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bluemotifofsleep · 17 hours ago

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i’m not the one you want, babe.

roommate!toji fushiguro x reader

content: swearing, not beta read!

PS: please do not be fooled, gojo is one of my favourite characters of all time, i just have to be mean to him for a bit… for the plot…

chapter one: running away is easy, it’s the living that’s hard.

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gojo satoru is a self-righteous, condescending prick with a head so damn big you’re surprised it doesn’t just fucking blow up. you wish it would, sometimes.

and look, you’re not… petty, you just have a strong moral compass. there are certain things you’re willing to put up with, and things that you absolutely will not fucking stand for.

number one on that list of things is the so called “honoured one” pointing his stupid self-righteous finger in your face and telling you that you’re useless.

…well, he didn’t exactly say it like that. he had a much more roundabout, holier-than-thou way of saying things, but you’re good at reading between the lines.

because he’s your older brother, and you’ve been dealing with his bullshit for your whole damn life.

he just has this… way, of shitting on people without them realizing it. to the untrained eye it may look like praise, but when he stretches his face into that stupid smile and squints his blue eyes condescendingly, no amount of sugared words will stop you from seeing it as the big “fuck you” it really is.

truly, it pisses you off to no end. he gets to drag everyone else’s name through the dirt, while keeping his the same pristine white as his hair. he gets the fucking sixteen-tier, overdecorated, extravagant cake that is his cushy life, and he gets to eat it, too.

if the guy wasn’t your family and you hadn’t known him forever, you’d probably pray on his downfall more often. unfortunately you share blood and memories with him, so you only wish for his demise the normal, sibling amount

you’ve had lots of petty fights with him. hell, it was hard not to. as his younger sister you were always viewed as the softer, smaller, less significant gojo. living in his stupidly tall shadow, it was hard not to want to knock him down as many pegs as you could.

this fight, however, definitely took the cake. a full screaming match that ended in tears, with you packing your shit, and running the hell away.

yeah, maybe it was a bit dramatic, but being looked down upon your whole life because you were the little sister of the satoru gojo was fucking exhausting. you just needed space, that’s all. you needed time and room away from the gojo estate so you could breath, to stop feeling so damn trapped in your own lineage.

so, here you are, in a less-than-shabby apartment with a roommate you barely even know the name of.

toji fu…something? fujimoto? fukushima? whatever.

you probably should know more about the person you’re sharing a living space with, but in reality you barely see the back end of the guy heading out the front door. that’s all he does; come and go. in and out, all the time. you still don’t even know what he does for work. just that it’s something that has him leaving for days at a time, coming back looking slightly worse for wear, and then leaving again.

the main thing that drew you to this cheap ass place was… well, exactly that. it was cheap. that, and you could move in right away. the other apartments required a “background check” that left you hanging without somewhere to go, but toji obviously needed someone to pay the other half of the rent quick.

the description of the ad was “low rent, looking for a quiet roommate that pays bills on time” and while it may not have been the most attractive ad to most people, beggars can’t be choosers, right?

now toji fushi-whateverthefuck was honestly a pretty good roommate when compared to horror stories you’ve heard. he was fairly tidy save the occasional towel left on the ground and the messy ashtray on the balcony ledge. he never left any dirty dishes… and actually now that you think about it, you don’t think you’ve ever seen the guy cook before. you don’t really understand how he got enough sustenance to be that, well, beefy, for lack of a better word. somehow he fucking managed.

his size and prowess had scared you at first, because you’re not naive enough to think that you could ever take him in a fight. you’ve certainly seen enough true crime to see that it would fit his MO; young girl moves in, big scary man with the intimidating scar on his face likes stabbin’, and he buries her under the floorboards.

the only neighbours you have are the old, deaf woman to your right and the junkyard of a man (who you once saw smoking out of a crack pipe in the stairway) to the left who’s away for months at a time, so no one would hear you scream. then you’d be just another missing persons poster on a telephone pole people pass by without a glance, your image slowly being worn into the wood by the elements and eventually covered by other posters.

a fitting end for a runaway, probably.

while the possibility that he’s a murderer and he just really likes to take his time planning before he strikes is still there, he’s a lot nicer than you expected from his looks. which isn’t saying much, because really the gap between serial killer and the nice, deaf lady next door who bakes you bread sometimes is so large, he could fall anywhere in between.

yeah, nice isn’t really the right word for him. polite, maybe?

honestly, it’s more like a mutual agreement between a gazelle and a leopard by a watering hole; you stay on your side, and i’ll stay on mine.

from the almost predatory look of him, the wide set of his shoulders and the roguishly handsome way his face was put together, you expected something sinister to lurk beneath the surface. heck, men half as good-looking as him usually use their gift for evil, using their pretty privilege as a get-of-jail-free card. they think that because of their looks, they can behave however the fuck they want.

(a certain name comes to mind, something rhyming with dojo...)

so when you first eyed up six-foot-something of beefy muscle and the devilish face-card toji sported, you reasoned that something had to be horrifically wrong with him. as far as you could tell, he was single. and a man his age, with his wide set shoulders and wolfish smirk that could drop a woman’s panties from a mile away, wasn’t just single without something being clinically diagnosable about him.

at first, you were worried he’d be super macho and demand everything was done his way. maybe that your shower products were taking up too much space or your pink throw blanket you kept on the couch was too girly or that your music taste sucked.

and if he wasn’t mean… you were worried he’d fly too far past friendly and be some sort of creep, eyeing you up like a piece of meat and expecting something out of you just from proximity.

but he just…didn’t. he doesn’t do anything.

he gives you polite words if your paths happen to cross each other, wether that be in the kitchen, the balcony (where he smoked, and you enjoyed a cup of tea) or the couch to watch tv where he always offered the remote to you because he claimed he “didn’t give a shit”.

and yeah, most people would probably call that the bare minimum of what’s considered polite, but you found it intriguing.

sure he was gruff, rough around the edges, and when you’d first came to view the apartment he sat on the couch and watched them announce lotto numbers telling you to “knock yourself out” instead of giving you a proper tour, but the whole thing was attractive to you in some way.

your whole life, you were treated as a gojo. the daughter to two of the wealthiest people in the country and the sister of “the honoured one” or “the strongest”, or “the world’s most blue-eyed fuckhead” or whatever the hell the idiot went by these days. but with toji, you were just some girl (that he probably thought was an idiot for living in a banged up apartment with a possible serial killer) but really, that’s fine by you.

as interesting as toji was to you, you couldn’t really get a proper read on him. maybe that’s why you were so interested. he was like a dark pond that you couldn’t see the bottom of; you had no idea what lurked beneath, but his surface was incredibly alluring.

you wanted to dive right in.

you… are not a good cook.

growing up at the gojo estate, you never had to be. as embarrassing as it is to admit, you’ve always had people better trained than you to do it for you. which was all fine and dandy, when you still lived there.

but now…

“fuck!” the exclamation is yelled into the empty house as you burn yourself on the hot pan you were trying to use. key word: trying.

there’s smoke billowing out because the oil was…burning? how does that even happen? isn’t oil there so it doesn’t burn?

you were heating up the pan to try to cook an egg, because all you’ve been eating for the past couple of weeks is instant ramen and various raw vegetables easy for snacking on. you should probably give up on your culinary dreams though, because the pan looks as charred and depressing as you feel.

all you wanted was real food.

it was fine, at first, living off of “garbage food” as your family would call it. it was kind of refreshing to eat things you hadn’t been allowed to growing up, taking back some stolen part of your childhood when you craved junk food.

but now you were sick of it.

all you could think of was the good, home cooked meals you were fed regularly at the estate. sautéed vegetables, raw cuts of fatty tuna, seasoned riced, expensive and perfectly cooked wagyu beef… the thought of it all made your stomach growl as you tossed the soiled pan into the sink to soak, and grabbed some baby carrots from the fridge instead.

you absolutely would not admit you had made the wrong decision in leaving. and truly, you didn’t even think it either.

as depressing as your life had been for the past couple of weeks; spent with all your contacts on silent (because you just know satoru would blow the fuck out of your phone) and eating meals fit for a collage frat boy living off his last dime, you’re pride was more important.

you were proving a point. a point that put your livelihood on the line, your whole way of being. if you crumbled now you would just be giving up in battle of wills between you and your brother, something you were not willing to do for any cost.

you may have lost the genetic lottery by being born second, but you would not lose this.

you’ll stay eating baby carrots for breakfast and sitting on a shitty couch, watching shitty cable television (that your mother once told you would rot your brain out of your nose) to prove your point.

in the midst of a very shittily done action scene playing out on the grainy tv, a door opens from the hallway behind you.

toji must have snuck in last night again while you were sleeping. (you find yourself once again questioning what he does for work to have such a weird ass schedule, but then you think that you probably don’t want to know.)

to your surprise, instead of heading out onto the balcony to smoke like he usually does first thing, he plops down on the couch next to you, the springs squeaking under his weight.

despite sitting on the couch with him being a regular occurrence in your shared apartment, you still tense when he settles into the seat beside you. he takes up the space so easily, manspreading his giant thighs instantly and draping one of his beefy arms across the back of the couch. you try hard not to notice how your side of the couch is tilted towards him, his weight pulling you sideways, dragging you into his orbit.

when he rolls his head to the side to stare you down, you freeze like a deer trying to camouflage into a forest background, hoping to not get caught by the apex predator stalking it. his eyes are like two headlights, digging into your primal instinct to freeze.

“mornin’.” it’s just one word, barely a greeting, but the sleep-induced gravel in his voice drags across your skin anyways, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“good morning.” you’ll play this feeling inside of you off for as long as you have to, until you stop feeling it. you pop another carrot into your mouth to stop from saying anything else.

he leans over you, staring into the bowl that harbours your poor excuse for a breakfast and twists his face up in disgust.

“you’re going to turn orange if you keep eating carrots for every meal. what are you, a damn bunny?”

you snort. “that’s just a myth, you know.”

he smirks, and just like every other time he does, it twists something in your stomach up into a knot.

“nah,” his expression turns serious for a second, as he scrutinizes your rapidly heating face. “in fact, i think it’s happening already.”

“what?!” you scramble out of the sunken-in couch, running to check yourself in the bathroom mirror. when you do, you scowl and yell out a “jerk!” as toji cackles nefariously from the living room.

you’re not orange, in the slightest. in fact, your face is bright red.

toji fushiguro was polite in most ways, but he loved to tease.

deciding you’ve had enough teasing for one day, you head back to your room instead of returning to the couch.

that night, the power in the apartment goes out.

a transformer had exploded up the street, causing a large outage across the neighbourhood. the second the loud boom! had hit and the lights flickered and then vanished all together, fear had gripped you tightly.

you’re not… scared of the dark, per say. it’s just being alone, alone with your thoughts, sitting in a dark room that scares you.

your phone was pretty much useless without wifi, so you scrambled for something, anything to do to keep your mind busy, to keep from feeling so terribly alone.

you feel… stupid. silly, even, like a child that had a nightmare seeking comfort from a grown up.

you’re standing outside of toji’s door, with your hand raised, but no courage to knock.

it was stupid. you were being stupid. it’s just the dark, you’ll be fine. the power should be on in a couple of hours. you’ll survive, right?

just as you’re about to turn and retreat back to your room, toji’s door opens and you’re suddenly face to face (face to chest?) with him.

