between two and three pm on Tuesdays and Thursdays. He would drop by the student success center for assistance with business economics, though you rarely talked about that, and amongst the textbooks and index cards and vending machine nourishment, you discovered him.

You found him to be different than he presented in a crowd, especially his typical one. He was shy and sweet and silly with an unbelievable amount of intelligence that he carried around like a key he hadn’t found the lock for - something that kept him awake at night and brought his nails between his teeth. When he wasn’t subdued by a quiet reserve, he wielded his boyish good looks and a charisma that could be harnessed at will with nearly total recklessness, and you fell no less a victim to his cheeky charm than the rest of the student body.

Of course, you’d known of him before he’d sat down at your tutoring desk that first day. Everyone did - and not a few in a way that had earned him a specific brand of notoriety. You’d seen them time and again, the passersby who waved and giggled with their friends at the recollection of a mouthful of his cock.

And you’d taken it for another part of his restlessness, the promiscuity - an easy outlet for all of that vibrating, frenetic energy. Until that night.

Jisung was in a punk rock group, and a good one for being so amateur. The five of them, The Maniacs, had established a fair amount of celebrity on campus. He was close with his bandmates, especially one in particular who you’d taken for his best friend - Minho. He talked about him constantly.

Lee Minho was another fruit on the tree in the center of the garden. Devastatingly handsome, his eyes and lips held a kind of cold cruelty that only seemed to sharpen his beauty, and he sang with the voice of a fallen angel. The senior was The Maniacs' front man and walking lingerie department, considering the sheer number of lacy underthings that had been tossed in his direction. Jisung worshiped him, and it wasn’t unusual to see the pair sharing a cigarette in a grassy corner of the quad, casually draped over one another like two cats in the sun.

Jisung lived in his world, and you in yours. Your circles turned with earth and the moon, intersecting and deviating in natural course. And then, on the Thursday before spring break that year, he did something he’d never done before - he invited you to one of his gigs. It was a house party at the vacation home of an old-money alum. You surprised yourself by saying you’d go. Uncharacteristic of you. You didn’t expect to know a soul aside from Jisung, and it meant calling out of your shift at work…but recently, you’d begun to fantasize.

You’d begun to dabble in dangerous and preposterous daydreams in moments between your encounters, and created a little monster he’d fed just enough with the invitation. You were a sensible person as a rule, and tonight you felt like being reckless. Like being indulgent. So you went.

You dressed the part. Did yourself up. Drenched yourself in your roommate’s perfume.

You showed up on the late side, and the band had already been playing when you arrived. He looked glorious strapped to a guitar in a fitted tank top and distressed skinny jeans, glinting silver hoops catching the light at his ears. You smiled at him when he found you in the crowd and he waved. Then, after the set, he found you, handed you a joint, and told you with a wink to save it for after the show.

Your heart pounded the rest of the night.

You watched him tear up the room with the rest of the band. You cheered uproariously. You danced with your drink raised over your head. If it was a dream, you were sleepwalking for all you cared. The more buzzed you became the fuzzier the lines between reality and fantasy began to appear.

You stayed late into the night, as you’d promised. And sometime after midnight, when the majority of the guests had dispersed and those who remained were locked in bedrooms or passed out on cushioned furniture, he found you. He took your hand and tugged you towards the backyard.

From the couch in the sitting room, sprawled out and sweating with smoke wisping from his lips, Minho watched.

Jisung led you out to the pool, and you both sat on the edge - you with your calves dipped into the cool water as he sat cross-legged beside you. He lit the joint, and you passed it back and forth as you talked. You talked like you always did, but with something new hanging in the air, an energy that had you humming with anticipation beside him. He was so relaxed. You wondered if it was the weed. You hoped it was you. And then he looked at you like he did in your daydreams and his eyes dropped to your lips.

Then his phone chimed.

Glancing at it he sighed and ran a hand through his hair as he stood and told you he’d be back in a minute. So you waited. And waited. Then you pulled your feet out of the pool, picked up your heels, and went to find him.

You didn’t have to look far.

The moonlight was streaming through the floor-to-ceiling glass of the wall facing the expanse of the yard and across the sitting room, casting the bodies of sleeping party-goers draped over chairs and loveseats in the cool marble of its illumination. Everything was silent and still - so the soft, desperate groan from the couch on the far side of the space was enough to pull your eyes to its source.

You sucked in a breath, your lips parting and mouth going dry as the scene before you seared itself onto your retinas like an obscene tattoo.

Minho was seated low on the cushions, the black leather of his shapely legs splayed wide to accommodate Jisung. The younger man sat in his lap, his back to Minho’s chest, skinny jeans pushed down his thighs while the older man methodically stroked his exposed cock. Jisung’s eyes were screwed shut, his features contorted in ecstasy - mouth hanging open as he whimpered and gasped.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away…and then you saw his. Minho’s. 

Gleaming and dark and full of a lustful wickedness, they locked you in their gaze over Jisung’s shoulder. As he watched you he began to twirl his wrist, tugging Jisung’s cock in torturous circles as he twisted and pumped so that it began to weep from its tip. Minho’s lips curled up in a sensuous sneer.

You should have run. You should have turned around and shut the door on everything. But you were hazy on weed and liquor and you swayed, frozen where you stood, as you felt a sticky dampness gathering at the gusset of your panties. It was the most arousing and gutting thing you had ever seen.

Minho’s left hand raised to snake around Jisung’s throat, two lithe fingers pressing at his pulse point. Jisung jerked and twitched over him, as if trying to restrain himself from writhing under the ministrations of Minho’s fist. It was intensely lewd, how naked he looked in all his clothes with his belly and cock and the tops of his thighs exposed to Minho’s touch. The zipper on the sleeve of the singer’s leather jacket kept time like a tinkling pornographic metronome as he jerked his bandmate closer and closer to oblivion.

Your pulse pounded in your pussy as you watched your friend’s face twist in carnal euphoria, hips jerking erratically as his white cum surged over Minho’s hand to drip over his bared tummy and hips.

You watched Jisung. Minho watched you.

Your eyes snap open and you pull your sticky fingers from your folds, crying out in frustration as your climax eludes you. Rolling over, you rip open your nightstand drawer to grasp for a vibrator.

The toy buzzes you brutally over the edge.

Your phone has stopped buzzing in the kitchen.

~To be continued~

[ataraxiaspainting]

Chrollo Lucilfer Yandere Analysis.

Yan Chrollo x F Reader.

Warnings: Yandere themes, kidnapping, not SFW (both non-con and dub-con), the reader is described as AFAB and uses she/her pronouns respectfully, forced tattooing, Chrollo having a god complex but that's nothing new lol, Stockholm Syndrome, stalking, parallels to religion (mainly Judeo-Christianity), implied body transformation (using Chrollo’s book), masturbation, manipulation, and violence/gore.

Word Count: 13k.

credits to @ddarker-dreams for the yandere MBTI and like everything she writes for this creepy greaseball (check her out if you haven’t already!!) <33333

another thanks to @depravitycentral for the inspiration! check them out too!!!! their general profile and nsfw profile for mr. chrollo specifically BUT everything they write is pretty good! <33333

one last thanks to @phasmophobia-territory for the ultimate yandere types list and @blughxreader for the yandere personality meme. both have inspired the unique qualities part of this analysis, so please be sure to check them out! <333

also, for quotes i tried to do something like genshin impact/honkai: star rail voicelines so i apologize if they aren’t good (ﾒ﹏ﾒ)

*~*~*~*

I look forward to living life with you from here on out. However, just know that there will be many different roads we will walk together on. Their lengths will depend on you, for better or for worse. As time goes on, however, I know that they will all end eventually.

→ Introduction.

The very definition of an empty shell, Chrollo has had his humanity stripped of him from a very young age. The only people who have ever made him feel something are all members of the Troupe or are buried underground, burning in hell or soaring above the clouds as angels, either one a much better existence than the life they all spent in Meteor City. So, when he sees you, someone who has been able to make him feel something without interacting with him at all, without the use of Nen, without even brushing your shoulder against him while running to your train in a hurry, he does not know what to do.

He feels like he is back to being a small child, roaming the streets and looking through dumpsters for anything of value trying to ignore the pain of the cuts and infections all over his body. You bring up a feeling he has not felt in years; fear. Despite this situation being far, far different from those times, his brain thinks otherwise. It sends him a fight or flight response every time he sees you, as much as he hides it, much like he hides himself among the crowds and crowds of people as he follows you home. You have resurrected a beast thought to be long dead, something innate, animal, almost carnal, without even lifting a finger.

Is this who he is, he wonders? He finally feels something, for once, a sense of belonging and identity and… humanity.

It fills him with a sense of euphoria, while you view it with dread every time his Zetsu slips for just a moment. You always look over your shoulder during those times and start walking faster, but definitely not enough to deter him, and it will never be enough.

→ Darling Character Analysis.

Creative.

Chrollo has a deep curiosity about the world and appreciates a darling who shares this thirst for knowledge and intellectual growth. The form of expression doesn't matter to him, whether it's through writing, music, or eloquent speech. What truly matters to Chrollo is that his darling can communicate uniquely and authentically.

In a concerning manner, Chrollo imitates his darling’s behaviors to an extreme degree, devouring everything they do with an insatiable appetite. It doesn't matter how his darling presents their interests to him, whether it's straightforward or not. For instance, if his darling mentions their love for playing the violin after spending days alone with only Chrollo for company, the next day a brand new violin will mysteriously appear on the table beside their side of the bed. Chrollo will secretly learn to play the violin himself, the one he purchased as well as the one he gifted to his darling, practicing when they are not paying attention or are fast asleep.

As a result, his darling may find themselves obligated to reciprocate this behavior by learning Chrollo's favorite musical pieces.

He will experience immense joy, perhaps so much that he will hold them down on the bed and shower their face with kisses while they squirm and kick. Even when they eventually stop, he will continue, disregarding their pleas for him to stop.

As always, his strength is overpowering, leaving you with no action to do other than to say no.

At least there is some form of care after it is all over and done with, although it always somehow involves blending with whatever activity preceded it. For instance, if it was playing the violin, he would play you with both your favorite pieces on the gramophone he put near the bathtub while giving you a massage and preparing a relaxing bath for both of you.

It is painful, more so than the usual ache between your legs, because he pays attention to your desires and exploits them, even when he appears to be gentle. The pain lingers, no matter how hard you try to disconnect from everything happening around you.

He gives you everything you want, and it hurts because you always know why.

Bold.

A darling who never hides their intentions and just goes for it would spark some sort of admiration in Chrollo, especially if they use their boldness on him as a manipulation tactic.

He finds it entertaining most of all, but also there is a small part of him that is grateful for it because it makes his darling seem more human to him and not just something to own.

Boldness is quite a human trait, one that he so adores, especially with those he holds close like fellow members of the Troupe. It is also quite a trait that can easily be manipulated.

If you attempt to flirt to lower his guard, he will flirt back twice as hard. 

When everything is over and done with, he will admit he knows exactly what you are doing as he kisses you again, you not kissing him back this time, as good as your acting was, much to your horror.

Resourceful.

Chrollo sees himself above the rest of man, a God in his way, so a darling who is quite similar to him he would adore.

That is not to say he could not fall for someone the complete opposite of him, someone who is impulsive and wears their heart on their sleeve and everything else he does not and cannot do, but the probability is low compared to a darling that plans everything and keeps their cards close, much as he does.

That makes escape attempts though, quite common, considering how resourceful his darling can be, like using a file to saw the metal in one of his safes or the iron on their leg keeping them in his penthouse. But he loves it, it is one of his favorite things about them.

It is endless entertainment to him, a sort of fight against himself, albeit he is much, much stronger when it comes to wits most likely. You can think on your feet as much as you want, but so will he.

He will mirror their actions until the end.

Independent.