“what is it? you’ve been standing outside my door for the past five minutes like a little creep.” the words would sound angry to anyone else, but you’ve spent enough time around him to know that’s just how he speaks.

it’s one of the things that draws you to him, how he never feels the need to sweeten his words. he doesn’t limit himself with things like politeness and niceties, he just says what he needs to say.

right now though, you would appreciate some decorum.

“i um… wanted to know… sorry, it’s stupid. i’ll leave you alone.” but as you turn to leave, he heaves a giant sigh like he’s pained.

“stop whining like a baby and say what you want.”

jesus… so no decorum, then.

“…do you want to play uno with me?”

the cards look comically small in his large hands…

you were both in the living room, using the coffee table and some candles to play the riveting, timeless game that is uno. it was one of the few things that you had brought with you from home, distant memories of playing with satoru as a kid and getting in physical fights over it flickering across your mind.

the thoughts made your chest ache, but that’s why you’re here with toji, right? to stop thinking about it so damn much.

“pick up four, and i change the colour to… blue.” toji growls at your words, a scowl painting his features periodically lit up by candle light. he picks up four cards from the deck painfully slow, making a deal out of each one and pouting like a baby.

you hadn’t expected him to be so… competitive.

honestly, you hadn’t expected him to say yes in the first place. maybe a laugh in your face proceeded by his door slamming or even just a simple look of disgust, not the grumbled “okay” that he gave you as he followed you to the living room.

it was… weird, doing something so mundane with him.

toji looked like a creature built to kill. there was something brutal and dangerous about the way he carried himself, the words he spoke and the voice he spoke them in.

it felt like using a loaded handgun as a spoon for your cereal.

you giggle at the thought, but then you’re staring down the barrel of the actual handgun that is toji fushiguro’s glare.

“you ain’t gonna be laughing for long, brat.” and then in a jaw dropping display of utter brutality, he puts down three of his gathered pickup-four cards and two pickup-twos, leaving him with nothing in his hand. how was that even possible?

“you jerk! i only had two cards left.” you whine and toss your cards into the pile on the table.

“yeah, that’s what happens when you mess with me, kid.” he puts his recently emptied hands behind his head, smirking down at you like someone who had just one at poker and took home the largest pot ever, not a meek game of uno.

truthfully, you’re uninterested in wining or losing. his company was so alluring to you, that it was entertainment in itself. like watching a leopard at the zoo, relaxed in his own element. his broad shoulders melting into a bulging bicep stretched over his head, his toned chest peeking through his shirt-

“so,” fuck. you jump like you’ve been caught ogling him, poking the glass of his enclosure when there were clearly signs not to. “i’ve been meaning to ask, what are you running away from, kid?”

what?

you gape at him like a fish trying to breath air, completely dumbfounded by his question. he couldn’t mean-

“you think i’m stupid or somethin’?” he’s leaning over the table now, the leopard tapping back at the glass that separated you. you feel hunted.

“cute little rich girl gets her panties in a twist, stomps her feet, and runs away from home, ive seen it all before. m’just surprised you’ve lasted this long, honestly.”

you feel like a bug that’s been pinned to a cork board for examination, spread out and exposed. your inner turmoil and darkest guilts have been torn out of you to lay bleeding and squirming on the coffee table.

“how the hell did you figure that out?” your words are borderline suspicious, borderline accusing.

if he was some kind of freak, you were going to make a break for the front door. though you’ll have to slip right by his large arm span to do that, so you’ll have to be quick about it-

he laughs like he’s amused by the clear discomfort on your face.

“relax. i just pay attention, is all.” he’s got an easy smirk on his face, and he doesn’t look nefarious in any way, so you relax your shoulders a bit.

“you don’t have a job, and yet all of your shit is fancy. you’re always bringing home groceries that you don’t know how to cook properly, expensive crap with the word organic pasted all over it, so you clearly have expensive taste, and yet you picked one of the shittiest apartments on the market. most definitely so you could move in right away, right?”

wow. you feel sort of bad for underestimating his observation skills. this whole time you felt like you were spectating him, but clearly it was the other way around.

he leans in again, his easy smirk and sea green eyes lit up by the candlelight, making him look almost supernaturally pretty.

“so you’re running, but from what?”

suddenly, all the tension you’ve been carrying spills out of you like water from a squeezed sponge. you let out a sigh that collapses your chest, your whole body sinking with it.

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crk-kr-to-en · 2 days ago

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I found shadow milk really annoying before I got back into crk, because all the ads I got of the game were in english and used his english voice, and I found it generic and obnoxious. He didn’t sound like a unique character at all and sounded very stereotypical

Then I actually installed the game, heard his korean voice and I kid you not, instantly fell in love. His Korean voice does so much for his character, even reading the official english dialogue it made his character so much better just hearing the tone of voice he used. I love how deep and theatrical it is

CORRECT FUCK. This is LITERALLY the Tumblr Sexyman-ification shit @burningcheese-merchant mentioned in a convo we had that famous artists fell into the silly jester propaganda which also leads to so many shadowcanilla fanarts mischaracterizing PV to conform to his tastes. PV is also LITERALLY COOKIE JESUS and yet so little people actually depict him like that. 😭 (He beat up SM's ass because he's telling him to get his shit together and he could've killed Black Sapphire and Candy Apple too in the Korean version. :( )

I even wonder if people would even have the same hype if the REAL Shadow Milk characterization from Korean, the game's REAL language origin, was actually conveyed through En Localization<-(sucks ass and ruins every single character to the point they're not the same!!!)

#asks stuff #i cant even call it stereotypical if it happens to ME EVERYDAY HAHAHA #burningcheese-merchant #scientistkisser

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candycandy00 · 3 days ago

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Once Upon a Time - A Toji x Reader Fanfic Part 3 (Final)

Retold fairytales featuring the JJK men! This is Snow White featuring Toji! You live in a snowy village and have a crush on your handsome neighbor Toji, unaware that he’s been hired by the queen to kill you.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Read Choso x Rapunzel Here!

Read Sukuna x Sleeping Beauty Here!

Read Gojo x Cinderella Here!

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Reader as Snow White. Age gap (Reader is early 20’s, Toji is mid 30’s). Rough sex. Slight size difference kink. Death of side characters.

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more and @benkeibear!

Toji rushes forward and sinks to his knees beside her body, pulling it into his arms. Fuck, this wasn’t supposed to happen! She was supposed to be safe here!

As he looks down at her face, seemingly peaceful, he’s reminded of discovering his wife’s body. She’d been battling an illness for months, and one morning he left to go hunt for their supper, only to return and find her dead.

The trauma of that morning is seeping back into his mind as he cradles the body of his new lover. He hadn’t even realized how much he cared about her until this moment.

“Damn you women who burst into my life, telling me you love me!” he yells in frustration. “All you do is fuck me up when you leave me like this!”

He slams his fist into the floor beside them, the wood splintering under the force. This is why he tried so hard to not get attached. He can’t handle losing another one. He folds himself over, placing his head on her chest.

Wait. Is that a heartbeat? Toji listens carefully, pressing one ear to the space where her heart would be. It’s faint, but it’s definitely beating!

He pulls back and examines her more closely, smelling her lips to try to determine the type of poison used. It’s familiar! He lays her gently on the floor and retrieves the apple, looking it over and sniffing it as well.

In his training to become an assassin, he had to learn about a lot of poisons. He didn’t pay too much attention, as he preferred other means of killing his targets, but a few lessons stuck with him. He remembers being taught about a poison that puts the victim in a death like state, with very shallow breathing and slow heart rate, for three hours before ultimately killing them.

He also remembers there was a natural antidote, found in a certain plant.

Toji gets to his feet and tears out of the cabin, racing into the woods to find the plant. The image of this plant was burned into his mind, because to him the blossom resembled a white dagger dripping blood. The petals were pointed, sharp looking, their tips crimson. He also remembers it was a rare plant that bloomed all year long.

The forest is covered in a blanket of snow, but Toji is fast, raking the snow away from the base of each tree, where the plant is said to grow.

Over an hour later, at the thirty-seventh tree he checked, Toji finds the plant he was looking for. It’s smaller than he expected, having only seen illustrations of it rather than the real thing, with alarmingly delicate blossoms. How does such a thing survive under the snow?

He carefully pulls the plant from the ground and rushes back to the cabin, his face red from being exposed to the bitter cold for so long.

Once back inside, he does a quick check to see if she’s somehow miraculously awakened while he was gone. She hasn’t, of course. But then when has a miracle ever happened for Toji? Best to make your own miracles if you need one.

He goes to the kitchen and turns on the stove, letting it heat up some water while he prepares the plant. Using a kitchen knife, he chops the plant, blossom and all, into tiny pieces. Then he crushes them into a rough powder before adding them to the boiling water. A few minutes and some quick stirring later, he has the antidote ready, steaming in a cup.

Being careful not to spill any, he hurries over to his lover’s unconscious body and lowers himself to the floor, then holds her upper half up in his arms. He positions her head at the best angle to avoid letting her strangle, then uses his fingers to pull her mouth open. He starts to drizzle a bit of the antidote into her mouth, but some of it is just leaking back out.

“Shit!” he yells, then an idea occurs to him. He looks at the swirling brown liquid in the cup, then shrugs and pours the entire thing into his mouth. Then he quickly presses his lips to hers, making a seal, and pushes the antidote into her mouth. He’s in such a hurry that his mind barely registers how disgusting it tastes.

He remains locked in the kiss for several minutes, making sure all of it goes down her throat before finally breaking away. Then he watches her face intently until her eyes begin to flutter open.

The first thing you see when you wake up is Toji’s face. He’s looking down at you with a worried expression. When did he get back? And why is he holding you in his lap?

“Toji?” you ask, sitting up. “What’s going on?”

He stands up and helps you to your feet, then asks, “Don’t you remember?”

You think hard. “An old lady stopped by… she said she needed to rest, and she gave me an apple.”

“That was the queen using magic to change her appearance, and the apple was poisoned.”

“Wait, what?!”

Toji urges you to sit down on the couch, then sits beside you. “Someone in town told me an old fruit seller was asking questions in town before heading for the cabin. It sounded suspicious so I ran back here to check on you.”

You look around, half expecting to see a corpse nearby. “Did you see her?”

“No,” he says, “I just found you sprawled out on the floor. Luckily I recognized the poison and remembered how to make the antidote.”

You blink, surprised. “You saved me?”

He grins. “I can’t let the person who swore to pay off my debts die!”

You lean a little closer to him. “Is that the only reason?”

He looks down at your face, then averts his eyes. “And I guess I enjoy fucking you.”

“That’s all?” you ask, so close that you’re practically in his lap again.

You see a very faint pink tint to his face as he leans slightly away. “Maybe I like having you near me.”

You edge even closer to him. “And?”

He suddenly meets your gaze, his eyes intense. “And I’d tear this whole fucking kingdom apart if someone killed you.”

You feel a smile tugging at your lips. That’s probably the closest thing to a love confession you’re going to get for now. You relax back against the couch and say, “Would you have killed the queen if I died?”

He gives a little smile back. “No, I would’ve ripped her face off then forced her to look at herself in that fancy mirror before shattering it. For someone like her, it would be a hell of a lot worse than death.”

You laugh, finding his capacity for violence for your sake endearing.

Over the next few days, Toji makes a show of pretending you’re dead. He says the queen probably has agents watching the cabin. He wraps up some pillows in a blanket, making a human-like shape, and buries it in the woods while wearing an angry expression. He even places a few flowers on the “grave”.

When he does finally make a trip into town to talk to a former guard he was friendly with, he tells you to remain hidden until he gets back.

“Do you really think he’ll help us?” you ask him before he leaves.

“Maybe. Shiu hated the queen as much as I did. He left the royal guard a few weeks before me.”

While he’s gone, you stay quiet, not wanting anyone nearby to hear noise in the supposedly empty cabin. You’ve already been keeping the curtains closed and avoiding windows.

It’s a little scary to be alone after what happened the last time, but you trust Toji. If anything happens, he’ll come to save you.

Shiu is sitting at a table in the back of the tavern, a mug already in his hand, when Toji walks in. He still looks the same as ever, Toji thinks.

He looks up when Toji approaches, a restrained smile on his face. “I heard you wanted to talk to me,” he says.

Toji sits down without being invited to do so, signaling the barmaid to bring him a drink. “How are things going for you since leaving the guard?”

Shiu shrugs. “I’m fine. I work for a noble in town, guarding their mansion.”

Toji takes a swig from the mug that was just handed to him. Might as well get to the heart of the matter. He looks at Shiu and asks, “Whatever happened to that girl you were gonna marry?”

A shadow seems to fall over Shiu’s face as he takes a long drink. He’s silent for a moment, then says, “She married someone else.”

Toji shakes his head. “That’s rough, man. All because of that bitch queen.”

Shiu doesn’t reply to that, only takes yet another drink. Toji remembers clearly what happened. The queen overheard Shiu talking to a fellow guard about being betrothed to his childhood sweetheart. The queen worked hard to maintain the deluded fantasy that all her guards were in love with her, so she couldn’t tolerate Shiu’s love for another woman.

One day she had Shiu’s fiancé brought to the castle, and forced Shiu to break off the engagement because he was “in love with the queen”. The queen made it very clear she would be willing to kill the girl if Shiu refused.

Only a week later, Shiu left the guard. Toji always wondered if he was able to explain things to his former fiancé and marry her after all, but apparently that never happened.

Now, Shiu looks utterly miserable, to the point that Toji almost regrets bringing it up.

“I never talked to her after that,” he suddenly says. “I knew the queen would have her killed if anyone saw us together. Wasn’t worth the risk.”

Toji takes another drink then sits his mug down. “What if I told you she’s a false queen?” he asks in a low voice. “What if there’s a true queen waiting to overthrow her?”

Shiu looks at him, startled. Then his eyes shift around the room to make sure no one is listening. “What are you talking about?”

Toji places his elbow on the table casually, as if he’s discussing the weather. “The queen killed her husband, but he had a child before he married her.”

“Yeah, the kid died right after he did,” Shiu said, recounting the official story.

“She’s alive,” Toji tells him, “And ready to claim her throne.”

Shiu’s eyes narrow. “How do you know that?”

“Because the queen hired me to kill her.”

“And you didn’t.”

Toji nods. “I didn’t.”

Shiu looks at him in silence for a moment, then says, “You fucked her, didn’t you?”

Toji laughs. “I did. But to be fair I had no idea who she really was. The first time at least.”

Shiu shakes his head and takes another drink. “How sure are you about this? She could be a fake or-“

“She’s the real deal,” Toji says. “She didn’t even know herself until a few days ago. I was with her when she found out.”

“So?” Shiu asks. “What do you need from me?”

“A distraction, mostly. Gather as many former guards as you can and make a scene at the castle gates. Draw as many guards as you can. I’ll sneak in through one of the old passageways and take out the queen.”

“She’ll keep the elite guard in the castle with her,” Shiu says. Both men still know exactly how things work.

Toji grins. “Elite or not, there’s only six of them. Do you really think they can stop me?”

Shiu laughs. “Not in a million years!”

“Have everything ready,” Toji says. “We’ll make our move in one week.”

How did things end up like this? How did you find yourself in a small dark carriage with Toji, on your way to the castle to kill the queen?

Toji seems calm and relaxed. Has he assassinated a royal before? He acts like this is just a pleasant ride through the kingdom. His confidence makes you feel more at ease, but you’re still battling to keep your nerves under control. You’ve never done anything remotely like this before.

But you can’t back down now. Not after what the queen has taken, and attempted to take, from you. In the back of your mind, your poor father’s bloody corpse remains frozen there, refusing to be forgotten. You can’t allow the person who ordered his death to sit on the throne and enjoy such power.

“You still okay?” Toji’s voice asks. The carriage is so dark inside that you can barely see his face. He insisted on doing this at night.

“I’m fine. Just nervous,” you reply. “Why don’t you tell me something about your past, to distract me?”

You hear Toji snort. “You don’t wanna hear depressing stuff like that. Ask me about something recent.”

After a moment of thought, you ask, “Why did you kill that boar that was terrorizing the village? I used to think it was out of kindness, but that doesn’t seem likely.”

Toji laughs. “You don’t think I’m kind?”

“Are you?”

“Fuck no! I’m a terrible person!” Toji says, then goes quiet for a little while before speaking again. You wish you could see his expression as he says, “That kid the boar killed… he used to play in front of my house all the time. Annoying little brat. But he looked like Megumi. He looked like my son. So I didn’t really mind seeing him out my window every day.”

Another brief silence, then Toji goes on. “When I saw that kid’s body all mangled up, it was like I was looking at Megumi’s corpse. Something just snapped in me, and I had to kill the boar.”

You smile even though you doubt he can see it. “That’s a surprisingly sweet reason.”

The carriage begins to slow, then comes to a stop. Toji climbs out and then helps you step down onto the hard forest ground. The air is frigid and dry. What snow is left on the ground is solid, like icy stone. It’s dark here, but some moonlight is filtering in between the trees, providing more light than was in the carriage.

Several feet away stands an old church made of crumbling brick. It’s in obvious disrepair, probably abandoned.

“So the tunnel is in there?” you ask.

Tojo is adjusting a leather satchel on his shoulder. “Yep. Leads straight to the fruit cellar inside the castle.”

He’d explained earlier that the tunnel was a secret escape route for the royal family, made generations ago when the kingdom was at war with another land. They never closed it off because there was always the chance of an attack, from rebellious commoners or even another kingdom in the future.

Toji talks to the driver of the carriage, some former guard he once worked with, and then the carriage is gone, presumably to meet up with the “distraction force” as Toji calls it. Then the two of you walk into the church.

Inside, Toji lights a torch and hands it to you before lighting another for himself. In the firelight you can see that the church interior is in decent shape. It’s very dusty, full of cobwebs, but otherwise looks like any other empty church. The pews are still arranged neatly in a row, with even a few Bibles and hymnals still tucked into the wooden holders.

You follow Toji as he walks right up to the Baptismal pool at the back, long dried up, and lifts up a stone slab you thought was the bottom. Beneath it you see a set of steps leading down into pitch darkness.

“Wouldn’t this be a bad idea when the pool was full?” you ask as Toji begins walking down the steps.

“It never was,” he tells you, turning back to offer you his hand as you follow down after him. “This was never a functioning church. All of this is fake.”

Once down the steps, you move the torch around to look at your surroundings. The tunnel is tall enough for Toji to fit with room to spare, and wide enough for at least four men to walk side by side. The floor is made of stone, not dirt. You suppose royals wouldn’t lower themselves to walking on the bare earth even in an emergency.

The walls are also stone, but have a rustic, unfinished quality to them. You can only see a little ways ahead, as the tunnel seems to absorb the firelight. When you speak to Toji, your voice echoes.

“I hope you know the way,” you say as you turn a corner, leaving the main path. Apparently there are several “dummy paths” to confuse potential pursuers.

“All guards have to memorize the route through the tunnels,” he says, “in case we have to escort the queen out.”

You walk the rest of the way in relative silence, only your footsteps and Toji’s filling the tunnel with faint sound. As you get closer to the end, the two of you begin walking slower, more quietly, to avoid alerting any guards that might be patrolling near the exit.

Finally, Toji stops in what looks like the middle of the tunnel and points upwards. There’s a square outline of wood, with a rope ladder tied up to it. Toji releases the ladder then climbs it enough to ease the door open. You see him hold the torch up and move it around to check the area, then he motions for you to climb up as he pushes the door fully open.

Inside the fruit cellar, there’s a couple of wall mounted candles giving off meager light, but it’s enough to see where you’re going. Toji snuffs out the torches and tosses them behind a shelf, then cracks open the door and peeks out. Apparently seeing nothing of note, he takes your hand and silently leads you out into the hall.

There’s more light here, with torches fixed in elegant mounts at evenly spaced intervals along both walls. The floor is carpeted, in deep red, and the ceiling is absurdly high.

You look around in wonder, trying to force your brain to remember any of this. You were born here, spent the first year and a half of your life here, but nothing looks the least bit familiar. You were simply too young at the time.

Toji pulls you gently along, faster than your usual pace. “Shiu must be doing his job,” Toji says. “The halls aren’t usually so empty.”

He stops suddenly and ducks back against the wall, then leans slightly around a corner. “There they are. The elite guard, right outside her bedroom like I thought.”

You want to peek around and see for yourself, but you keep your back pressed against the wall.

Toji turns to you. “Stay here until I take care of them.”

You nod, then he rushes around the corner. You hear the guards yelling, indistinguishable words and then grunts and yells of pain. You hear metal clanging against metal, and you realize Toji didn’t bring a sword.

No longer able to bear not knowing what’s happening, you creep over to the corner and very carefully lean around to look.

In front of an ornate door, two guards are already lying on the floor, not moving, pools of blood beneath their bodies. Toji is holding a sword just like theirs, obviously taken from one of their bodies. He swings it with terrifying precision, slicing one guard across the neck and then stabbing into another’s gut. Blood is spraying all over the hall, coating Toji’s arms and shirt.

Of the two guards left, one tries to grab Toji from behind, but Toji’s head slams back into the man’s face with a sickening crunch. Then Toji parries the last guard’s sword and grabs the man’s throat with his free hand. The guard drops his sword and used both hands to try to pry Toji’s fingers from his neck, but that’s when Toji rams his own sword through the man’s chest.

Toji turns to face you as you step around the corner. “Are you okay?” you ask him, worried he might have gotten wounded in the scuffle.

“Not a scratch,” he says, putting his hand on the golden knob of the door. “Ready to see the queen?”

You take a deep breath and will your heart to stop beating so fast. In the pocket of your dress is a small dagger Toji gave you. Your hand grips the handle as you say, “I’m ready.”