Much like his beloved's cleverness, he derives amusement from their self-reliance. He takes pleasure in dismantling their barriers bit by bit until they have no choice but to rely on him completely.

Indeed, Chrollo views his beloved as simultaneously superior and inferior to him.

There is no equality between them, only a shifting power dynamic that his beloved will soon discover. They will never be certain if his actions, like retrieving their favorite snack from the top shelf of the pantry, are expressions of love or gestures of mockery.

At times, it may be both. At times, it may be neither.

His thoughts remain inscrutable, and he revels in it.

Cunning.

Chrollo loves it when your eyebrows furrow, when you’re deep in focus, especially when you are trying to come up with an escape plan and not noticing him right behind you, because of that expression on your face.

It’s unholy, the way he worships you with sacrifices both living and not. He wants to ruin you, yet keep you as you are. So, after a long time of pondering, he concludes. He will remake your shape, not enough to completely alter it, but just enough for your walls to tumble down and let him in. That is why while he will let you try and try again to escape, he will still attempt to get into your head. He is like a poison, a parasite, imprisoning you in your fears, insecurities, and plans that are doomed to fail sooner or later. It is what he wants to be, but he also wants to be more. 

More and more he will be, and more and more he will take from you. It is only natural to want more than what is given, correct? 

It is how Chrollo and the other Troupe members survived so long in Meteor City. They take and take, not caring who they hurt because it is human instinct to want and seize. He will argue as such whenever you try to guilt him because you will soon know that he holds no shame in whatever he does. He is selfish, and he wants to stay that way. He wants you to do the same, so he loves it when you fight him or try to run away because he knows it is only nature. Nature will run its course regardless of who wants it to not. Nature does not care, so why should he? Why should you?

But he also wants you to not be as selfish as him, despite him knowing that it most likely will not be unless you are broken down enough. But that is fine, Chrollo tells himself because that time will eventually arise.

Mature.

Maturity is an elusive quality that characterizes Chrollo, yet eludes him as well. It ebbs and flows like a breeze, carrying seeds to unknown destinations, beyond the perception of onlookers. Unfortunately, you, the observer, are an unwilling participant in the multitude of games he plays and the various disguises he dons. Occasionally, Chrollo can act impulsively, adopting yet another facade acquired from others in the interludes of his life. However, there are moments when he patiently waits for the opportune time to strike, akin to a cunning serpent. But this outcome relies on your level of vigilance or innocence. Perhaps, one day, you'll find it best to surrender to his will. Chrollo eagerly anticipates that day.

Hardworking.

Chrollo feels a mix of jealousy and a desire for control when he sees someone truly dedicated to their pursuits. He wants to replicate their passion and adopt a similar persona. At the same time, he is intrigued by their determination and ambition, as he wants to understand every aspect of their character. This admiration creates a thrilling challenge for him, as he seeks to imitate their drive while also appreciating it. He wants to both admire and exploit this trait to engage in a game of cat and mouse until they submit. Perhaps it would be good to do just that, to prevent yourself from getting hurt again.

Observant.

Chrollo finds great pleasure in the thrill of the hunt, especially when his keen-eyed darling begins to notice subtle indications of being watched. These signs, carefully planted by Chrollo himself, make his darling increasingly cautious. For Chrollo, taking risks brings great rewards. Although these signs are intentional, they still hold, don't they? A lingering footstep behind them. A faint smile on a stranger's face, an unfamiliar figure lurking in an alley near his companion's residence. These signals confirm that they are being stalked, and Chrollo is entertained by the fact that their sharp instincts assure them that this is no mere coincidence or misunderstanding.

Logical.

Chrollo's beloved should possess some semblance of logic, even if it deviates from conventional understanding. The key lies in their thought process, rather than adherence to reason. This cognitive approach, be it driven by emotions or rationality, captivates Chrollo. They meticulously evaluate facts, evidence, and outcomes, exercising caution in moments of perceived advantage, as well as during bouts of insecurity and danger, where they must think quickly on their feet. This mental calculus can either serve them well or inadvertently lead to their downfall. They carefully weigh the pros and cons, thus fueling Chrollo's insatiable desire for the fun of the chase, which hinges upon ultimately catching his beloved in the act.

A Leader.

If you hold a position of leadership, whether at work or among friends, this situation will be even more perplexing and distressing for you. In an instant, you were no longer in charge, forcibly removed from your familiar surroundings and confined. Your authority, influence, and status, which held great significance, have been stripped away. You may experience a profound sense of helplessness and powerlessness as if all your hard work has been unjustly taken from you. Chrollo, as your captor, will seek to exert even more control over you if you possess the characteristic of leadership. He finds it ironic that you are now compelled to follow him, forever robbed of the opportunity to lead while you remain in captivity.

Confident Outside, Insecure Inside.

Chrollo takes great pleasure in this particular attribute, as a mere few words, be they soothing or otherwise, have the power to manipulate you effortlessly.

You find yourself compelled to dance and sing, controlled by invisible strings or some intangible force, as there seems to be no other recourse in this predicament. After enduring prolonged isolation, you will unquestioningly revere Chrollo's words, no matter how distorted they may be, treating them as a testament to be praised. And Chrollo eagerly anticipates the arrival of that day.

It instills fear in you, as both of you are aware that such a day will inevitably arrive.

With a few choice words, Chrollo can elicit tears or smiles from you, a feat that few others have managed to accomplish.

You despise it, while Chrollo utterly loves it. Intelligent.

Intelligence encompasses a wide range of abilities, making it possible for Chrollo to be drawn to various types. However, what truly captivates him is a darling who possesses either linguistic or interpersonal intelligence, or even better, both. He desires someone who can effortlessly decipher people's intentions, using words that ignite a fire within him, even if those words are aimed at him or others.

The type or types of intelligence his darling possesses greatly influences their relationship. How he presents himself in public, whether as a kind gentleman or someone who keeps his distance, depends on their emotional intelligence and intuition. Additionally, Chrollo finds it incredibly appealing when his darling shares a specific interest that is completely new to him. This not only allows him to learn something new but also adds another mask to his ever-expanding collection.

Someone who is emotionally intelligent, like his beloved, would pose a challenge for him to manipulate. They possess the ability to understand him better than most, making it all the more satisfying for Chrollo when they succumb to his desires. After all, as Chrollo often says, the greater the risk, the greater the reward.

→ Yandere MBTI: CAMS. (Cruel, Aware, Manipulative, Strict)

Chrollo possesses great skill in dismantling individuals but lacks the necessary expertise to reconstruct them according to his vision. Unfortunately, you have become an unwilling participant in his experiments. Share with him your deepest anguish and vulnerabilities. Chrollo also portrays himself as a universal remedy, claiming that he holds the power to alleviate all your suffering and resolve your troubles, provided you heed his advice.

However, he waits until he has captured you, and your defenses have crumbled. In that moment of vulnerability, when you are cut off from the world, consumed by sorrow, unable to eat or speak, he reveals himself as a deity. He extends his hand to you, leading you along a path he meticulously constructed. This path is filled with suffering, a never-ending cycle of waiting for both of you. But at the end of this dark tunnel lies Chrollo's ultimate desire: your affection.

What is your ultimate pain, what is your ultimate wish? I can provide anything and everything for you, beloved if you do not stray away from the light.

If you happen to encounter him in public before he abducts you, it is because he willingly allows you to do so, aiming to create a favorable impression that will prevent you from suspecting his true intentions. However, if you do find yourself growing suspicious, it is not without justification. Nevertheless, he will persist in attempting to dispel your doubts by showering you with more gifts and displaying gentlemanly behavior such as pulling out your chair and kissing your hand or inner wrist. Yet, everything appears excessively flawless, to the extent of inducing nausea. Everything is so… flawless all of the time, but only when you are around him and him alone. Ironically, despite Chrollo's desire to dissuade your wariness towards him, his tender and kind gestures only evoke fear.

Chrollo effortlessly switches between portraying himself as a divine figure and a malevolent force, adapting to the circumstances at hand. On one hand, he displays an uncanny perfection, never making a mistake and seemingly possessing an understanding of your thoughts and emotions even before you do. On the other hand, he reveals his true nature as pure evil by casually initiating a bet to see who can consume the most alcohol, leaving you as an unwilling participant in this game of his. As soon as you become intoxicated, he unveils himself as the embodiment of wickedness, groaning as your clothes rip off and you cry his mouth is on yours and he keeps murmuring things into your ear that are so much more terrifying than sweet and-

Panaceas are eternal, refusing to fade away, regardless of your preferences. And so is this situation with me, my dearest.

Chrollo often repeats the phrase that he would sacrifice his life for you. However, there is doubt as to whether he truly means it. His actions, whether they be subtle or overt, inflict daily harm upon you, both mentally and physically. He disguises his hurtful behavior as casual conversation, a serious one, and everything in between. Chrollo's self-centered nature raises the question of why he would make such a claim.

You remain unaware of his true intentions, as Chrollo holds the knowledge of what is genuine and what is fabricated close to his chest. He perpetuates this ambiguity, ensuring that you will never uncover the truth. Once again, Chrollo finds himself in a position of guilt, but the specific charges remain unknown. As an impartial judge, you can't discern between deceit and honesty when you have never been taught the difference. Chrollo, determined to maintain this state of uncertainty, ensures that the truth remains elusive, no matter what lengths he has to go to to make sure it stays that way.

Chrollo possesses the ability to assume various roles. He can portray himself as a reliable partner rather than a deceitful captor, a compassionate individual rather than a mass murderer, a savior rather than someone in need of rescue... The possibilities are endless. This charade is not merely a game to him, but a necessity to maintain his façade. Even if he desired to, he could never remove these disguises, as he is oblivious to his true identity, because who is he without his lies? Nothing? It is a sorrowful predicament for both me and him, you will think someday, one that may prompt you to ponder whether it is Stockholm Syndrome or your inherent empathy for others.

At some point, you will allow him to take what he desires, whether it be when he reaches a breaking point and loses control, or when you become desperate for any form of human interaction.

Whenever you are in need, call out my name. I will be there to provide whatever cure you desire for the ailment at hand.

→ Unique Qualities.

Yandere Type: 

Possessive.

Chrollo in one word would be selfish, and he himself would not deny that it suits him quite well.

Whatever he touches turns to gold in the most metaphorical sense. Whenever he sees something he wants, he will take it. Everything Chrollo takes either has rhyme and reason to it or none at all. He turns them into gold as a sign of who owns them. Even if you have fallen or will eventually fall prey to this touch. The golden touch immobilizes you so you never ever leave him. 

Like King Midas, he is selfish, and he takes pride in it. He is never humble in anything he does. That much is certain. He holds you in his arms at night like he knows your weight in gold, that he could never lose you as he lost himself all those years ago. His kisses are gentle when he wants them to be, or they can be as aggressive as he wants them to be. You’ll come to learn that it does not matter what you want, what matters is what Chrollo wants. Does not having a say in your hell hurt? Or does not having a choice help you justify to yourself that you must escape this?

Monitoring. (Watches From Afar / Direct Contact)

Really, it is Shalnark that does most of the work here, but it is still worth mentioning, especially since what Chrollo cannot get through traditional stalking alone, he asks a very teasing Shalnark to get for him. Though, if Shalnark fails, Feitan is put to the task, much to Feitan’s quite less than subtle annoyance, not that he would ever voice it. Through this trio, the work is separated into three strategies.

Chrollo’s way of finding information is as classic as it comes. Either he is observing you go about your usual day, to that coffee shop you visit before going to work, to the library you frequent on the weekends, to a park you like walking in to see the birds and to get a change of scenery while you read, or he is inside your home, looking through drawers, sampling some leftovers even from your fridge, and making a literal list of things to buy you either later or in the present moment and things to take with him when he inevitably steals you away. Shalnark’s way comes through the internet, through placing cameras in your home and showing Chrollo the footage day in and day out, and perhaps even making an online friend of you if you are that social with other people. To him, it’s all child’s play, especially with finding family members and friends of yours for later, to perhaps ask them questions under the guise of a fellow friend of yours even. But the information that neither Shalnark nor Chrollo can get from stalking alone relies on Feitan, which is where all the finding people you know and love trickle down and puddle at the bottom of this sort of vial of differing plans. This is a last resort, sort of, because there are better things that Feitan can be doing, really, but he is nothing less than loyal to Chrollo and the other Spiders, so he’ll find people who may know the answers his boss was looking for.