Toji opens the door to a surprisingly bright room. A huge chandelier overhead illuminates the lavish bedroom, but you don’t have time to even notice the gilded furnishings. Because in the center of the room sits a strikingly beautiful woman in a long red velvet dress.

She’s glaring at you, but her eyes quickly shift to Toji. “I knew you’d come,” she says, her voice pretty but tired. “You’ve always hated me. I shouldn’t have even bothered with posting guards.”

You step forward, clutching the dagger in your fist. She looks at it, then at your face. She doesn’t seem frightened at all, just… tired. Is this really the same person who visited you and gave you the apple? She seems to have so many sides to her.

“Ah yes, the princess finally comes home,” she says.

Even in her defeated state, she’s gorgeous. Did this woman really worry that you’re more beautiful than her? Just as you’re about to question if that’s really why she began to target you after all these years, she waves her hand over her face.

It’s like she pulled off a mask. She must have been using magic to enhance her appearance, because now she looks like an ordinary woman. Still pretty, but the regular sort of pretty you see in any village in the kingdom.

She sighs and relaxes back in her chair. “I never should have let you live,” she says.

“Why did you?” you ask her. The question has been wearing on your mind.

She looks away, her gaze settling on something distant. “You don’t have to believe me, but I truly did love your father. Your real father. I didn’t kill him. And I couldn’t kill you, because you were the last little piece of him left in the world. I regret that foolish sentimentality now.”

You look down at her, trying to decide whether or not you pity her. After some thought, you decide you don’t. “I would have lived my life out in peace, never knowing the truth, if you hadn’t tried to kill me,” you tell her. “You started all of this.”

Her eyes fix upon yours again. She doesn’t try to escape beg for her life. She doesn’t even try to shield her neck with her hand as you hold the dagger up. A strange smile spreads over her face. “Ah, you have your father’s eyes.”

“You killed the only father I ever knew,” you say, before plunging the dagger into her throat.

As you release your hold on the dagger’s hilt, you realize your hands are trembling. You clasp them together to still them as Toji comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“You did good,” he says.

You nod numbly. Did you do good? Was killing her the right thing to do? Only time will tell.

A few guards burst into the room. They spot the queen’s bloody body slumped in her chair and point their swords at you and Toji.

Before a battle can break out, Toji points to the necklace around your neck. “This is the true queen,” he tells them. He also holds out a familiar envelope. “This is a letter written by the former Royal Advisor explaining everything. The queen you served killed the king and stole the throne.”

One of the guards hesitantly takes the letter, his eyes repeatedly shifting to the pendant on your chest. “We will have to report this to the court and let them decide what to do,” he says.

You give him a dignified nod, trying to look like a queen. You’re still not sure you even want to rule, but you have Toji by your side. With him, you feel like you can figure things out.

Four months have passed since you killed the queen. You’re standing in the throne room, listening to court advisors and teachers as they continue their lessons.

One of them snaps a wooden ruler against a nearby desk to get your attention. “Your Majesty! I asked you which of our allies trades primarily in grain! This is a test!”

You sigh as you step away from the window. “Asselia, our neighbor to the north,” you answer. They’ve been quizzing you nonstop for the past week in preparation for your first meeting with allied leaders.

“Very good,” one of them says. He’s a kindly old man who apparently served under your parents when they ruled.

The harsher man beside him, holding the ruler, doesn’t seem impressed. “You still get at least one in ten answers wrong! You’ll be an embarrassment to the-“

He stops abruptly when the main doors open and Toji walks in.

“Hey now,” Toji says, draping an arm around the man who is now sweating. “You’re not being rude to our adorable new queen, are you?”

The man’s face goes pale. “N-no, sir! We’re just going over her lessons. She’s still new to politics and-“

“And these lessons have already went over schedule by an hour,” Toji tells him. “She’s taking a break now.”

The man looks like he’d love to say something, but he holds his tongue, instead gathering up some papers and books from his desk and leaving the room in a hurry. Several more men leave as well, casting fearful looks Toji’s way.

All that remains is your top advisor, the one who praised you earlier. He’s your favorite. With a light chuckle he watches his colleagues flee the room, then turns to you. “Don’t worry, Your Majesty, you’re making excellent progress. Someone who grew up in a small village can’t be expected to know everything about this kingdom so quickly.”

You smile warmly at him. “Thank you. I’m glad you came back to the castle.”

He gives you a wink. “I’m glad you came back too.”

“You’ve never doubted me, have you?” you ask him. Many in the court seem to think you’re a fake heir who somehow stole your pendant. But they hated the previous queen so much that even they didn’t oppose your rule.

He laughs as he heads toward the door. “How could I? You look so much like your parents it’s uncanny! And I know my friend’s handwriting. The letter is not fake.”

You wave to him as he leaves the room, closing the door behind him. Toji walks over and locks it.

“How are the new guards doing?”

Toji has been overseeing the training of the guards you had to replace after the night you killed the queen. His friend Shiu is now Captain of the Guard and is helping with the training.

“They’re soft and weak but they’ll get better,” Toji says, walking over to you. “Not like you even need them with me around.”

He’s probably right. You can’t even fathom someone being able to get past Toji.

“So did the gambling dens accept the payments?” you ask, leaning back against him as his arms encircle you.

“Happily,” he replies, leaning down and nuzzling your neck.

“I thought that’s all you wanted from me,” you say in a teasing tone.

His hands begin untying the intricate front laces of your bodice. “Oh I can think of a lot of things I still want from you.”

“Then take them,” you say, sighing as a strong hand slips beneath your bodice and firmly squeezes your breast.

Toji pauses and looks across the room. “That desk… it belongs to that old asshole, right?”

You glance over at it, frowning at the memory of the ruler cracking against it. You think you’ll hear that sound in your sleep for years to come. “He brought it with him, yes.”

“Wanna fuck on it? So every time you look at it you’ll just be thinking of my cock drilling into your pussy?”

You turn in Toji’s arms, facing him, then stand on your tip toes to kiss his lips. “You always have the best ideas!”

You’re both half naked by the time you make your way over to the desk, only a thin slip and some panties remaining on your body. Toji pulls them off you before discarding his pants, then bends you over the desk.

The wood feels cool against your bare, flushed skin. By contrast, Toji’s hand feels hot as it slides down your ass and then slips between your thighs from behind. You shudder as his fingers probe your flesh, spreading your wetness around and making lewd sounds.

“Already so wet,” he says, then leans over you and says into your ear, “Such a naughty little queen.”

You gasp as his fingers press in deeper, his thumb rubbing your clit. “T-Toji!” you whine, your hands gripping the edge of the desk.

His erection is brushing against your ass, taunting you with its firmness and heat. You wiggle a bit as you look back at him. “Your queen orders you to fuck her stupid!”

Toji grins. “As you wish, Your Majesty!”

His hand leaves your throbbing cunt, and seconds later you feel his huge cock slide into you. Your body jerks forward with the motion, the desk scooting a few inches across the floor.

Your feet leave the floor, your quivering legs dangling as Toji thrusts in harder, his hands on your hips. You feel like a toy in his grasp, but that only turns you on more. You cry out each time his cock hits the deepest possible place in you, wishing he could go even deeper.

One of his hands slides down and grips your left leg, then pulls it up, spreading you open. A sound escapes you that doesn’t even sound like yourself. Something between a moan and a sob. In this position, his tip is ramming your cervix with each thrust.

Your whole body is shaking as you cum, crying and clenching him, hugging the desk with all your strength.

Toji’s cock twitches inside you, and he pulls out quickly, his cum splattering on your body and the desk beneath it.

Is he afraid to get you pregnant? That’s probably something the two of you should discuss soon.

Once you’ve both cleaned up and are sitting together in the throne room, you decide to share an idea you had with Toji.

“Why don’t you invite Megumi to live in the castle with us?”

He seems surprised by the suggestion. “Are you sure about that? You heard the queen. Kids are the last pieces left of parents who died. He’s always gonna remind me of my wife.”

“I don’t mind,” you tell him honestly. “I don’t think we should forget people we lost. But that doesn’t mean we can’t continue our lives without them.”

He puts an arm around you, pulling you in for a quick kiss. “I never thought I’d fall for such a sweet little thing,” he says.

You smile up at him. “Oh, so you admit you fell for me?”

He gives you an almost pouty look. “You’re sneaky, huh? Gonna have to punish you for that.”

“Oh, something to look forward to during the next round of lessons!” you say with a laugh.

Toji laughs too, and you realize you made the right choices since they led you here, to this moment of pure bliss.

And you lived happily ever after.

#toji x reader #toji fushiguro #toji smut #fushiguro toji x reader #x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut

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leggerefiore · 3 days ago

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Bathing With Your PokeMan HCs

cw: fluff, bathing, nudity mentions but nothing explicit

characters: Lear, Cyrus, Larry, N, Volo

👑Lear💎

🪙 There was an insistence by the prince to spend many moments together – He would admit quietly that your presence was a comforting thing to him. So, most of his time away from his duties was spent with you (often; however, you would find yourself with him even during his duties). This included, naturally, even times that would have previously been spent alone. Baths… You would watch as he would call you into his private bathroom with you. A large tub basin was in the middle of the room. Water flowed a rain system on the ceiling down into the basin. The sound of water collecting was far too nice.

🪙 Foamy bubbles swelled around the tub as a calming herbal scent ruminated across the room. Lear sat on the side of the tub, watching as water accumulated. A maid had no doubt started the tub and added the bubbles and additives in. He sat bare, clothing left folded carefully on the counter to be collected and cleaned. Pyjamas – Far much more luxurious than you would even allow for yourself were also on the counter. He cut the water off once it filled and moved to sit within the water. A sigh left him. His eyes closed. You found yourself eagerly joining him. The warm water engulfed you instantly, setting you at ease.

🪙 He had you sit beside him. For a moment, you both silently enjoyed the ambience of the room. It was a monochromatic room like most of the rest of the villa. A few potted plants of tropical origin sat across the area. There was a detached shower with a large area, but this was more than enough for you as it stood. The soothing effect of the additives made you rest your head on his shoulder. He huffed and brought his arm around your shoulders, holding you to him. Eventually, you each would aid the other in bathing. Scrubbing his back, it was sweet to watch the prince's stiff shoulders dropped. His bare hands gently found your scalp and lathered in your shampoo with expertise. Bathing had become this lately… It was difficult to find any reason to complain. You both exited at the same time to finish preparing for bed.

🌌Cyrus🛰

☄️ There was a certain mutual understanding that Cyrus loved you but also needed his space. His adoration could be felt in most situations. You were gifted anything you could want and spent your days in allowed leisure. It was pleasant. Though, you found yourself desiring more of his time. He was so busy. Galactic took all his attention, and you desperately wanted some of it. So, you found some. Turning on the bath, you watched as the automated tub began to fill. Some oil was poured in to help with relaxation and tension as you called out to Cyrus that the bath was going to be ready soon. As he got up to head into the bathroom, you followed after him.