He does not blame Chrollo, because if the information was something even Shalnark could not find, it is something so secretive that it could metaphorically be so beneath the waves that it is on the bottom of the ocean floor.

Feitan takes on the role of the more experienced diver because he wants to make Chrollo happy.

Thankfully for most of those you know, only a maximum of perhaps five people are flicked off before you are brought to whatever penthouse Chrollo has bought for the next month or so. The rest can continue with their lives as it was, not that Feitan cares or Shalnark cares or Chrollo cares, except for poor, poor you.

Removing Nuisances. (Murder Likelihood: 8/10)

Similarly to gathering information about you, dealing with rivals follows a similar sort of hierarchy. Chrollo follows them, albeit with far less care and perhaps even stealing a few things along the way, if the rivals are rich enough, though that is quite rare to happen. Instead, he would try to threaten them through anonymous emails or letters, perhaps even with a photo of them sleeping thrown into the mix. But if that does not work, Shalnark is up next, digging up past searches and buyings that the rival perhaps regrets or wants to remain hidden. It could be anything, really, and soon this information will start to spread like a flame until the rival’s reputation is utterly ruined. If the rival is still stubborn about wanting to be romantically involved with you, Feitan is last, burying a corpse underground that looks far from the human it once was by the end of it all, and Feitan, unsurprisingly, likes this sort of business rather than simply lying in wait for a friend of yours to unfortunately cross his path.

Perhaps even Chrollo will join Feitan in this session or sessions. It sometimes happens, when Chrollo is too pent up or feeling especially angry, although he hides it well with a smile that is a bit too wide, at this rival in particular. By the end of it, when both he and Feitan look like they took a bath in blood with their clothes on, Chrollo laughs, and Feitan snickers. He feels good, both of them do. Maybe this is why Chrollo is so taken with you, Feitan wonders. The power and control that comes with you… it’s utterly addicting, isn’t it?

Adam and Eve. (Absolute Isolation) (Kidnapping Likelihood: 10/10)

Before he takes you away, Chrollo makes sure that whatever he cannot replace he takes with him. This includes memorabilia, photos, family heirlooms if you have any, and even annotated novels you have on your bookshelf with notes sticking out of them like sore thumbs. He manages to take it all away easily, just like he does with you. Chrollo, despite how selfish he is, still wants in some capacity to make you happy. In your “adapting stage”, you may be able to hide away from him in the bathroom and lock the door, but at least you will have the choice to continue whatever hobbies you had before that Chrollo allows you to do while you are self-isolating. 

He sees this small reason for you not to hate him entirely as a win. A triumph followed by many others to come.

Collector’s Habit. (Comfortable Imprisonment / Chains + Cages)

Chrollo’s penthouse is lined with things both of significance to him and you. Almost all of it is stuff that he has stolen, however, not that he cares. The paintings lined up in the dining room, the many pretty dresses put in your closet and you are forced to wear, the jewelry that he clasps onto your neck and fingers and wrists like chains, all of them are stolen in some capacity or another. 

The things that he had stolen from your home all look like they belong there, almost. Your favorite pink beret placed next to a porcelain plate of macaroons and fruit a note telling you to get ready for a date later in the evening, an old photo of you placed in a frame that ought to be at least three hours worth of your salary, your most cherished books all lined up next to Chrollo’s own, all the covers and sizes somewhat similar to one another that it almost drives you mad. It brings Chrollo comfort, while it brings you ire. 

Possibly, you’ll read one of his Dostoevsky pieces when you think he is gone, or you’ll try on one of his many fur coats when it gets too chilly or when you are curious. But curiosity always finds a way to kill the cat, because when you think you are not going to be caught, Chrollo finds a way to sneak up behind you and simply observe, smirking, even when you see him.

Attention-Seeking.

Chrollo has always been one to utterly enjoy being in the limelight. He loves acting parts, playing parts as classy as a Prince Charming to a part as scheming as a villain that has locked the princess in a tower. You get both, the unlucky person you are. He gives you roses and proclaims poems and confessions of absolute love and undying loyalty, but you then remember that he is the one that trapped you here, to begin with.

This life that was forced upon you is a fairytale very close to cracking and falling apart, but never does.

You are forced to be a helpless maiden waiting for a knight in shining armor to rescue her, but unfortunately for you, that knight is also the very evildoer in this story. So, you try to be your own knight, your own prince, but it will never be as close or as real as an actual hero. So, your attempts fail, regardless of how long they were in the making. You are not strong enough, not fast enough, and you simply cannot write your own ending in this whimsical tale if Chrollo is always aware of them.

But you come up with a plan that takes weeks upon weeks and months upon months for it to bear fruit. 

You'll comply with his desires and make your getaway when he least anticipates it. Thus, you're compelled to dance with Chrollo, flawlessly and without objection, to safeguard your plan. However, with each movement, it feels as though nails are penetrating your foot, for you're uncertain if Chrollo is aware of your actions, and it fills you with immense fear.

But it is too late to back out of this, so you keep on doing this waltz.

Eliminating Rivals. 

The basement, as always, is filled with dust and dirt with insects both alive and dead scattered on the floor next to Feitan’s equipment. Chrollo does not mind it, though, despite him still wearing the suit he wore when he was following you to the train station, the route you usually took to get back from your best friend’s house to your place. He does not like her, but he decides to let her still do whatever with her life as she pleases, unlike the person currently zip-tied to one of the rusty chairs with broken legs. As long as she does not try to seek to be more than friends with you, she’ll be safe from harm. Even though Chrollo’s gut is telling him that she will try, that she will kiss you, say “I love you” to you and maybe go on top of you in bed and-

He tries not to think about it, he is already behind schedule enough as it is, though he could just make Feitan do the work by himself. He tries not to think about it because he has to start preparing his penthouse for your arrival soon to come. He has already purchased some new comforter sets for the bedroom, along with some of the skincare products he knows you use in the bathroom. He’s busy, too busy to involve himself with something other than torturing this man and getting back on track. He focuses on the scene ahead, trying not to think about that friend of yours or the barista who always looks at you for a tad bit too long. If he let his emotions and not logic control him, he would have murdered half this town already and left love notes on their headstones.

He looks at the man, covered in his own blood, his own vomit, his own feces from being confined there for days before Chrollo arrived, deathly thin from starvation and dehydration. From what Feitan told him, Feitan gouged out one eye one day and the other eye the next day, leaving him blind and weeping, his vocal cords far-reaching past their limit, crying out gibberish like some sort of animal, something not too conscious enough of its surroundings to be anything considered even near human.

“Fei, do you hear that?”

“...I do.”

Sexual Drive: 5/10.

Chrollo knows most of what there is to know about sex, but not for his own pleasure. He uses this knowledge mainly in intelligence gathering, when Shalnark, Feitan, and even Pakunoda are not able to get the information the Troupe needs for their next heist. He holds sex with little to no emotional value because of this, since his love for the other Troupe members is high above what little admiration he could possibly hold for those people that he subtly interrogates while fucking them as gently or as hard as they want him to, whispering in their ear when they are feeling their most euphoric, asking them what dons are trading with each other and with what, asking them how the president of this company makes so much when the value of their imports and exports don’t exactly match up, asking them how exactly many secret passageways this mansion has… it’s endless, really, how much information he can get out of them. The human body is so vulnerable, especially when pain mixes with pleasure or pleasure mixes with pain or pain is alone or please is alone. Chrollo is grateful for it.

But when it comes to sex with you, Chrollo then finally sees the emotional side of this spectrum. Your bodies bond and become one, melting into one another as you both moan out each other’s name, lovingly yours and lovingly his.

This development does not surprise him because he does want an emotional bond with you in some sense of the word, he wants you to worship him just as much as he does with you.

Let us go, shall we? Before you could answer, his hand grabs your wrist, his grip making it impossible for someone like you to break away. We… have plenty to talk about and do, correct?

Violence Towards Darling: 3/10.

Don’t take this as a sign that he will not use violence on you at all. Believing that Chrollo's violent tendencies towards you are limited to slapping or ignoring you is a naive assumption. You soon realize that attempting to strike him is futile due to his lightning-fast reflexes. Fighting back against Chrollo will not resolve anything. Instead, you come to understand that he wants you to be like a pet, constantly performing tricks and obediently following his commands.

You wonder if he would also display you like a trophy. Uncertain, you contemplate whether or not you want to find out. Eventually, a few nights later, you dream of a life without Chrollo's constant control, where he does not touch you possessively and parade you around expensive events. You recognize that you are nothing more than his lapdog, his pet, his trophy.

However, Chrollo claims to see something more in you. Is he being genuine in his belief? Do you really desire to uncover the truth?

Violence Towards Others: 8/10.

In his search for you, he maintains his usual calm demeanor, though his eyes reveal his inner turmoil. Anger fills his vision, overshadowing any light. Surely, you couldn't have gone too far. He frantically scans the penthouse until he finds you on the balcony... in the company of someone else.

“Feeling intrusive, are we?”

He pays no mind to the identity of this person, although it's likely they are a former lover or at the very least, a love interest. Your declarations of love and reciprocated kisses leave no room for doubt. How they managed to reach this height is irrelevant to him.

Without uttering a single word, he opens his book, channeling an unseen force from his hands to your ill-fated companion, causing them to plummet to the ground amidst screams from both of you.

After a few moments of tears, mumbled apologies, and the utterance of their name, he informs you that a serious discussion will take place later. With that, you silently follow him back inside. He will contact Shizuku to handle the cleanup of the body in due time.

Vanilla / Kinky

Favorite Kinks:

Begging.

Both inside and outside the bedroom, Chrollo likes having you beg, from you begging him to let you orgasm to you begging him to get you that new book in that series you were quite interested in before you got stolen away. It’s a power dynamic no doubt, it makes him feel wanted by you, needed by you, loved by you. That’s all he wants, really, your love and devotion and for you to promise to be his sun and moon and stars, for you to say he is bigger and more important to me than the sky, for you to hold him, for him to hold you.

No matter how much time passes, how many different places you both stay in and leave, how many countries you visit for leisure or for Chrollo's next big scheme, he refuses to break this unhealthy pattern, even for your sake. He enjoys this routine, so why would he alter it? He will occasionally tease you for being rather selfish, even as you both grow older and wiser and your hairs both white and your skin wrinkly. He will even say it to you when your corpse is resting peacefully in its coffin, as he sheds tears for the first time in many years.

Every time please, Chrollo, please, I… comes out of your mouth, it sounds like to him, the most beautiful martial vow. 

He locks each and every one into the deepest crevices of his heart like unwilling prisoners, despite how small and cold and dead his said heart is, at least to you. They don’t want to stay, but they have to because I want them there in remembrance. Just like you. Poetic, is it not?

Voyeurism. 

The screen in front of him showed you coming out of the shower, your body dripping with soapy water with a towel on your body that barely covered anything and a smaller towel covering your hair that was put up in a clip. Shalnark placing cameras all around your place made things much easier to know things about you that he could not find out through traditional stalking alone. He is grateful for him.

Slowly, as he smiled, one of his hands went into his pants, then his boxers as he caressed the half-hard thing beneath them both. He kept groaning as it got harder and harder, his breathing getting faster and faster. He is not sure how much time had gone by, but he knows that there was now liquid, slow and warm, running down his legs and is all over his hand, and as always, you were none the wiser.