☄️ His gaze was nothing but curious. A simple request left you. Showering together. He blinked, clearly not overly sure as to whether to agree. But… He ultimately did nod. The shower head came on as he sat down on the stool. Your eyes trailed over his bare body… While you worried for his health sometimes, seeing him like this reassured you that he still took care of himself. You came over to help him scrub his back, making a sigh leave him. In turn, he helped was your own, carefully bringing the wash cloth up and down your back. It almost felt like a massage. With yourselves cleaned, you both finally got into the bath, which had been fully filled.

☄️ Cyrus closed his eyes as he sunk to his nose in the bathwater. You giggled and relaxed in the large tub. The water was the perfect amount of hot – You really felt like you could relax. The steam rose while the oil added a lovely aroma. There was a silence between you both but not an uncomfortable one. Being within each other's presence was so lovely to you. A likely inordinate amount of time passed with you two just soaking before he rose up. Stepping out, you imitated him. Catching him from behind, you hugged him. He tensed for a moment before sighing. Well, you certainly felt refreshed and closer to your boyfriend.

💼Larry🏢

🍙 Your beloved boyfriend had been busy. Even more so than he usually was. It had been frustrating, but he was clearly not going to protest the overtime. Geeta may truly be heartless. Or trying to get him to quit. Both? Either way, you felt desperate to help him relax and spend time with him. So, you filled up the tub in the apartment's bathroom and forced him to stay in for the evening. Getting him into the bathroom, you got him to sit in the tub. He stared at you with little reaction. You knew he would likely let himself soak, but you really felt desperate to spend any amount of time with him. Your clothes were off as you managed your way into the admittedly small tub. He cocked a brow up at you. The explanation was simply that you wanted to help relax.

🍙 You found yourself scrubbing those greying, dark locks of his as he let out a hum. The shower hose came out as the suds were rinsed out. Helping him was his back. You were caught off-guard when he asked you to turn around. A bit clumsily, you felt him scrub your back with your wash cloth. It was easy to relax as he finished up. Leaning back in the water against him, you felt your sigh. Age had made him a little soft as the water floated around you both with slight bubbles from the soap. It was a pleasant warmth. His arms locked around your waist.

🍙 Though, all things must come to an end. The drain was pulled up, and the water slowly disappeared into the pipes. A towel was wrapped around you while he dried himself off and headed towards the bedroom to change into some pyjamas. You hummed at the sight of the man in just a towel. He seemed more at ease than moat evenings. Maybe he would even stay awake a little longer so you could cuddle with him more. You followed him out with a plan.

🌿N👑

🟢 The green-haired man's travels brought you to many far corners of the world. While you two always returned to Unova, it was not uncommon to spend awhile in whatever region his dragon brought you both two. Today, it was Kanto. The only hotel with a reasonable rate certainly was not one necessarily intended for resting as its primary purpose – but it was nice enough for you to ignore that. N certainly had not been aware of its true purpose, at least. You found yourself in the bathroom, watching as the tub filled up. A bath fizz had been added, giving the water a mint-ish tinge in hue. Steam rose as you moved to get N from the massage chair he was messing with to join you in the bathroom.

🟢 He was utterly fascinated by the water colour. Immediately, he was ready to get in, but you informed him that you should both wash up first. The shower hose came out quickly. N was always quite quick in the bathroom, which concerned you just a bit. So, you helped him shampoo his hair, hands thoroughly going through the long strands. Despite everything, it was so fluffy to the touch. Rinsing out the suds, you applied some conditioner. As you went to wash your own hair, N offered to help you. Sitting down in the stool, you felt his hands tenderly scrub against your scalp. The suds formed quickly with a pleasant scent. He soon imitated as you had and rinsed the suds out. Enough time had passed for you to rinse out the conditioner. Soon, you both entered the tub to soak in the water.

🟢 You watched as N closed his eyes and sunk up to his chin in the water. His hair was tied up by hair, sitting in a bun. A sigh left you. This was quite a nice change of pace. Your hand found his in the water and held it. Times passed with little acknowledgement from you both. Then, suddenly, he brought his hand to the side of the tub and accidentally hit the jacuzzi button. The bubbles shocked him out of the water. You remained in as he watched bubbling water curiosity. It seemed that he had never seen a jacuzzi tub before. A simple explanation made him nod as he joined you again. Soon, however, you both tired of the tub and got out to ready yourselves for bed. Bathing with N had been quite a pleasant experience.

💫Volo📜

⭐️ The blond was far too startling. He had brought you out to the Icelands. The cold winds lapped at your skin as you stayed close to him. He led you expertly, clearly showing no hesitation in his steps. Soon, you found yourselves in an enclave with steaming water in the centre of a rock formation. You watched as he stripped away his layers to leave himself bare. His grey eyes pierced through you. A silent question of why you were not imitating him. So, you did. The cold air felt even worse. He entered the water with little hesitation. You joined him quickly, desperate for any kind of warmth. The water was a perfect counter to the chill of Icelands.

⭐️ Volo relaxed in the water, closing his eyes. You shifted near him, watching a few wild pokemon soak within the water. This spring was not unknown to you, but you had used the one within the Pearl clan settlement. An arm came across your shoulders to pull you into him. His muscular body instantly caught your attention. Scars decorated his skin. His eyes were distant as they glanced up at the starry sky twinkling above you both. It was relaxing, admittedly. The two of you alone in a near romantic situation. You found yourself at ease as something of a light conversation transpired between you both.

⭐️ Eventually, it had to come to an end. You both stood and dried yourselves off as quickly as one could. The cold ate at you both each moment wasted. Clothing came back on just as quickly. Your hand grasped his own as he led you along again. This time – You more at ease. Despite everything, he clearly did love you. The opportunity to attack at your most vulnerable had been near him, yet he made no such actions. His hand tightened around your own as you lost yourself in thought.

#pokemon x reader #lear x reader #cyrus x reader #larry x reader #n x reader #volo x reader #pokemon/reader #pokemon lear x reader #pokemon cyrus x reader #pokemon larry x reader #pokemon n x reader #pokemon volo x reader #lear/reader #cyrus/reader #larry/reader #n/reader #volo/reader

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bookuce · 19 hours ago

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CHANGE MY MIND

SUMMARY: Josh and Alina are great friends most days. Other days, they want to tear each other apart. Some days, they’re in love with each other, but neither of them will admit it.

*DISCLAIMER: This is a multi-part series. I do not own any of the characters in the writing except for the OC. The book uses actual names of wrestlers. Josh is Jey, Jon is Jimmy, Trinity is Naomi, and Alina is Alina. The book is not realistic and does not take place during real events, but some actual events (matches, storylines) could pop up in the story eventually. I DO NOT GIVE ANYONE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REPOST MY WRITINGS ANYWHERE. THAAAAAANKS. *

PAIRING: Jey Uso x Black OC

TROPE: Friends to Lovers

WARNINGS: Language

WORD COUNT: 4.2K

PART THIRTEEN

PART FOURTEEN

After twelve hours of touring house after house, Alina was thrilled to be back in the comforts of her home. When Josh and Alina stepped off that red-eye flight to Atlanta, they were preoccupied with finding Josh’s next home. They saw five houses today, the only ones Alina seemed interested in the most. It shouldn’t have taken so long to do, but with Atlanta traffic, what should have been a four-hour outing turned into more.

They’d enter the quiet house, dragging their feet across the hardwood floor. They’d drop their suitcases at the front door, leaving them to be tomorrow’s problem. Alina plops onto the couch, kicking her shoes off in the process. A small groan would leave her lips as she relaxed into the cushions beneath her. She wouldn’t make it up the stairs–at least not willingly. Through half-open eyes, Josh watched Alina sprawl out on the couch, shifting his weight onto each foot as he removed his shoes.

“You don’t want to get in bed?” He asks, moving towards the couch. Alina opens her eyes at the question, turning her head to watch her boyfriend.

“I’m not going to make it.” She confesses, getting a half-grin from him.

“Move over, then.” He says, laying his entire weight on top of her. A small, muffled squeal would come from the woman at the action as she turned her head to the left to get his curls out of her mouth. Her melodic laugh echoes through the room, her left hand covering her mouth immediately. Josh would wedge his thick leg between her own, spreading hers so that he could get comfortable. He adjusts his body more, letting his right arm lay at her side. Once he settled, she’d turn her head to look at him, a grin on her lips. His eyes are shut, dancing behind fluttering eyelids.

“If you don’t move off me,” she says.

“Mm-mm,” He hums, shaking his head at her. “This the best spot in the house.” His voice was low and raspy, vibrating her small frame as he spoke. His body is a comforting warmth on her, acting almost like a weighted blanket. She giggles at his answer. “Forreal.” He added before plunging the pair back into silence. Alina took this moment to study her man’s features, much like she usually did when he was sleeping near her. She’d lift her free hand, placing her thumb on his right brow. She brushed the fine hairs of his brow before fully laying her hand on his cheek. She moves her head to press two kisses to his lips. “Whatchu doing?” He asks.

“Nothing,” she answers, letting her thumb caress his cheekbone. Her eyes skim his face before her hand continues on its travels. Her index finger lightly drags down the bridge of his nose, causing his face to twitch at the sensation. “What did you think of the houses we looked at today?” She asks.

He hums at her question, informing her he is still with her in the land of the conscious. “They were nice.” He answers, his hand latching onto her hip. Slowly, his thumb began caressing the skin beneath the t-shirt she had on. She’d shrink away from his touch, a single breathy laugh escaping. He wasn’t trying to tickle the woman, but his touch was doing that. “The one at…” He takes a moment to think about the house. “Ridgecrest was nice.” He answers finally.

“Oh, that one was nice.” She chimes in.

“Which one did you like?” He asks. Alina’s hand moves to his beard, her fingers opening and closing. He had trimmed it low recently, wanting to not have so much on his face. She was still on the fence about how low it was. She enjoys the fullness of his beard and the greys that shine through. It complemented him well.

“For you?” She asks.

“For us.” He corrects. “Quit playing with me.” He mutters, making her giggle at his words.

“The one at Ridgecrest was very pretty.” She answers, agreeing with his choice. “The one at Madison was too–They all were, really.” After all, she was the one that chose the houses. Josh’s thumb would pause on her warm skin at the answer.

“So you like the Madison one?” He asked.

“I liked all of them.” She replies, trying to avoid choosing a house for him.

“But can you see yourself in any of ‘em?” He asks, opening his eyes finally. Alina watches him for a moment before shifting her eyes to the right. She purses her lips at the question. She’d emit a small hum before shrugging slightly.

“Can you?” She asks. “With me aside.” She adds, knowing he’ll say something that includes her in the answer. She lifts her hand, her index finger trailing his hairline. The tiny curls would wrap around her finger as it passed by.

“Mm-mm,” He shakes his head, making her pause.

“No?”

“Nope.” He answers. Alina quirks an eyebrow at him. “Put that eyebrow down.” He says, removing his hand from her side and placing it directly on her face. Her hand leaves his face, wrapping around his wrist.

“Boy–!” She exclaims, pulling his hand from her face. Josh lets out a chuckle, full sets of teeth on display. “You got one more time!” She repeats.