Oral. (Receiving)

Your knees are on the floor, having been there so long it hurts. Your neck is curved backward and your mouth is in pain from his large manhood in there like an unwanted intruder, as you desperately gag and choke and cry. The only reason you have not successfully gotten away is because one of his hands is grabbing the back of your head and pulling you every time you pull, hopelessly still trying to fight.

Your hands are tied behind your back with silk to not damage the skin of your wrists, while you desperately try to claw your way out of them.

You’re in the clothing that he wants you to wear, as usual, though calling it clothing would be an overstatement as it hardly covers anything. A black thong with a short skirt, along with a low-cut bralette. As always, you have no say in the matter, and even though you are unable to utter a word, he showers you with affectionate words, as fake as they seem.

Favorite Parts:

Your Thighs.

It is more of a comfort thing than anything else, really. The way that it is one of the softest parts of you, one of the meatiest parts of you, and, most of all, the easiest parts of you to grab and hold and kiss and press hickeys into and fuck.

It’s only natural for a thief to want to keep their prized possessions close to them, is it not, my darling? 

While Chrollo still places you all of his mementos and diamonds and paintings among the many, many other things he has hidden away in his current penthouse, seeing you as better than all of those things combined, he still sees you, in some ways, as something to be sanctioned, whether it be for your own safety or just his pure, unadulterated selfishness, or perhaps both.

So, he holds onto your thighs at all times pretty much, squeezing the flesh for either attention or just because he needs some security that you are still there with him, no matter how close you physically are to him.

He will occasionally rest his head on your lap, reciting his book aloud while you are obliged to listen. He never dozes off because he is too cautious for that, although he yearns for it. His desire to lie down and have you run your fingers through his hair as he gradually drifts to sleep almost surpasses all his other needs. It may sound like a fantasy for him, no pun intended.

However, it would be a nightmare for you, whether he falls asleep or not. But as always, Chrollo hardly cares. If you dare to object, your longer skirts, shorts, and one pair of sweatpants will vanish for approximately a month, only to be replaced by outrageously short clothes that barely qualify as attire.

They’re soft, just like your lips, your voice, just everything else about you, you, you. It’s the parts that most perfectly describe you, he’ll say, forcing you to tolerate all his touches because his hand is not going anywhere, just like the rest of me, sweetling.

Just stay still and let me see how plush you are just for me, alright?

If he ignores all the goosebumps and the shivers, he can assume that this is what heaven feels like. It must be, right, dearest?

Your Collarbone.

Despite everything else about him, Chrollo can be a sort of traditionalist when he wants to be. This applies quite rarely though, only really affecting the relationship he has with you, both inside and outside of the bedroom.

He likes how the bones stick out, the crevices just so perfect for him to slide the tip of his fingers across, just so perfect for him to kiss and bite, just so perfect to hang necklaces from so they are on a sort of diagonal and reflect the light, making them shine and making them highlight the hickeys that have been pressed into them, right below them, and right above them…

He forces you to wear all kinds of accessories and low-cut shirts that he can find, not caring how much money it would cost, just to see some diamond-encrusted choker on your neck. He says in the calmest voice he can muster that it is no big deal, darling, just trust me and I got this for you and you alone, now why don’t you be a sweetheart and put it on? You might think that a choker and a collar are essentially the same, as they both tightly grip the neck like a suffocating hold. However, Chrollo pays no mind to this, as owners don't concern themselves with their pets realizing they're wearing such a sign of possession.

Your Feet.

Chrollo appreciates art in his own unique way, specifically when it comes to sculpting and realism. He finds your feet to be truly exquisite, along with the rest of you. Despite your attempts to ignore it or cover them up, he has a clear fondness for your feet. Your toes are round, your heels are perfectly shaped, and your soles fit perfectly in his hands when he places heeled shoes on them. In secret, he also enjoys the scent of your feet, although he would never admit it. He would rather die than confess. 

Your feet are cute and can become sweaty and sticky, making them easy to hold onto, just like your thighs. 

Those traits really remind him after you orgasm, with you of course begging repeatedly for it a few moments before he lets you.

It's a hidden pleasure for him, even if you were to discover it, he would keep it to himself. You won't be able to get any information from him. If you do happen to find out, don't be surprised when a substantial portion of your jewelry drawer is filled with anklets.

His Fingers.

Chrollo admires his hands more than most other parts of his body. He trims his fingernails every two weeks, putting hand cream every time he steps out of the bath, never skipping this routine of his. The reason he admires his hands so much is that despite all the bloodshed and other dirty acts he does with them, they remain on the outside clean. It boosts his ego, in a way.

There are just so many uses for them, he loves flipping the pages of his favorite novels with them, he loves cutting food for both you and himself with them, he loves squeezing your thigh as either a warning or a sign of love… there are just endless possibilities, at least from his perspective.

But his new favorite thing is to fuck your clit with them, and yours alone.

Is it a privilege, then, that only yours can bring him such joy? Whether you believe it to be so or not, it holds no significance, for Chrollo finds pleasure in this, and only his satisfaction matters, given that he is the one who has taken you captive.

Please, Chrollo, fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, I can’t take this anymore I-

His movements are flawlessly executed, almost unfairly so. They are deliberate yet unhurried, demanding your submission. However, he will only grant you this pleasure if you plead for it. The act of begging will consume several minutes, perhaps even a minimum of two, leaving you in a state of desperation. Meanwhile, he will revel in your discomfort, relishing the power he holds over you. This perverse satisfaction is what he adores the most.

As you wish.

Inevitably, you will find yourself succumbing to your desires, unable to resist the overwhelming pleasure he provides. Despite your stubbornness, your willpower will eventually crumble under the weight of his expertise.

He derives immense pleasure from knowing that he alone possesses the ability to bring you such ecstasy. This knowledge fuels his ego, heightening his sense of self-importance.

His Words.

Chrollo has an insatiable thirst for knowledge, but he also derives great pleasure from imparting knowledge and amusingly embarrassing others. And when it comes to you, he takes it to another level.

He constantly showers you with compliments, comparing you to famous heroines like Juliet and Ophelia from classic literature. He insists that you possess the same beauty as any damsel in distress from those timeless tales. To prove his point, he even offers to acquire paintings of these fictional princesses and damsels for you to admire and compare yourself to.

Wanting a break from his constant attention, you agree to his proposal. Besides, you get the bonus of owning some exquisite artwork. What could go wrong, right?

Well, it turns out to be a colossal mistake.

Upon waking up, you find yourself surrounded by what feels like an entire museum filled with paintings of fictional damsels, duchesses, princesses, and queens. The overwhelming presence of these artworks threatens to suffocate you. And to make matters worse, Chrollo insists on meticulously going through each painting one by one, forcing you to endure this ordeal that could very well last for days.

Your legs resemble hers, your lips resemble hers, your feet resemble hers... every aspect of your physique and the muse's physique that he remarks upon, leaves you feeling incredibly exposed, more so than ever before.

The duration of this process is absolutely exasperating. It leaves you feeling as defenseless as a lamb anticipating its fate in the hands of a butcher.

His Knowledge.

Chrollo truly treasures his knowledge, viewing it as divine nectar from the heavens, if indeed it exists. This belief is so strong that he occasionally overestimates it, taking every opportunity to display it in a way that impresses you more than anything else he does, both inside and outside of the bedroom. Whether intentionally or not, he will state the obvious, like pointing out that the creature you're observing in the rose garden during your “date” is not a slug, but a snail. 

It frustrates you, but you acknowledge that it could be worse–he could forbid you from venturing outdoors altogether. 

Surely, that counts for something, doesn't it? 

…Doesn’t it?

Fantasies. (Consent / Non-Con) (Coercion / Brute Force)

If one were to make a comparison, they would compare you to a piece of art so beautiful, that it is instinct to witness, praise, and worship until their bodies all turn to mere dust, in which they will be swept away by those alive who do not want your refinement to be stained by those who have passed on. For what is a beauty without a beholder? Chrollo will gladly take up that role, as he is the only one worthy of seeing such a piece. You, leaning on the pillows, legs crossed, hair put up in a neat bun, wearing makeup that he has said he likes on you before, looking up at him like he has come to bless you with a mere glimpse of the divine power he holds, wearing the black lingerie he chose for you to wear this evening, made of lace with patterns of roses scattered about.

This is his welcome home gift, from both himself and you. He may have requested that you could partake in this, but since you are doing it without any complaint but instead loving doing the task at hand, he could consider him soon becoming one with your body for the evening to be an award from you for all the work he has done for the Troupe these past few days.

If such a prize is laid before him, ripe for the taking, why wouldn’t he? So, without so much as uttering another word, he starts to undress as you watch, a mix of genuine joy and interest laid out on your face. He hasn’t even touched you yet, and with this simple act, you are bound to him with the invisible thread of lust.

When his boxers are all the way down, he approaches, and you don’t blink, wanting to take it all in. Shall the fun start? When your lips meet, all reservations that you once had dissolve, as few as they are now.

(But don’t think Chrollo respects your boundaries completely when it comes to sex; if you deny him enough, over the course of months and months, he will break his composure and show you where you belong; underneath him.)

→ Strengths.

Realities. (Your Own, His Avow) (Patient / Impatient)

The being that is above you in this bed is unlike any human you have ever met before. His looks and personality are all artificially crafted, like some automaton made to resemble actual living things, but do not stray far from their roots, what they were made for, and what they were made of. I’m real, you think, I’m real. Chrollo is not.

He’s aware of everything you do. Every step you take. Every word you say.

He is aware. He possesses knowledge of all things, much like the god he feigns to be. His understanding of emotions is as keen as his logical reasoning, resulting in a situation of dread that pertains solely to you.

It instills fear within you because he holds the key to all knowledge, while you remain in not-so-blissful ignorance.

→ Weaknesses.

Lotus Eater. (Dreamy Idleness)

Chrollo, despite his attempts to appear superior to others, is not without his flaws. If those around him stroke his ego, he becomes overly confident. Yet, if one were to try the opposite approach, it would have the same effect as boosting his ego. He is cursed with arrogance, always believing he is superior to others, even some members of the Troupe. Perhaps you can use this knowledge to your advantage. Faking affection could lower his guard and further inflate his narcissism. It is a strategic move, preferable to engaging in a physical fight that you cannot possibly win. 

Therefore, when you believe you have the opportunity to escape when his guard seems lowered enough that he won't immediately pursue you, you run. At that moment, his facade will crack, his eyes will grow emptier, and the hollow husk chasing after you will not resemble the Chrollo you once knew.

→ Daily Life.

Welcome. (Day One)

Chrollo remains a mystery begging to be left unsolved.

He rises at his usual hour each morning, and it's a rarity to witness him actually sleeping. His breakfast consistently consists of sausage and eggs, seasoned solely with salt and pepper, as he avoids other spices. He purchases fresh bread from whichever local bakery happens to be closest for the week or a few days ahead. Occasionally, if you're fortunate, he may bring back something sweet while out and about, such as a chocolate-filled croissant or a cherry jam-filled danish. However, trust, whether in platonic or romantic relationships, is something that must be earned.

Interestingly, it appears that regardless of the circumstances, Chrollo seems to possess a certain level of trust that you won't make any foolish choices. On your initial day in this penthouse, he simply greeted you, patiently waiting until the effects of the drugs wore off, allowing you to cry on the bed until your tears ran dry. He comforted you, softly shushing you and gently caressing your cheeks with his thumb.

Yet, he never becomes too intimate.

Was that his motive? Is that why he opted to masquerade as a compassionate gentleman rather than a captor? Instead of asserting his authority, he chose to console you, demonstrating that such solace could be snatched away in an instant. You were oblivious to his true intentions. On that initial day, you wept more than any other day, the taste of mint on Chrollo's breath and the aroma of coffee still etched in your memory. He would inflict further harm, and for the sake of your sanity, you believe it is preferable for him to remain an enigma, shielding you from the repulsive monster lurking beneath his attractive facade.

What Could Be. (And What Is)

Strangely enough, there are still parts of your life after Chrollo has captured you that would still sort of count as normal enough that you could turn the other way and ignore all other cosmic horrors that are happening in the general vicinity. You could still decide what you want to eat and drink that day, what to watch, what to read, what time to wake up and what time to go to bed, what to write in your diary (that not-so-strangely has its lock missing now), listen to the morning birds or to the music that Chrollo allows you to listen to (which is most of it, shockingly)... the list really is endless, really, aside from a few things that you forget sometimes, much to future you’s horror.

But sometimes you forget on purpose, to divulge in the fantasy Chrollo has carefully crafted for both of you, either to fool him or your walls really are as broken down as he wants them to be.

He finds it nice when you ask him questions about whatever place he has rented for the two of you for the time being, the location at hand most likely being related to the Troupe’s plans to steal whatever is of value. He likes to show off, and to listen to him talk for hours requires the patience of a saint.

→ Punishments. (No Punishments / Tortuous Punishments)

Welcome Again. (Failed Departure)

The penthouse looked to be the same after you ran out the entrance door that you lockpicked. The fireplace was still lit. There was still a smell of peppermint in the air along with some scent of coffee, lattes maybe. Everything looks the same, just as it always has. It nearly scares you more, how calm and warm this place is, than the hand that has a grip on your wrist so tight that you feel like he will dislocate it in the very least.

But he does not look angry, but that smile is not good at all either.

He does not say anything as he closes the door behind him, turning the lock on the door so it will remain that way. He does not say anything as he continues to drag you, albeit a bit more tight in his grip now that you are within his grasp once again. Whatever you say goes in one ear and out the other, and you know better than to struggle and scream, because you do not want this day to result in yet another bloodbath, and it would be useless anyway, even if someone came to rescue you. That is why, like the sort of pet you were trained to be, you bite your tongue and obey. He seems to not be angry now, but who knows what awaits you once you are in the bedroom, where most talks and actions are the consequences of your supposed crimes. You can’t really breathe, but that is alright. Chrollo will help you every step of the way after all, as the dutiful owner he has come to be.

Perhaps a pet is all you will be.

He wants you to look up at him like some god, some deity that you worship with all your being. But you can’t, not yet, and Chrollo knows that. Perhaps some methods unknown to you but known to him can help, can’t it?

He hopes so for your sake, but what do you hope for, wish for? You don’t know, and maybe never will.

Venus Fly Trap. (Temptations of a Liar)

Chrollo is well aware of the diverse array of predatory flowers, each manifesting in its own unique way. Perhaps you too possess such characteristics, with your alluring fragrance and honeyed speech, deceiving him into a false sense of security before stripping it all away. However, there is one crucial detail you seem to have overlooked. What transpires when a venus fly trap ensnares a prey that surpasses its own size and devours its own kind and others, rather than the typical fly it ensnares?

Undoubtedly, they suffer. Yet it appears that this lesson has eluded you thus far, hasn't it?

You have displayed kindness, sweetness, and a willingness to comply, within certain limits. Undoubtedly, you possess some degree of skill, though not enough to deceive him, the enigmatic masked orchestrator of this theatrical production.

Therefore, it is without much remorse that he renders you motionless with delicate silk and persuasive words that possess the potential to sting, should you ever dare to push him too far.

However, deep down you are aware of the truth, just as he is aware too. If he doesn't take a firm stance, what other undesirable situations will you find yourself in? With a single hand, he flips open the book, while using the other to shush you.

“A shame,” He says, turning the pages. “A crying shame, really. The sky is so lovely tonight… Who knows when we will get this scenery again, hmm?”

You don’t know what he will do to you. 

…Does he?

→ Quotes.

Hello.

Greetings. It is truly an honor to meet you face to face like this at long last, [First]. There is no need to introduce yourself to me as I already know who you are. That, and… hmm. That, and I think you are not all there right now. Please, I recommend relaxing and listening to what I have to say. But just to make sure, try to speak to me… as expected.

Chat: Ballet.

All dancers must put themselves fully into whatever moves they do. I suppose that can be the same thing for you and me.

Chat: Athenaeum.

Libraries and archives are some of the places I enjoy going to the most. Maybe if you continue behaving, I’ll take you to one nearby.

Chat: Reimbursement. 

Quid pro quo, darling; I assume you know the best ways to compensate me for the broken locks?

When It Rains.

The rain is perfect for a day of staying inside. Though, hehe… you’ll be indoors no matter what, right? Good thing you have me as company today. …What do you mean? I leave sometimes, mainly to get you things might I add. I suggest being more grateful if you don’t want that koala plush to disappear.

After It Rains.

Sigh… the smell of morning dew and the sounds of birds chirping… simply marvelous. Let’s go dance on the balcony, but be sure not to get your new shoes wet and slip. I would hate to have to bring Machi again.

When Thunder Strikes.

Aw, are you going to cling to me so cutely whenever there is a storm? I wouldn’t mind that, I’ll even give you more blankets to hide in if you wish. …Wait, dearest, come back… sigh… of course she hid under the bed again.

When It Snows.

So cold out there, isn’t it? If you ask nicely, I’ll give you back your socks and slippers. Go on.

When the Sun Is Out.

Let’s go on a walk tonight when it’s not so hot out. The sunset’s beauty will only be second to your own.

Good Morning.

Good morning, love, I made coffee. Feel free to use one of the creamers I got you, and there is oat milk near them somewhere in the fridge… Hm? I have never really been a fan of sweet drinks, so black coffee tastes good to someone like me. 

Good Afternoon.

Sure, you can cook lunch. But allow me to cut the ingredients and heat sources. We know how you used them last time.

Good Evening.

It’s so quiet you can only hear the crickets chirping. It’s quite a romantic atmosphere, isn't it?

Good Night.

Ah ah ah. No bed for you yet. Give me a goodnight kiss first. No, you can’t sleep on the couch either. Or the floor. If you keep refusing, I’m going to ask you more questions than yesterday. …That’s better.

About Chrollo: Tattoos.

There is something comforting about them, I think. No matter what the person does to reject it, it will stay. The permanence of such an act should also be what you should be. Now, bite me again and you will sooner than later find yourself in a tattoo parlor. Am I understood?

About Chrollo: Lies.

Don’t say that, my love. I’m not lying to you, I’m just picking what parts of the truth to show and hide. There is no harm in that, I think. 

About Us: Home.

This place is much more human with you in it. Do with that as you wish.

About Us: Cull.

Life and death have a sort of agreement. A contract if you will. The more lives taken by your hands, the more your own life is put at risk. Quite poetic. Like everything else in life, there must be balance.

About Us: Matrimony.

Being bound by just a few words… The very idea is beautiful in my opinion. If you want, we can get married. It is not like anyone else is going to put that pretty ring finger of yours to good use, anyway.

About Us: Panoply.

Anything you want you shall receive. Just say the word. Unless it is already here, which is a possibility.

About You: Humanity.

The human psyche is truly fascinating, don’t you agree? All it takes is a few words or a few actions and it all comes crumbling down. Like you.

About You: Epiphany. 

Not a man, not ten men, not a hundred men can ever provide me with the same joy you give me. You’re special, you know? You make me feel… alive.

Something to Share.

“Be glad as children, as birds in the sky.” A quote from Fyodor Dostoevsky. But… birds are constantly migrating to better places, so really, are they grateful and glad for the gift of life?

Interesting Things.

I see you are doing experiments with pH again. Just be sure to not use all of the vinegar, please. And no, vinegar cannot melt a door, for the final time. 

About Nobunaga.

He thinks more with his heart than his head. But he means well for the Troupe. Or himself when he makes someone call to order takeout for him. 

About Feitan.

I learned a lot of torture methods from him. He truly is the best at what he does. As for social skills… not so much. But everyone has their ups and downs, and that is Fei’s.

About Machi.

One of the most loyal people I have ever met. Also one of the most in tune with their wants and needs. If she thinks of something to say, she’ll say it without a doubt. She is very transparent when it comes to that kind of thing.

About Hisoka.

Hisoka… he is very… out there, isn’t he? But he is valuable to me, so I give him free rein to do whatever he wishes.

About Phinks.

One of the physically strongest. Though also one of the only ones to ever get a laugh out of me. Shizuku once asked him why he did not have any eyebrows, and the way he stopped talking and stared at the ceiling caused us all to snicker. Feitan did earn a blow to the head by the end of it because Phinks does not hit women… He is much more gentlemanly than he appears.

About Shalnark.

When it comes to computers and such, Shalnark is the person to do it. He was the one to convince me to get a newer phone model and taught me how it worked. He kept chuckling as he did, and every question I had asked earned a wide smile in response but no actual answer. He says I am an… “old man at heart…?”

About Franklin.

He is not the most talkative one out there, but if ever comes to games to decide matters, he is the one for the job. Once, Uvogin betted fifty thousand Jenny if he ever beat me in chess. Franklin managed to almost win in the end, but he gave up at the last moment. He said he couldn’t bear to do that to me.

About Shizuku.

At long last, she at least remembers my name. She is quite charming in her own way… I see why Franklin took on a sort of caretaker role for her.

About Pakunoda.

Paku… Paku is one of the sweetest people I know. Whenever I didn’t feel well, she was the first one to come and help me feel better. She even fed me her rations, regardless of the tough times we were put through. I should ask her to make me soup again, I have missed the taste of it…

About Bonolenov.

When he trusts you enough, he has quite a humorous and proud side. He is very proud of his culture, and as someone who did not have one as a child, I find it very admirable.

About Uvogin.

I swear he could drink enough beer to kill a whale and still not be satisfied. The same goes for fights. Any challenge goes, whether that is an eating or video game contest.

About Kortopi.

His copying ability is quite useful, and Nobunaga wanted to give him a haircut using his sword. He declined of course, much to Nobunaga’s disappointment. …Hm? A copy of you? No, you are priceless, and nothing can ever compare, even a version of you that does everything I ask. There is a charm to your disobedience. That, and Kortopi cannot make living copies.

More About Chrollo: I.

Come. I got you some books for us to read together. But before you touch them, I must tell you that you can only read them while on my lap. Isn’t that such a great deal, dearest?

More About Chrollo: II.

“Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven…” Yes, I can see the parallels between this line and myself. Is that why you decided to show me this? …Oh, you just wanted an excuse to call me Lucifer again. Do what you wish, I suppose. But please put that book back on the shelf where it came from when you are done. You know I hate it when you mess up the categories. …Hm? Don’t do that, or I won’t get you any more mochi. …You know my threats aren’t empty, my dear.

More About Chrollo: III.

…Do you need something from me, dearest? No? …Why am I asking? So you just happen to be pressing your chest against my arm for no apparent reason? …I see. Well, if you want my attention so badly, who am I to refuse?

More About Chrollo: IV.

Yes, that note is from me. That gift is also from me. Open it, please. …You should try wearing that set next time. Your thighs will stand out better. You were the one that was asking last night, not me. Ah, you are feeling rather adventurous these past few weeks, aren’t you? …Looking for something? Is this it? You know, I’m disappointed in you, to put it frankly. I thought you were coming around. You know what happens now, don’t you?

More About Chrollo: V.

Time has certainly sped by, hasn’t it? Let me give you a word of advice. No matter what happens, always remember those who have gotten you to where you are now. As a result, your situation can prove to be much less isolating that way. …Yes, that includes me. For when you are alone, my dear, your mind always finds a way to eat you whole.

Chrollo’s Hobbies.

Leading an orchestra and executing a grand theft operation share fundamental principles. It is imperative to maintain a commanding presence, ensuring that others adhere to your lead. Collaboration becomes the pivotal factor in achieving triumph during such endeavors.

Chrollo’s Troubles.

I find it perplexing how some individuals effortlessly navigate life with a serene demeanor, rooted in their unwavering sense of self. Maybe it stems from a twinge of envy, or perhaps there's another elusive element at play. But being envious is part of being human, is it not?