“You ain’t going to do shit.” He tells her, tilting his head up at her. A smile spreads across Alina’s face at the sight of him, forcing her to look away. That’s what I thought.” He mutters, closing his eyes again. As soon as he settled on her again, the doorbell rang, causing Josh to sigh softly. Alina laughs at his sigh, tapping the back of his shoulder for him to get up. For another second, he doesn’t move, remaining in his spot.

The doorbell will ring again, urging the couple to answer it. “Go get the door.” She says, making the man get off of her. Josh lets out a loud, heavy sigh, making Alina laugh at his dramatics. He rises off the couch, slowly making his way to the door. “You’ll be okay.” She assures him.

“Yeah, we’ll see.” His hand wraps around the deadbolt, twisting it to unlock it before unlocking the doorknob. He pulls the door open, his eyes landing on the people on the other side. Josh’s eyes shift from the man down to the woman, his lip slightly curling at the sight of them. “Lina.” He calls, not taking his eyes off the people before him.

With furrowed brows, Alina rises from the couch, quickly making her way over to the door. “Who is it?” She asks. Josh would step back, letting the door open wider for her to see. Her eyes would spot Michael first, stopping her briefly in her tracks. Her steps slowed as she moved by her boyfriend, and her eyes finally landed on Tasha. Words would catch in her throat at the sight of her friend whom she hadn’t spoken to or seen in over a month.

Tasha’s lips part slightly at Alina, a small breath leaving her lips at the sight of her friend. Alina glances away from her, her eyes shifting to the floor. “Can we come in?” She asks finally, gaining Alina’s attention again.

“Yeah,” she answers. “Yeah.” Alina steps back from the door, allowing the couple the space to enter the house. She turns to face Josh, who’s watching her face intently. He takes a few steps back, opening the door wider. The couple enters the house, walking over to the couch Alina and Josh previously laid upon. “Sorry for the mess,” Alina apologizes suddenly, glancing around the room embarrassingly. “We just got home a few moments ago.” She explains.

Tasha’s timing was impeccable…and somewhat questionable. Did someone tell her they were home? Why wasn’t she at least given a heads-up if they did? An even better question would be why the woman sitting in her living room was doing a pop-up. Josh closes the door behind everyone, sealing them off in the privacy of their home once more. He shortly joins Alina, who stands in the middle of the room. Her arms are folded across her chest, a sure sign that she is uncomfortable. He places his hand on her back, causing her absentmindedly to lean into his thick frame.

“It’s okay,” Tasha answers, offering Alina a slight grin. Michael remained standing, his hands tucked into his pant pockets. He takes a few steps forward, his eyes locking with Josh’s.

“You want to give the girls some privacy, brother?” He asks.

“Nah,” Josh interjects, shaking his head. “I’m part of the reason why she was mad at her, to begin with,” he says. Michael would grow silent at the response, taking a step back. He sits by his wife, taking her hand into his own to comfort her.“You want to sit down?” He whispers to Lina, letting his fingers travel up and down her spine. Without a word, she’ll move over to the second couch, sitting at the edge of the second cushion. Josh moves to sit behind her, tapping her to sit back against him. Instinctively, she scoots back, her back hitting his side. She pulls her legs up onto the couch, curling them beneath her body.

“So, how’ve you been?” Alina asks, offering her guests a friendly smile.

“Good,” She answers. “We’ve been good. You?”

“Same,” Alina replies with a nod. The room would become quiet as the two old friends watched each other, wondering who would speak up first. Alina half-expected Tasha to speak up, considering she showed up unannounced on her doorstep, but it didn’t look like that would happen. Their significant others glanced at each other before gazing at their women. Neither man wanted to force the conversation, but they’d be here all night at this rate. That won’t work for Josh—he was trying to go to bed soon. Two weeks on the road, living out of a suitcase and a hotel room, and twelve hours outside today had Josh hoping this meeting was short.

Though he trusted Alina could handle herself, he didn’t want her to have to do something like this alone. She didn’t like what was happening, and they’ll talk about it later. “Tash–.” Alina starts.

“Lina–.” Tasha begins with a shake of her head. “Why didn’t you tell them about each other?” She asks.

It would take Alina several seconds to answer the question. Josh’s eyes were fixated on the back of her head as he patiently waited for her reason. They never dove into what happened at the wedding. They just wanted to move past it, which they did. He knew this conversation would happen whenever Tasha was ready, but he couldn’t imagine how it would go down. “I didn’t think it was necessary.” She answers quietly. “Theo and I haven’t been together in ten years–We don’t talk, you know this.”

“But if you know how Theo–.”

“No,” Alina cuts her off, lifting her hand to silence her. “He has never acted like that before.” Theo’s jealous behavior that day made him unrecognizable to her. “I don’t know who that was.” She finishes.

Tasha would avert her eyes to the floor, sucking in a slow breath as she did so. “I feel like a conversation should have been had whether you talk to him or not.” She says.

“After ten years, Tasha? I don’t owe him anything.”

“That’s your ex.”

“And that’s your friend,” Alina says, her voice raising slightly. She points at Michael. “That’s your boy; you should have told him what was up long before your wedding day. Josh has been here, whether we were together or not, he has been here.” She says, placing her hand on Josh’s knee. The room falls into silence, the tension growing by the second. Alina’seyes flickered between the pair before settling on Tasha’s again. “Have you talked to him?” She asks, now curious. “Because it sounds like you are trying to pin this all on me, and if that’s what’s happening…” Her words catch in her throat behind a rapidly forming lump. Surely, that wasn’t what was happening. Tasha wouldn’t do that to her best friend, right? Right?

“We just feel–.”

“Oh, so you haven’t.” Alina laughs in disbelief. “Okay.”

“Lina,” Michael calls her attention to him. “We just feel like this could have all been avoided–.”

“If I would have said something. Right, right.” She nods. “So, it’s my fault, is what you’re trying to say. You have talked to Theo, or maybe you have, and this is your way of letting me know you’re siding with him instead of the person you’ve known since you were little.”

“Now, that’s not fair, Alina.”

“And this is!?” She exclaims. “Why are we acting like it’s new information that Theo and I don’t talk? You both knew this. You’ve known this! When have I ever willingly talked to that man after he cheated on me, hm?” She asks, leaning forward. “The fuck I look like being in that man’s face after he got a bitch pregnant, Tasha?”

“Lina,” Josh says, his fingers grazing the back of her arm. She pulls her arm away from him, ignoring his attempts to calm her down.

“I’m only cordial with that man because he is your friend. He is nothing to me. I don’t talk to him unless I have to, and last time I checked, who I’m fucking is none of his concern. He got mad because I told him I didn’t want him, so he picked a fight.” She says. Alina’s ears gradually warmed at the conversation happening. She was baffled at what she was hearing. One month of silence and ignoring her, and this is what they come to her with?

“Got that ass whooped too,” Josh mutters.

“That’s whose face you need to be in, not mine.” She adds. Tasha scoffs at Alina’s words, leaning back slightly. She shakes her head at the woman, her brows furrowing in disbelief.

“Of course, you don’t think you did anything wrong.” She says. “Very typical of you, Alina.”

“Because I didn’t!” Alina exclaims, once again defending herself.

“Girl, stop!” She says, standing to her feet. “All the shit that happened was because of you!” She says, pointing her index finger at her friend. “Who was they fighting over? You. Why were they fighting to begin with? Because of you, and why was that? Because you thought it wasn’t necessary to let your ex-fiancé and boyfriend know the other exists and put them in a fucking room together. How did you think that was going to pan out, hm?”

“Tasha, you going to get your hand out my face,” Alina warns, gently moving Tasha’s hand as she stands up. This prompts Michael to stand, his arm snaking around Tasha’s waist to hold her back. On the other hand, Josh remained seated, his legs crossed at the ankles. The moment Alina rose from her seat, his hand was on the back of her hoodie, ready to yank her back down if things went left.

“Can y’all calm down?” Michael asks, pulling Tasha back a few steps. He then glances down to Josh who is calmly sitting on the couch, his brows furrowed at him. “Ay, man, you don’t want to help?”

“Nope,” Josh replies simply. He was doing a great job staying out of this. It’s mostly because Josh was tired and ready for bed, but here he was at almost… He reaches into his pocket to grab his phone, his eyes reading the time. Eight o’clock. They got him spectating a shouting match at eight o’clock at night. His top lip curls in disgust at the time as he tosses the phone onto the cushion next to him. He ought to let Alina go on Tasha and wrap this up. The sooner, the better, amirite?

They know they could have done this shit tomorrow, Josh thought, watching the scene unfolding in front of him with an exhausted look of annoyance. They done came off in his house, messing up the vibes. Now, he has to deal with Alina being upset the rest of the week. He closes his eyes for a moment, sighing deeply. They’re lucky he’s too tired to be pissed off. Irked? A little bit. Ready to kick them out? Most definitely.

“I don’t know why I even bothered coming over here.” She mutters.

“Hell, I’m trying to figure out how the fuck you knew I was home!” Alina says. “You ain’t spoke to me in over a month, and then you show up on my doorstep unannounced, trying to point fingers at me instead of telling your husband to get his stupid ass friend in check,” Alina says, pointing at Mike. “That’s your brother, ain’t he? Y’all go to the Country Club every Sunday and puff your cigars, and not once did it cross your mind when he brought me up to say that I was in a relationship?” She asks. “Because now, I know he talks about me, and y’all entertain it. Which means y’all don’t respect me, Josh, or our relationship.” Theo should have never felt comfortable enough to approach her at that wedding. He should have never been confident enough to toy with Josh, pushing him to fight. None of this would have happened if he would have stayed in his lane.

“Man, I’m deading this.” She laughs softly to herself. With a shake of her head, Alina turned over her shoulder, pulling Josh’s hand from the hoodie she wore. Lastly, she glares at the couple before marching around them towards the door. She opens it, gesturing to the outside. “Get the fuck out of my house.”

Those seven words tasted bitter on Alina’s tongue, making her stomach churn as they left her lips. But they needed to be said. She had reached her limit with the couple, done allowing herself to be crucified for the wrongdoings of an ex she hadn’t been associated with in over a decade. She could understand Mike standing by his boy, but Tasha standing with Theo, as well, was something she thought she would never see a day in her life. After all the late-night calls of her sobbing over this man and the depressive spiral he sent her in, forcing her to hardly eat or leave her house, her best friend should have easily been on her side, but today, that was not the case.

To Alina, that was the greatest betrayal a friend could cause her and was grounds for a friendship breakup. She wasn’t interested in hearing anything else that could come from the couple’s mouths. What was said was said, and she was ready to have them out of her house. Tasha and Mike pivot to face her but don’t move from their spots. There was a mix of shock and confusion on their faces–dark brows knitted in unison at the sight of the exasperated woman across the room. She was really kicking them out.

Mike peers down at his wife, whose wide gaze hasn’t left her friend. Tasha's eyes–like Alina’s, swelled with tears they wouldn’t allow to drop. Her lips trembled as she fought back words she wanted to say but couldn’t because the damage was already done. This was the beginning of the end of a friendship. “C’mon, y’all don’t want to do this,” Mike says, looking at Alina. “Y’all have been friends for twenty years, attached at the hip.” He reminds them. “I understand emotions are high right now. We can revisit this later, but don’t do this.” He pleads.

Behind the couple, Josh smacks his lips, giving them a glance and a shake of his head. “Too late for all that.” He mumbles. Mike turns over his shoulder to look at Josh, who pauses at the sudden spin to face him.

“You can be quiet if you not finna help. You’re only making things worse.” He tells him. Josh’s large brown eyes shifted from him to Alina, who was now watching them.

“He ain’t talking to me, is he?” He asks with a point of his hand. “Shit, I’mma pretend he’s not.” He says, grabbing his phone from the couch. “Because if I gotta get up–.” He laughs to himself. “we going to have a problem.” He finishes. Josh was trying to let Alina handle it, which she was doing a great job at, but if Mike snapped at him one more time, she wouldn’t have to worry about them leaving on their own.

“Y’all letting the air out my house,” Alina says sharply, calling everyone’s attention back to her. “Out.” She points at the exit again.

“Lina–.” Tasha starts.

“Now!” She shouts, causing her friend to flinch at the sudden outburst. Tasha's tongue pushes into the wet flesh of her chin, gliding along to her cheek. She peers at the floor, her left eye twitching as a tear falls. Her hand shoots to her face, quickly wiping away the glistening streams of salty tears.

"Okay," She whispers, slowly moving towards the door. Alina averted her gaze from the woman, unable to watch as Tasha exited her house. Two gusts of wind would pass her, alerting her that they had exited her home. Quickly, she closed the door behind them, hurrying to lock it as if they’d come barging back in. Tasha wasn’t the type to do that, this Alina knew. She had too much pride. They both did. Twenty years of friendship died in forty minutes, all behind Alina’s ex.

It was weird hearing them choose him without saying his name, but then again, of course they did. Why wouldn’t they? She spent so much time putting distance between herself and Theo that she put distance between her and their friends as well. That wasn’t her intention, but she had to protect her peace. It was clear he wasn’t going anywhere, and no one was going to force him to. She tried to avoid making them choose between her and him only to make it easier for them to choose him in the end.

The tension that once filled the house had gone with Tasha and Michael, their absence cooling the air around her and Josh. As the air cooled, it became harder to breathe. The lump in Alina’s throat had grown in size, making her shake with each breath she tried to take. Her heart thumped vigorously in her chest, the sound filling her ears like large drums. Her chest was tight, causing her great discomfort. She leans her head against the door, her hand still wrapped tightly around the doorknob. A familiar heaviness came over her, one that she’d only felt twice in her life. Once when her Grandaddy passed, and the other time when Theo revealed he cheated. That was a feeling she hoped to never feel again, but here she goes, reacquainting herself with grief for the third time.

Josh had only seen Alina cry a handful of times. It was something she preferred to do behind closed doors when no one else was around. His mother used to do that when he and his brothers were kids. Talisua was always wanting to be strong for them despite them telling her she didn’t need to. Alina was the same way.

He tosses his phone to the side, rising from the couch. Slowly, Josh would make his way over to his girlfriend, his arms outstretched to comfort her. “Baby,” He calls, hoping she’d turn to come to him. Instead, she remained against the door, paralyzed by her emotions. His large hand wrapped around her forearm, carefully peeling the hand that gripped the doorknob off first. “Come here.” He says, pulling her towards him. His other arm wrapped around her right shoulder, turning her to face him as he wrapped her in his embrace.

The moment she was in his arms, the sobs she was trying so desperately to suppress broke through. She’d bury her face in Josh’s chest, her tears soaking the black tee he had on. Though her cries were muffled, they still filled the room they stood in. “You did what you had to, you hear me?” He whispers into her hair. His hand traveled up and down her back, trying to soothe her. “I’m proud of you.” He informs her.

Josh knew it took a lot of courage to send Tasha away and that doing it hurt more than it should have. She was important to Alina, existing within a huge portion of her life. Now, she had to figure out how to continue without her. “I got you forever, you hear me?” He promises. “I got you.” He’d press his lips to her head before laying his own upon hers. They’ll stand here for as long as she needs to. Josh didn’t care–he just wanted to make sure his woman was okay.

She was going to feel this in the morning, as she always did when she had a good cry like this one. She was already dreading the headache this would bring, the feeling of swelling in her eyelids from all the crying she’d do tonight and tomorrow. Mourning a person who had died was one thing. Eventually, you’ll heal with time. Mourning a person who was still on the Earth was a whole other pain. It was a wound that desperately wanted to heal, only to reopen at the randomest of times. She now had two wounds: one for Theo and one for Tasha.

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A/N: a little late-night update. I hope you all don't mind. IT'S ABOUT DAMN TIME TASHA SILLY ASS BROUGHT HER ASS AROUND TO THE MCLEMORE-FATU RESIDENCE. What do we think about how everything went down? Leave a comment down below, and let's talk about it.

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gorillastraylight · 17 hours ago

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Alignment sucks for plenty of moral and ideological reasons. However, from a purely game-design perspective it mostly sucks because it’s either totally extraneous or a yawning chasm waiting to swallow the unwary whole, entirely based on how mechanically relevant it is.

I think you can kind of track alignment’s mechanical relevance downwards, with it growing less and less integral to actual systems within the game across editions (though I’d argue there’s a bump up from 4e to 5e). In the TSR days of the basic set, there were whole ass languages derived from alignments - if you were lawful, you got to speak the Lawful “alignment tongue”, a language known by all other lawful creatures in existence. This is on top of things like spell restrictions that are also found in AD&D - hence the need for the frankly abhorrent outlining of the alignment of actions by Gygax.

Further on, you get 3.5 where, as discussed above, alignment is relevant mostly for spells and combat effects (plus paladins have to be lawful good, a truly stupid element). Even if the most ridiculous stuff (alignment tongues) are done away with, 3.5/3e’s principle of laying out a comprehensive, modern and clear ruleset and clearing out the ambiguity of its predecessors necessitated it to have an explicit understanding of alignment - what alignments entailed what behaviours or beliefs, and especially when it could be considered that a character’s alignment had changed. This is the yawning chasm I described above - even absent the wack ass nastiness of Gygax, WotC’s writers were sucked into the quagmire of having to quantify morality by virtue of alignment having mechanical relevance. If I were a designer and found myself typing out the Paladin avalanche thing I would probably smash my head into the wall until I got a little scab. It’s the clearest, most ridiculous example of laying out explicit mechanics for something that should be malleable between tables and fully determined by individual game narratives.

But. You can’t ever fucking acknowledge that, because if you do then 400 angry grognards will burn your house down and call you mean names on Giant in the Playground. Alignment in 4e is a ribbon, plain and simple. In theory it interacts with your choice of deity and what Channel Divinity feats you can take, but that’s truly it (and even that is very…flaccid). Paladins don’t need to be Lawful Good, alignment has basically no interaction with class or spells or other player-facing mechanics. As a result 4e altered the alignment chart to better reflect its de-emphasis of the game element, with the new set of five (Lawful Good, Good, Unaligned, Evil, Chaotic Evil) being much broader and more open to interpretation. This is, short of abolishing alignment all together, the best way to go about it in my opinion. 4e does not have paragraphs describing how outlandish situations might alter a PC’s total of cosmic brownie points because that isn’t relevant at all to 4e’s mechanics. Sadly, however, alignment chart memes are beloved by internet users everywhere and the average Gygaxian already despised 4e for having a fun combat system, so this became another idiotic hill to capture in the edition war. No surprise that WotC walked it back for 5e then.

I don’t even have the energy to go over alignment’s presence in 5e - like the rest of that system, it’s undercooked and unfocused, a weird attempt to make progress on the game while keeping it broadly marketable and appeasing oldheads. They should have just done away with it, frankly, because the whole thing just sucks - it’s either pointless baggage (4e), a blatant gap in an otherwise (allegedly) crunchy and unambiguous ruleset (5e), or a trap that forces rules writers to do weirdo trolly problem write ups (3e). And it always carries that whiff of Gary “The Misogymancer” Gygax with it.

3e: Alignment Is Invisible

The entire alignment system is sick from the top to the bottom and racist too.

Content Warning: I’m going to talk smack about not just Dungeons & Dragons‘ morality system in 3rd edition, but also, in the process, talk some smack about Christians, and more specifically the Jehovah’s Witnesses. If you’re not here for that, you should find yourself a door.

Few elements of Dungeons & Dragons that lay bare its deeply incoherent roots have endured quite so long as the alignment system. Whenever discussing the alignment system, and by extension, the conception of morality presented in this game, it’s always worth remembering that the framework was devised by, and speaks to the values of, a deeply racist and misogynistic man who in addition to those larger, more structurally common biases, was also a Jehovah’s Witness and heavily informed by the way that that specific sect of American Christianity works.

I’ll spare you a detailed rundown of what I mean by American Christianity (for now, because this is about Dungeons & Dragons), but instead in the broadest strokes indicate that the alignment system that Gygax conceived of was something cosmically tracked and enforced. It was a truly objective morality system; your intention or your attitude did not matter, because there was an absolute right and an absolute wrong to each action, and characters could choose to comply with that right or not, by degrees.

This is why I say racist: It’s a hard fact in the first editions of D&D under Gygax’s most direct control that killing orc children who hadn’t done anything was a moral good; those creatures were evil creatures, and regardless of consequences killing them was good. Gygax quoted the ‘lice make nits’ line from the colonialism of the Americas to reinforce this position, but he was also quite clear that it was the act itself that had its moral valence, not the results or the intention.

This quite frankly deeply evil and immoral ethical framework was the horse to which Dungeons & Dragons 3rd Edition had to nonetheless hitch its wagon, and the resultant discord show a host of cracks in the way it’s supposed to work. Politicians who starve millions are in no ways doing anything wrong because they’re doing their jobs and there’s nothing evil in signing a piece of paper, but the people who enforce that law and keep orphans away from the food are also not doing anything wrong because they’re just upholding order. The core rulebook of 3rd edition had to try and address this framework without making it too obvious that elements of it were being thrown out the window, especially as the purpose of alignment shifted subtly in the more programmatic, more, let’s say, intentionally designed world of 3rd edition.

See, in 3rd edition, the purpose of alignment was first and foremost to let you target things. Oh sure, it was flavour, it helped to inform some monster behaviours or styles, but mostly, you were never going to scan the alignment of things you fought (not worth the effort) which meant that what alignment did was let you make reasonable guesstimates for smart-targeting of spells and effects. If you threw a spell that protected you from evil creatures into the mix it meant that you had some control over the kinds of threats you’d deal with and then prioritise them. In the purest sense, this was a reference point for magical spells.

Secondarily to that, it informed the moral valence of what you were doing and it was with the rulebooks The Book of Vile Darkness and its prettier but equally vacuous cousin The Book of Exalted Deeds that 3rd edition attempted to really roll up its sleeves and discuss morality in a way that could square the circle of previous editions’ heinous moral landscape and 3rd edition’s attempt to improve it by just rearranging some of the words.