Favorite Food: Black Squid Ink Carbonara.

It is briny, and salty, like the sea. Quite refreshing as well, especially paired with homemade pasta. Only the best quality is allowed. …I am not being too picky. Do you know how many children in Meteor City have grown up never eating from a fast food place, much less a local restaurant? I simply am greedy because I can now. I couldn’t before, and that is why I do so as an adult.

Favorite Food: Opulence. 

As an adult, my current ability to indulge in greed is a newfound privilege that I couldn't have experienced previously. Hence, I find it impossible to resist the temptation of adding an extra serving of truffle or caviar to my plate.

Least Favorite Food: Canned Cabbage.

One of the very few foods I refused to eat unless absolutely necessary was canned cabbage. It was slimy and always came in watery vinegar with mostly moldy parts… I was desperate, but not desperate enough to eat that. Machi, Nobunaga, and Phinks all agreed. Feitan didn’t, much to everyone’s annoyance.

Least Favorite Food: Waste.

Paku, Machi, and Feitan had a sort of pact that they forced on the rest of us to never throw away things that were still edible. According to Shalnark and Uvogin, moldy food is still edible. Phinks and I disagreed but… we got outvoted. 

Receiving a Gift: I.

Indulging in scrumptious meals truly possesses the power to alleviate all worries. So, how can I express my gratitude?

Receiving a Gift: II.

Oh? Thank you, dearest. …For your own good, you better not have put salt instead of sugar this time.

Receiving a Gift: III.

Ah... considering you seem to have a moment to spare, would you be interested in sitting down and enjoying a shared reading session? The choice of material is entirely up to you, of course.

Chrollo’s Birthday.

You are such a prize, you know? You’re in an outfit worth its weight in gold, actually, now that I think about it, diamonds. Autumn has set in, the weather gets colder, and the food gets warmer. Perfect time for spending quality time with someone, wouldn’t you say so? Please, allow me to do this with you, [First]. I have never really cared for this day if I am being honest, but… now that you are here, I feel like new opportunities are around every corner.

Birthday.

Happy birthday, [First]. Within reason, I would like to treat you to whatever your heart desires. Food, art, wine; anything, just tell me, alright? I will see to it. …Heh. I’m afraid a fall from this penthouse will not be enough to kill me. …No, I am not going to put it to the test, since I am certain about it. Please think of something else. The world is your oyster, dearest. But… remember that I can always close it before you can get to the pearl.

Feelings About You: Ethereal.

This feeling… I haven’t felt something like this since… Hmm? Am I? Quite the observation.

Feelings About You: Euphonious. 

…I miss your voice, you know. I always like it when you get caught up in a topic that interests you, no matter what it is. …But last time I took the gag off and took you out, you behaved quite terribly… Here, I’ll tell you what. I’ll take the gag off, and I’ll get you something related to your interests, and then we can talk about it. Does that sound good to you?

Feelings About You: Eternity.

We shall be together forever, bonded at the hip if we must be. I promise you. Do not worry about the details. It does not matter if you like it or not, because I will take care of whatever obstacles get in our way. Whether that obstacle is you or any… outsiders.

Feelings About You: Elision.

Do know that I do mean it when I say that I do want to make you happy. Yes, our relationship is less than ideal, but in the end, just know my feelings for you are indeed sincere. …I’m not exactly willing to take criticism, but I could try, perhaps. If you like to do so, I am willing to compromise, though.

→ Conclusion.

You never hear Chrollo in his movements, but you do in his actions when he wants you to.

He puts far more effort into the little things, the details than outright saying his feelings for you, or just telling you his threats. That mysterious gift that appeared on your bed while you were away at work, that just so happens to contain some of your favorite sweets? 

The bouquet on your kitchen table that was placed while you were asleep? The box of dozens if not at least a hundred pictures of you by your mailbox when you tried to file a police report? 

Chrollo is patient to a fault. You will never know what is happening, at its fullest, until it is far too late.

You can put as much blame on yourself as you want, and hate yourself as much as you want, for not realizing how dangerous this entire situation is. But this position under Chrollo’s thumb is so much more horrifying than you could ever imagine, so do not blame yourself for not noticing everything at once.

That is not to say Chrollo won’t try to degrade you into thinking this is all your fault.

Your walls will be as good as broken and crumbled down sooner than you think.

[lichenes]

#1 dad(dy)

based on those tweets/tumblr posts: ⓪ ① ② ③ ④ ⑤ ⑥ ⑦ CW: mentions of smoking, actor au wc: 571 .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚

The sound of clapperboard was heard as the day of filming began. “Today, due to immense demand, Gabriel Fouché, will be reading your thirst tweets!” Said the director with a bright smile. A part of the contract with the studio recording “Arcane” was to take part in a few interviews, this one was a bit- unusual for him. 

“RIP to Silco, you would’ve loved vaping ‘bandaged heart’, you would’ve been doing crazy smoke tricks on tiktok ‘R. N’.” He chuckled. “What does R, N mean?” Laughs could be heard behind the cameras. Someone answered. “Right now.” Gabriel nodded. 

“Well I did have to learn how to smoke cigars and do tricks with the smoke for the role. I do have to admit I am a habitual cigarette smoker so it was infinitely easier to master the art.” He paused for a moment. “As for the tiktok tricks - I’m a jughead when it comes to technology so unless there would be someone doing all the recording… you aren’t seeing those videos any time soon.” 

“The children yearn for the mines, and my photo underneath it.” He burst out laughing, putting his hand on his mouth. “Ahahah- okay, okay. Yeah they do.” 

“I think about this Silco moment every day, my god he’s so hot here.” Gabriel tilted his head. “Hmm… it seems most fans of Silco find him most attractive when he’s kicking the camera. I wonder why.” He put his hand on his chin in faux thought and then laughed.

“Sorry but older Silco ‘greater-than’ young Silco. I actually have to disagree on that.” He said. “Younger Silco was in one scene and he captured so many hearts, both on set and amongst the viewers, that Older Silco didn’t manage to do with all his screen time. Younger Silco is something special…” 

“Hashtag Zaundads, actually!” Gabriel got closer to the camera and put his hand to his mouth almost as to whisper a secret. “Me and Gerard actually kissed to prepare for the alternate universe episode, to really get into character, you know.” Gasps were heard in the studio. “I’m joking.” He said winking towards the camera.

“Silco’s left eye is missing eyelids so I guess he was sleeping like this every night. Exactly what happened I can attest to that.” He nodded solemnly. “Actually, SIlco just doesn’t sleep ever, that’s how he runs Zaun, he does not let his guard down even for a moment. Poor guy, he needs to relax more.” 

“P, L, S - please, I assume? - Stop posting Silco thirst he looks like my dad, and a comment left under that, is your dad single? I’d love to meet my doppelganger! Send me a message and we shall schedule it.” He said half-joking as an email popped up on the screen. 

“And the final one- okay who the hell was all over my dash two years ago thirsting over Silco, I understand you now. I want his whole wardrobe and he can read the dictionary to me until I fall asleep. I actually have a deal to voice a certain someone in a new project we’ve been working on with the cast so keep your eyes open!” He said. “And as for my wardrobe, I’ve seen some pretty talented people replicating my outfits! So it’s clearly easy to steal Silco’s wardrobe.” 

“Thank you all for watching!!” He exclaimed with his million dollar smile as the cameras stopped rolling.

.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚

masterlist

[jackiestarsister]

DuckTales (2017) series reaction

I never thought I’d be so entertained by the adventures of hyperactive ducks, but it turned out to be really enjoyable!

I never really conceptualized Disney’s mainstay characters (Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck, etc.) as real characters. They mostly seemed like mascots used in the Disney parks and merchandise, or stock characters that could be slipped into any kind of story. I didn’t see any continuity between different works featuring them, or know of any official canon timeline. The thing that usually draws me into a story is the characters’ development and relationships, so Donald Duck and his family didn’t hold much interest for me.

That was until YouTube made me aware of some of the characters and events in the DuckTales reboot. I learned some spoilers that intrigued me, and then did what I often do with shows that have finished their run: watch clips and sample episodes about the characters I’m interested in. But I realized that there had been a lot of buildup to what I watched, and I’d have to go back to the beginning to fully understand the story. So a few weeks ago, I watched the first episode of the old series to get a little foundation, then dove into the reboot. I watched the series finale tonight.

This show had a lot of things I love to see in stories: interactions between characters of multiple generations; parents and children learning to work together; long-lost or separated family members finding their way back to each other; and charming recurring characters. The structure was excellent, with plotlines and character arcs that carry through each season, and over the course of the whole show.

The voice cast is fantastic, for major and minor characters alike. Nearly every episode prompted me to look up the voice actors and figure out where I’d heard them before. It also reminded me of many other cartoons I’ve enjoyed, including Kim Possible, Steven Universe, Carmen Sandiego, and Voltron: Legendary Defender. A few episodes are clearly inspired by classic movies, such as Jaws and The Martian. And the more I research the show, the clearer it is that the writers love the source material and pay homage to it while building their own story.

I’ve never seen another Disney work where Donald and his family are fleshed out as characters with complex personalities and compelling arcs. The triplets Huey, Dewey, and Louie have different strengths and interests, and a pretty realistic sibling dynamic, instead of being basically the same person in triplicate. My favorite characters were Della Duck, Goldie O’Gilt, and Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera (voiced by Lin-Manuel Miranda!). But, I probably relate most to Huey’s eldest-sibling mentality and thirst for knowledge, and Webby’s enthusiasm and tendency toward obsession in hobbies.

The creed that “Family is the greatest adventure of all” was a little heavy-handed, but that does not make it any less true. Even though most of the characters are related, there is also a strong theme of “found family.” And another theme emerged through multiple characters’ arcs: embracing the unknown with courage and solidarity. That is something we all need now.

In short: DuckTales is one of those reboots that honors the past but also grows beyond its predecessor to tell a new and enjoyable story for both old and new fans.

“Face each new sun with eyes clear and true Unafraid of the unknown, because I’ll face it all with you.”

[astrobei]

hi i love your fics and I was wondering if you had any byler fic recs

thanks

hello there! in all honesty, i have not had the time to read a lot of byler fic as of late, but it’s been a while since i posted some recs so i’ll drop a few that i’ve enjoyed recently! as always, i do endorse every fic in my bookmarks to the highest possible degree, so always feel free to look through those for new reading as well <3

say it with your hands by pseudologia (@hellfiremike) — will is a new employee at the movie theater mike works at, and mike starts thirsting over will’s hands to a degree that’s downright detrimental to his employment status

GOD. this fic. i gushed in their dms immediately after finishing it because this might be my favorite modern will characterization of all time, and this is coming from someone who has a million and one takes on modern era will byers. this fic just checked all of my boxes — from the summertime romance to mike’s painfully in-character teenage angsting to will being a frequenter of star wars reddit threads and an enjoyer of sufjan stevens. and the TENSION. oh god the tension. i’ve read all their fics probably three times over each, and i also highly recommend like i am home again, a college au set during a halloween party which made me stare at my phone refreshing ao3 hourly until it updated, and can this be a real thing (can it?) wherein mike and will reunite in a gay bar. enough said

landslide by chamb3rs — the party’s senior year of high school

i don’t often reach for chaptered fics since i usually have such limited reading time, but i’m sooo so so happy i stumbled across this one. there have just been very few fics that have touched me like this one did. i blew through this in one sitting a few weekends ago and subsequently experienced the full range of human emotions (and then some) all in the span of a few hours. everything about this was perfect — the will pov, the weird liminality of transitional periods, the party and byhop family dynamics, down to my favorite portrayal of theeeee jennifer hayes in any fic ever. on top of all of that, this fic perfectly captures the heartbreaking euphoria of being in love with your best friend, and all the ups and downs that come with it. i crawled out of the ao3 tab covered in blood and my chest was hurting and i was shaking and i had damn near chewed my own arm off — and then i sent the link to my friend 10 minutes later and watched her experience the same exact thing like a train wreck in slow-mo HAHAHA

what a time to be alive by passerine_in_jade (@newlesbianprideflag) — will disappears and haunts mike from the upside down

i’m forever a total sucker for a good haunting metaphor, so it’s absolutely not a surprise that this fic is appearing on this list. the premise for this was so so so cool and interesting, and it’s another chaptered fic i’m glad i had a little extra time to read. the way the author had me rooting for mike and will the whole time even though half of the pairing was offscreen for a large majority of the fic is a highly commendable feat. mike’s unyielding loyalty to will and will’s constant faith in him felt so true to their canon selves, and there were so many moments that were so quiet and intimate and tender that i really felt like i was intruding on something. good good stuff

that’s what you get for falling in love by harriet_vane — will gets his first boyfriend in college, and mike, ever the ally, has very normal feelings about it

i want to preface this by saying that this fic is rated m, mostly just for mentions/allusions to sex, and one largely non-explicit portion of a scene in the last chapter. if that’s not your cup of tea, it’s easy to tell when it’s coming up and to skip past it without detracting from the plot, but i think it would be a greater detriment to not rec this fic at all, because it has quickly made the list of my favorite byler fics of all time. something about this take on jealous mike especially resonated with me — his inner monologue is simultaneously hilarious and depressing, and his obliviousness regarding his feelings for will feels so true to life without being overdone or cartoonish. you can tell just how much they really care for each other, and the conflict in this actually made me start crying because it felt so visceral and so fundamentally them. you can tell this author really understands their characters, and the love put into this fic is soooo palpable. it’s the kind of fic where you want to bonk their heads together to knock some sense into them, but you are helpless to do anything but hold on as you’re swung along for the ride.

finally, i try not to just rec fics written by my friends, but my recent reading list would be incomplete without these two wonderful additions:

the way you love me by strangeswift (@strangeswift) — byler exes (absolutely heartwrenching edition)

i’ve been hearing abby talk about her ideas for this fic for the better part of a year as she worked on it, and she actually edited and posted the first two chapters while i was visiting her! and by god is this world a better place with her byler exes concept in it, because if you want angst, you’ll never have to look further than her ao3 page. something about the way she writes will in this fic just makes my heart shrivel up and die in my chest — his quiet resignation, the bitterness (always love a good bitter will byers moment) and the Longing that never quite went away. mike’s characterization is also top notch, and you can really feel the chemistry between them during every interaction. at the time of me posting this list, chapter 4 is not yet up, but trust me when i tell you guys it’s going to soooooo be worth it. :-)

the end is here by bookinit (@bookinit02) — a speculative byler-centric season 5

if you’ve been following my blog for any amount of time, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that haven’s canon rewrite series is hands-down my favorite series across any pairing and fandom. her creativity with her season 5 concepts never fails to astound me — from the scripts she’s been working on as an alternative to the episodes she rewrote for s1-4, to her ideas for possible plot lines, and just incredible writing all around. i’ve had the privilege of reading through her scripts before she posts them to her blog (definitely go check them out) but special privilege bias aside, it takes soooo much skill to create such a visually powerful story in a medium that allows for such little narration, and the corresponding chapters just totally pushes it over the edge. pre-s5 required reading for every byler, and 100000% my new canon if the show doesn’t pan out

this definitely is not an exhaustive list because i have a million and one fics on my to-read, and one day i will get around to reading them all, but i hope there is something on this list that strikes your fancy!!

[augustinapril]

Heyyy Spence

So I saw that you wanted some batfam requests (especially platonic ones) so I was wondering if I could ask for a batfam (you pick whatever characters you want to be added) x bat!sibling reader who’s getting a special award but doesn’t tell anyone about it? Not bc they don’t think the family will care, they just think that the rest of them are busy and don’t want to bother them. They somehow find out though and are all there so surprise the reader?

If not- that’s totally fine too!!

Take care <333

Spider || Batfam

Paring: Batfam & gn!reader

Sypnosis: You're Brooklyns resident Spider, or The Insect, as Heaven likes to call you. It's a job you've taken with honor, and you're being thanked for it by the city. What you didn't expect was to see your family in the crowd.

Warnings: kind of a spiderman x dc crossover? r is basically the spiderman of DC, talks of heights, violence and terribly written fight scenes, reader is threatened by a villian, swearing, mentions of food, its poorly written I'm sorry!!

wc: 3.2k || nav || m.list

a/n: shout out to @lu-vin-it for being a character in this fic! he also happens to write so you should definitely go check out their stuff (that's a threat not a request). thank you @lemkay-luminary for proofreading!! <3 reblogs > likes!!

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Gotham City was constantly buzzing with life, along with death. It was a violent city, full of murderers, thieves, robbers, and villians drowning in a thirst for blood. More times than you could count, the city has stolen the life of people you've cared for. 

It held too many bad memories for you to stay. You loved the city, and it would always be your home, but you had a new home in Brooklyn, too.

Brooklyn gave you a breath of fresh air, here you could see the sun most days. It was calming, the warmth of it a comfort. You love it here and the people here love you in return.

"Spider!" A little girl from down below shouted, strawberry ice cream smeared across her face as she pointed up at you. "It's Spider!"

Her father gave her a light lecture on how it was rude to point when you attached yourself to the side of a building, offering the little girl a wave. She waved back, squealing in excitement at the fact that the Spider was waving at her. 

"Y/n, you know those guys we've been tracking for God knows how long?" Heaven's voice spoke through the comms, startling you.

"I don't, actually, I think they've managed to slip my mind." You retorted sarcastically as you jumped off and swung your way to a nearby rooftop.

"You were bitten by an insect, I can treat you like an insect." 

"Spiders aren't insects, they're—"

There was an annoyed huff that cut you off, it made you snicker. "Fuck you. I should make you do all this by yourself, but I don't. Be grateful. Anyways, so I've gotten a location on them, Visage is most definitely there."

"Where?" You asked quickly. Visage has been tormenting the city for a while now.

"Near Plymouth Church. They've been spotted in some run down building near it." 

"Thank you." You responded and the comms cut out.

That's when you jumped, arms behind you, the breeze pushed against your suit. It was exhilarating to fly through the air, being so high above everything else. 

Helping people in the way you do, swinging through the city and hearing people like that little girl call out to you was worth every risk the job came with. You'd put yourself on the line every time because you're here to protect them. 

Which brought you here, on top of some building across from an abandoned grocery store. Your eyes were glued to the doors, as you watched and waited for something to happen.

A man walked out, wearing protective green gear. It was Visage, you knew it was. There was no mistaking him and his rather ugly suit. 

"Visage, my man, what's up?" You jumped over to the power line nearby, standing on top of the wooden pole. His head snapped up to you, and the second it did, you webbed him. Jumping up you yanked him up with you. You grabbed ahold of his head and slammed it onto the pole. There was a crack in his helmet, him falling to the ground and letting out a pained groan.

"Fuck," You heard him hiss under his breath, struggling to pull himself off the ground. You didn't give him much of a chance before you leapt down in front of him, landing before swiping him off his feet.

"I'm gonna kill you," He raised his gauntleted hand and he fired at you from his spot on the ground.

It was one of his weird creations, Vistech as he liked to call it. It made you realize that villians are extremely uncreative when it comes to naming things.

"'I'm gonna kill you' blah blah blah, I've heard it all before. Your words mean nothing." You retorted, moving out of the way of whatever it was he shot at you. He had a nasty habit of creating new concoctions and testing them on you.

You were sure you probably seemed cocky, and the way he tensed made it evident he wasn't very appreciative of your attitude. "You're really annoying, you know that?"

After that he charged at you, gear adding power to his steps. Your senses spiked, making you leap out of his way. His gauntlet grabbed hold of your arm, as he throwed you towards a nearby wall. 

The impact knocked the wind out of your lungs, falling to the ground with a wheeze. You could hear his heavy boots hit the ground with each step he took towards you. You pushed yourself off the ground, then you lifted your hand and shot webbing at his face. His cries were muffled by the substance, his hand scratched to try and get the webs off. 

You fully pushed yourself off of the ground, wincing in pain. Much to your dismay, the second you were on your feet Visage had pulled off the webs. He ran towards you again and you were lucky to move out of the way on time.

You put your hand behind his head and slammed it full force into the wall, knocking him unconscious. You crouched down, inspecting Visage's guantlet, lifting the heavy metal. It was warm to the touch, most likely because of the weird substance in them.

You looked them over, searching for a way to remove them . It was more sophisticated than you originally thought, but you found it eventually. 

You knew Visage wasn't the highest of rank in whatever business he worked for, but he was high enough on there for you to get some information on the entire organization. 

You tied him up with your webbing, and when you heard police sirens you leapt up to the rooftop of the nearest building, Visage's guantlet in hand.

***

The fight had been all over the news.

Some people praised you for your efforts whilst others said you were nothing but a menace, but the mayor, much to your surprise, was extremely pleased with your work.

She made an announcement on television about wanting to thank you personally for everything you've done for Brooklyn.

Which led you here, stood near the entrance of the building the mayor did most of her work in. She looked elegant, black pencil skirt hugging her legs and waist, a matching jacket on top of a white dress shirt. She was so put together it made you nervous.

You didn't look put together. Not that you really could in your spidersuit but you still felt self-conscious. 

Yet she offered you a warm smile, holding her hand out towards you. "Spider! It's nice to meet you in person."

You smiled back, though she couldn't see it from underneath your mask. "It's nice to meet you too, Madame Mayor." Her hand was warm against the fabric of your suit.

"So you and I will just walk out that door," She began, pointing over towards the door. "And I'll greet the crowd, give a speech, and then I'll shake your hand once more. I'll warn you now, there will be a lot of people."

It was strange how you could fight dangerous people and yet the mention of a crowd made your heart rate pick up. 

You nodded, and she smiled again. Her heels clicked loudly against the white flooring of the office building, your steps quieter than hers. You made sure to wear your converse here. There had been many times you forgot to slip on your shoes before heading out of your bedroom window, your mind racing to find reported criminals.

The doors opened, sunlight shined through as you exited the brick building. There was an abundance of people in the crowd, the snapping of pictures and shouts of Spider filled the atmosphere. There were news reporters that surrounded the barricades of the stairs, keeping the rambunctious crowd from getting too close.

"Hello people of Brooklyn!" The Mayor waved, sun reflecting off of her white painted nails. The way she handled the crowd made you envious and it took everything in you not to teeter on your feet to calm the nerves. 

The crowd gave a series of shouts and greetings in reply, making the mayor laugh. She was good at this, but you suppose she had to be. That's when she introduced you, another wave of excited noise spilled from the ocean of people across from you.

"Hello." You replied as you waved and cringed at how awkward you probably sounded. Another group of greetings sounded around you.

People could be loud when they wanted to be, and that amplified in groups. You eyed them, and noticed the little girl from a few days ago again. She rested on top of her father's shoulders—her face was ice-creamless now—and her abundance of red waves was put into braids with ribbons tied at the end.

She made you smile from under your mask, as the beginning of the mayor's speech slipped past your ears. You moved your gaze from her, your eyes looked over the people and that's when you saw them. Your family in the very back.

Dick looked silly. The entirety of his outfit was just Spider merchandise and you were sure he seemed like an obnoxious fan to the rest of the crowd. Jason stood away from him, probably upset that he had to stand so close to Dick when he looked like that. He blended in more with the crowd, he wore simple attire that any normal person would wear in public. Not that he was normal, he just didn't like to stand out in such a way. 

Your father wore a suit. A very pristine suit, as usual, no one except reporters ever wore something so proper to an event like this. 

Steph had the biggest smile ever on her face, hair pulled back by a purple headband, dressed simply in a long skirt and a purple cardigan to cover it. Tim stood next to her, adorned in a sweater Bernard had given him and a pair of shorts. The both of them were on the opposite side of the crowd. Cass was not too far away. 

She had never enjoyed crowds, or people in general. You wouldn't have noticed her if not for your enhanced senses. She leaned against Bruce's car, the entirety of her black attire blended in with the car's paint. Damian was beside her, arms crossed. The warm weather had him in a simple pair of brown cargo shirts, his green t-shirt blended nicely with them.

Damian probably didn't want to come. Not that he didn't love you or anything, no he often talked about how you were the most tolerable out of the rest of his family, he just never saw the point in coming to something he could very easily watch on TV. You were going to make sure to thank him later.

You returned your attention back to the mayor. As she was nearing the end of her speech she turned to you. "—And I'd like to thank each and every one of you for coming here today. The Spider has done so much for our city this last year, and it seemed rude to not provide our hero a proper thank you."

Her hand reached toward you once again, but before she could grasp your hand an intense feeling of danger hit you. Your head snapped up, turning over and noticing a man—one of Visage's men it seemed from the apparel he wore—directing one of the  special guns directly at the mayor. You shielded her quickly, pulling her away just as he pulled the trigger. 

The crowd screamed at the sound, erupting in panic. You should've known this would have happened. Nothing is ever so easy.

 "Are you okay?" You asked the mayor, and she nodded, mumbling a thank you. You once her over just to make sure before jumping back into the crowd. It was almost as if the man multiplied in your short time of making sure the mayor was okay. 

"Can't you guys take days off or something?" You asked, annoyed when you webbed one of the weapons, yanking it out of his hands and sticking it up against the wall of a building. "Seriously, you guys are everywhere. I think you might need to bring this up with your boss."

One of them charged at you, which you swiftly moved out of the way but kept your foot in place, snickering when she tripped on the ground. 

You jumped, legs pushing you high enough to land on the top of a street lamp. You'd yanked one of the men up with you, slamming his head into the light before webbing him to it, leaving him dangling when you jumped down. 

"Do you ever shut up?" A woman shouted, irritated with you. She lunged at you, but hit the wall—hard enough as to where you could hear a loud groan.

"Only if you say please."

There was only one person left, he radiated irritation. It was easy to piss these people off. If it were a sport you'd have 1st place medals galore.

"And then there were two." You joked, watching as he pulled out a similar weapon to the first guys.

"Shut your fucking mouth!"

You scoffed, preparing yourself to attack him before you answered. "Do you people have no manners?"

It was a swift motion, webbing the weapon so he couldn't fire. He tried to rip off the webs before you got him in the face. His sounds of confusion were muffled, and you took this time to kick the legs out from under him, sticking his hand together 

Within minutes, you'd gotten all of them tied up. It was a swift battle—if you could even consider it one—and now you made your way back to the Mayor.

With a quick once over, you knew she was okay. Shaken up, but overall physically okay. You still asked to be sure. "Are you okay?"

She looked at you, offering a smile. "Yes, I'm okay thanks to you. Thank you again, Spider. For everything. I don't know where Brooklyn would be without you."

You couldn’t think of a response. Talking to people was hard, but talking to the Mayor was harder. Especially when she said something like that. “It’s no problem.” You said, though you questioned if it sounded awkward.

After assisting to make sure everyone was okay. You felt a small tug at the stretchy fabric of your suit. Your head drifting in the direction of the source, your heart warmed. It was the little girl from before. “Spider!”

You grinned underneath your mask, crouching down to see eye-to-eye with her, taking notice of the adorable crochet beanie in her head. “Hello. I really like your hat!”

She giggled, the brightest smile you’ve ever seen crossing her features. “It has you on it!”

"It does! Did someone make it for you?"

Her waves bounced around her head when she nodded, grabbing ahold of her father's hand and shaking it around. "My daddy made it for me! Isn't that right, daddy?"

He gave a proud grin, though it wasn't as bright as it would be if he didn't look so exhausted. "Yeah, that's right, sweetheart. I did make it."

"You should convince him to make me one," You joked, looking up at her father. "It's an awesome hat. I'm honored to have such a hat with me on it."

"She wouldn't stop pestering me until I finished," He replied, shaking his head with a chuckle. "She asked me everyday if her hat was done. She loves you."

You warmed and looked back at the child. "And her love will always be appreciated."

After a rather hard goodbye, he led her back towards their small car. It took a few hours, but eventually you were able to make your way back home for a quick meal. You had some spare time before you decided you were going to force yourself back out into the city, hoping to finally give yourself a chance to relax.

Though it seemed your plans had been foiled, the smell of Mac & Cheese filled your apartment, and the slight chatter of familiar voices bouncing off of the fake wooden walls.

"Alfred?" Your eyebrows rose when you saw the man that was basically your second father standing in front of your stove, a pot in front of him as he stirred a wooden spoon through the creamy noodles. "You're making Mac & Cheese?"

Alfred never enjoyed making Mac & Cheese like this, far more into homemade foods rather than the cheap store-bought boxes. He enjoyed putting care into his cooking, and boxed Mac & Cheese took that away. In his eyes, at least.

You set your stuff down, listening to Alfreds words even though he didn't look at you. "I would have made something else, but it seems this was all you had in your cupboard, L/n."

"Fair." You shrugged before you heard someone clearing his throat.

"No hello to your father?"

You looked at him and smiled. "Hello Father."

Jason snickered, as he crossed his arms over his chest. "You sound like Damian." His feet on your table made you send him a light glare.

"Better him than you, Jay. And get your nasty ass feet off my table." You shoved his feet off of the fake wood, as you ignored the glare he sent you when you walked by, and ruffled Damian's hair. "How's the favorite brother?"

He huffed in annoyance and shoved your hand away, an incoherent grumble being your only response.

"Y/n!" Steph interrupted, a blur of purple passing your vision as he gave you a swift hug, arms wrapping tightly around you. "We missed you!"

"I missed you guys too." You grinned, brushing a few strands of blonde hair that fell out of her headband behind her ear after she pulled away. "Where's Cass and Dick?"

As if on queue, Dick walked through the door, his hand in the air as he answered. "We're here!" He had a flare for the dramatics, his high-school yearbooks and his years of theater could prove it. 

Cass' entrance was far more tame, as she carefully walked through as to not drop the big yellow box in her hands,closing the door with her foot. "We brought cake."

"Cake?" You weren't expecting cake, and especially not store bought cake. Alfred would be quivering in his boots if he didn't have to hide his irritation. 

"You didn't tell us about the Mayor." Damian interrupted, his arms crossed. Irritation was written all over his face—which seemed to mask his slight pain about the topic—and you were hit with a sudden pang of guilt.

"Sorry, Dami." You began, as you gave an apologetic smile. You looked at all of them, trying to explain yourself. "You guys are all so busy, I didn't wanna pull you away from your work."

The explanation seemed silly now that you said it out loud. It was a stupid reason, your family cared about you a lot and it probably seemed like a kick in the face. You continued, words spilling out of your mouth in an anxiety consumed guilt.

"It's not that I thought you guys wouldn't care or anything I just— I don't know, I didn't wanna pull you guys away from something more important."

"No work could ever come above you," Bruce spoke quickly, taking your hand within his. He squeezed it, as if it were to make his words stronger with meaning.

And in a way it did, it reminded you that your family may be busy, but you all would always put each other first.

˗ˏˋ ★ ´ˎ˗

sorry this was all over the place!! constructive criticism is always welcome!! please consider reblogging if you did enjoy it!!

[justanotherflemethstan]

this is not a drill, this is a thread on the creation of Flemeth from David Gaider!! as kind of the self professed Flemeth stan blog around here, I had to reshare

(alt text and full text transcript of the images included)

Link to the original post

Full text from the images below the cut:

CHARACTERS - DAY THREE: Flemeth

I have a type. I admit it. There are certain wells I can return to repeatedly and always find something new to explore.

One of them is older female characters. Mike used to rib me about it. Consider Wynne. Meredith. Genevieve. And, of course, the biggie: Flemeth.

Why are they a type? I... don't know, honestly.

I guess I have a feeling that older men fade, they strive to regain their youth or establish a legacy and we've seen that story a thousand times, but older women? They become free to become something new. I guess I see so many possibilities in that.

I had a conception of who Flemeth was, and why, right from the very start. Her creation went hand in hand with Morrigan, as a being whose thirst for retribution hundreds of years ago attracted an entity (slight confession: I didn't know Mythal specifically, at the time, "an elven god" was enough).

I also knew where Morrigan was right and very wrong about her. Misconceptions of the truth are built into DA's foundation, and they were fundamental to this mother-daughter relationship I was building.

Like many seeds I'd put in the world, however, I had no idea whether I'd ever get to explore it.

Knowing that she was a character of possible future importance, if not a major player in DAO, I wasn't much surprised when she was one of the first cuts the art team made in terms of getting a unique appearance. Thus the "batty old woman" players met in DAO. Not as hard a cut as the Qunari, though.

Going into DA2, I wanted both Morrigan and Flemeth, but we could only have one. So I picked Flemeth. This was the game where she really got to come into her own.

I remember the art team coming and asking if it was OK if she got a new model, as it'd be a retcon of sorts. I didn't care. I wanted it.

I honestly don't remember whether Kate Mulgrew was cast before or after Claudia. After, I think? All I recall is that Cab came into my office one day and asked if Kate might be a good fit

The squeal I made was un-manly. Cab took that as a "yes". 😅

I didn't get to talk to Kate until DA2, however. Schedules being what they were, we had a tight window to record Flemeth... so I had to write all her scenes before almost anything else in DA2 was written, before I even had a team! Ack!

It was OK, though, for the most part. I knew where I wanted to take her, and a big part of it was going to explain her transition - to set her up for the future. So I whipped up a script in, like, two days and off we went. Kate was a marvel in the booth. She adored Flemeth and you could really tell.

I didn't get to meet Kate in person, however, until DAI. This came pretty late in its development, compared to when we recorded her for DA2, and we flew down to Virginia (to accommodate her schedule - she was writing her memoir at the time, I think) for a single session. It was going to be *tight*.

I was a mess. I was finally going to meet Captain Janeway... and yes yes, I know she's also more than that. But come ON.

When we sat down, I figured I'd have to talk her through the character all over again. It'd been years since that one session at the start of DA2, right? And even more since DAO.

But, no. Kate remembered Flemeth perfectly.

I remember sitting there as she told me how much she loved the character, how rare it was to get one with so much texture and possibility. She called out my writing - my writing! - and waxed poetic about how she viewed Flemeth's arc. I... I was floored. 🫠

Then we began recording. One issue that quickly reared its head was how Caroline had to speed through the lines if we hoped to finish. Kate was a trooper, and most takes she'd get it in one (which is rare), but I was alarmed because we weren't giving Kate time to read the VO comments on each line.

I brought it up, as there were some lines (so much sarcasm) that required nuance - Kate was getting them, oddly, but I was worried.

"Oh, it's fine," Kate said. "I read the comments as we go."

"How could you? We're going so fast!"

"I'm a speed reader."

Oh. OK, then. That certainly explained it. 😁

We got to the confrontation scene with Morrigan and she nailed it. Over and over. More than once, Caroline would make a call and, before I could even interject and say "no, Kate had it right, actually" Kate would explain exactly why she did it that way and why it worked for Flemeth. I was in love.

She did the "I will see her avenged!" section all in one go. I got chills. Then we got to the final scene.

You know the one. With Solas.

It was this beautiful moment. She took it somewhere quiet and sad... and when she got to that last line, we all felt it: Flemeth was dead. Everyone was in tears.

I suppose I could talk more about the process. How she started off aligned with Morrigan's original Delirium inspiration, but I didn't pull back her loopy way of talking as much (bet you wondered).

I still don't know why it was so easy to slip into her voice, but I'm grateful I got the chance. ❤️