The problem, such as it was, is that alignment was fundamentally invisible. You could have no control over what you did and how it affected you morally, because it was a matter of checking a list of subjects and determining what you did not what you thought or tried to do. If you killed a child and it turns out that child was a shapeshifted demon in disguise, the rules would say that you were in no way morally impacted by your desire to do it. If on the othe hand, you refused to kill the child that was a demon in disguise, because that’s a pretty messed up thing to want to do, then you’d failed to do a good act.

Now, the way the Book of Exalted Deeds tried to grapple with this was by presenting virtues that stood apart from the listed examples of explicitly evil acts. Doing mercy was shown as part of the tension with punishing evil and that’s a pretty good rules patch for the absolutist nature of things. It at least lets the player present something that’s within their control (why they did something) rather than one of those invisible wires around them.

One of the examples the book presented in 3rd edition was that if you climbed a cliff face, and in the process a rock fell and started an avalanche, then that avalanche killed people, then you were morally liable. In fact, a Paladin who did that kind of thing would lose access to their powers, while trying to redeem themselves for the sin of… climbing something.

The added problem with all of this is that no element of opposition or ambition cannot be framed with different moral outlooks that change nothing about how it expresses. A ruthless pursuit of justice and a sadistic love of control over criminals would both be expressed roughly similarly in a Javert-style inspector. A characte’rs own alignment, what they determine their alignment to be is something that can always be rationalised in terms of a framework of moral choices, and those intentions are going to be what informs the actual result of the test. If you’re doing everything right for an asshole reason, the world does not see you as doing evil acts, but your alignment can still be evil because there’s nothing in the world forcing you to change from your mindset of being a total prick.

The 4th edition system did try and push back against this with some interesting ideas of its own, but based on watching people talking about 5th edition games? Boy howdy they did not learn from that and instead decided to RETVRN to the worst version of the system so far.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

#dnd 3e #games #ttrpg #alignment #4e #5e #dnd #dungeons and dragons #D&D

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mooshy333 · 18 hours ago

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Omg the men are fighting 😱 🔥

I wanted to draw Mylo and Claggor in my design thoughts and style in general, so this isn't a specific AU art or anything like that. I didn't want to copy Jayce, so I tried my best with Claggors designed hammer he would use in battle and make it more of something Claggor would have made. And as it does have Hextech from wherever (idk yet) it doesn't function like Jayce’s, it's a power hammer >:), and OMG. Mylo was so difficult at first because of his style, sneakiness, and stealth, as well as his speed. And it took a while to come up with the perfect main weapon he would use that would fit his character, that didn't match up with anyone else, like a pistol gun would have been ideal, but the fact it makes me think of Jinx wasn't the right one, I wanted to give him a main weapon that would make me think of him and his character. So eventually I came up with the idea of a whip, and I felt it was perfect for him. So he got some brass-chained whips, one for each hand. I also just had the big main fight between Jinx and Vi in my brain and wanted to see if it was flopped :) I would love to honestly see a fight scene between the two— or any of them fighting and kicking a$$. I also hope that some of y'all will get the reference of the meme I added to make it less angsty and depressing war vibes 😂

Also, personal art message: for the first time in a while, I approached this drawing in a completely different way, and I'm really pleased with how it turned out. I decided to let go and enjoy the process. Let me explain: I sketch all the time in my sketchbook outside of digital, and I usually allow myself to be free with it, not worrying about how good or perfect it has to be. However, for over a year now, I've been very strict with just my digital art, especially concerning the line work. I always felt the pressure to make the lines straight and as “perfect” as possible, which turned the creative process into more of a chore than something I truly enjoyed.

Typically, I would sketch, then clean it up before moving on to another layer for the lining, repeating this a few times just to nail the details. But with this drawing, after my initial sketch, I decided to loosen up during the lining phase. Instead of trying to achieve precision, I opted for a freer approach, using a darker shade of black to outline, almost as if I were sketching again. I also realized that relying on the “bucket tool” in the app I use was not the best idea; while it’s quick, it often left me with subpar results. So, I colored everything by hand instead, finding it not only faster but also much more effective. As I colored, I layered additional colors for highlights, details, and shadows, which helped maintain my mental ease throughout the process.

In short, make sure you enjoy your work, but don’t exhaust yourself striving for perfection, as it’s ultimately unattainable. I realize it’s perfectly fine to be loose and a little messy! Whatever your style is, it is unique no matter what. 🥰

#claggor and mylo #mylo and claggor #mylo arcane #arcane mylo #arcane claggor #claggor arcane #arcane netflix #arcane fanart #arcane fandom #my art #character art #digital art #art #fan art #arcane #arcane characters #character design

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pallisia · 3 days ago

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more batch asks

thank you every. cut for spoilers

Anonymous asked:

I know you've made a lot of jokes about "you have to be nice to me" and "you've signed the contract" but I am honestly so happy to see a dark, truly cruel character like ysme portrayed in the way you've written her. when you think she won't go lower she sweeps you from a hole under your feet. the swap between perspectives and how others view her makes her actions that much more shocking and enthralling. it's a complete blast to read and makes her such an interesting character. in a time when it feels like more and more writers are wary of making characters too "mean" and the demand for mass appeal can lead to creative limitations to keep viewers engaged, ysme is a breath of fresh air. I love evil girls but even my jaw was on the floor.

thank you very much. but the contract is still in effect

@adair-trashart asked: i have the new soulsov update downloaded im planning on showing it to my other adult friends once our schedules line up >:33333333333

yay! i hope you all have fun.

@braveswordwielder asked:

Hey Soulsov 2 good Thanks for breaking new ground in the talking animals genre

thank you very much. i don't know if i'm breaking new ground exactly, but i'm glad you enjoyed.

Anonymous asked:

I love how past some point ysmé is the kind of person that's exactly the kind of person she says she is, and both her words and actions reflect that, yet still some part of me like Loic wants to see something that most likely is not there. I love every time this happens she rips my heart out and laughs about it. and then it happens again. I love soulsov.

thank you. please look forward to it.

@mobi-gg asked:

Ok I know I signed the contract so I have to go thru with it anyway, but I really do like how you are writing Ysme and her dynamic with Loic. Like she's done some very cruel shit this chapter, but I want to know why she's like this. How much of it is her true nature, how much is a facade or her strategy for rebelling and getting what she wants. Is there some kindness underneath it all in the end? Is it foolish to hope for such a thing? Truly I am acting like Loic rn. As for the rest of the chapter. Amazing. Everyone is so charming and lovable (even Ysme with her.. everything). The music and art were delightful and the pacing??? wow.

thank you so much. i love that this is the same sentiment as the previous ask. i'm glad she's compelling in spite of everything.

Anonymous asked:

Not only am I not mad, I am absolutely delighted by the contents of chapter 2. Good and “bad” alike, the writing is exhilarating, the chemistry between the characters is unparalleled, and adoration of all the art easily doubled my read time. Every time I see the New Friend I spend a solid minute on the verge of tears for my love, I am hoping Ysme gets even worse, I’m ready to see Loic be broken, and also additionally when I got to the “fishing” I thought it was a reference to the World of Ruin fishing mechanic in FF6 and I was TERRIFIED by it but it WAS really funny

thank you very much. i should have added an invisible timer that killed loic offscreen if you took too long.

@notactuallyahat asked:

Chapter 2 was fantastic, thank you so much for creating it! The 'if order has no place for you' line made me tear up a little, and I am amazed how Ysme continuing to be herself and behaving in exactly the way she has always said she will still somehow felt surprising and was very much an emotional gut punch. 10/10, can't wait to reread it also I didn't realize the fishing minigame was just a fishing minigame so my first response was to immediately save in a mild panic

thank you. see! without a fishing minigame, when else would you think to save. it's game design baby

Anonymous asked:

chapter 2 was great. thank you as always for sharing. the tonal shifts between ysmes omnipotence as sexy and fun vs utterly abject are really affecting. very much looking forward to the future horrors. cheers!

thank you for reading!

@fluffycattens asked:

Ysmé......... I thought she was a fun character after chapter 1 but now that I've finished chapter 2 I'm rotating her in my mind, what a cool and normal woman (she's awful and I love her) Thoughts and theories and impatience to learn more about her and the world, your storytelling and in particular your worldbuilding is so good!

thanks so much! please continue rotating her. i will do the same.

@rarmaster asked:

finished chapter 2 and immedaitely sent it to my friends who LOVE women's wrongs. also: wow this was great. i am fondly rotating the prose and dialogue around and around in my heart. your words are just so very good and i like to read them. i also love to see your art, too, of course, so every CG was a treat. ball………. also oh my god (had no idea about tutu's everything and am really basking in it right now) Oh My God.

thank you! i kind of spoiled tutu for longtime followers by posting art of her years ago, but i'm glad she ended up being a total surprise for a lot of readers. i'm glad she is loved.

Anonymous asked:

i don't think i'm going to see the phrase "unrequited love" the same way ever again. masterful stroke with the prose descriptions of pansies and specifically witchgaze: flower that means forcing heartbreak on someone. flower that means forcing shame and obedience. flower that cracks your brain open and pours in self-hatred.

thank you. the witchgaze's meaning went through a lot of different iterations before ending up there. not that we'll ever see it again or anything lol, but if we did i'd say "please look forward to it"

Anonymous asked:

flower that means you broke my heart... flower that means i got really attached to loic and his former [spoiler character]... flower that means kiss him gently he deserves so much better than what he has right now... flower that means i signed the contract and i'm already excited for chapter three!

flower that means yay

#txt #q&a

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thydungeongal · 17 hours ago

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just had an acquaintance reach out to me asking for a recommendation for a ttrpg that is:

1. friendly to beginner GMs (which in your parlance i would interpret to mean "does not place an inordinate expectation of prep and labor on the GM"),

2. capable of being played virtually, and

3. lends itself to improv.

any thoughts?

Games in the Powered by the Apocalypse framework lend themselves to improv by both mandating that everyone play the game to find out what happens instead of trying to put the story on rails, while also being very minimal on the prep for the MC. These games are also usually open to sharing narrative agency so that all players have some editing power over the fiction, like adding details and characters into the world when prompted.

My favorite PbtA games are Apocalypse World (the game that originally spawned the framework), Monsterhearts (melodramatic teen monster romance, one of my favorite games PERIOD), Dungeon Bitches (lesbians getting fucked up in dungeons; very raw and uncompromising) and Fellowship (a fantasy adventure game about a fellowship of people standing up against an evil overlord: works as a straight action game, but also promotes fighting against the evil overlord by winning hearts and minds), but there are so many to choose from.

If your friend is looking for something familiar to D&D players there is literally a PbtA D&D pastiche called Dungeon World, which is okay but doesn't quite do it for me.

Quest is another good option: it's free adventure RPG very much meant for the "minimal rules, play a silly adventure game while occasionally rolling dice with lots of rooms for improv" playstyle. Very much in the broad genre of fantasy adventure.

If that doesn't do it for your friend let me know, maybe with a few more specifics.

#thydungeongal answers

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steddieunderdogfics · 2 days ago

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This week’s writer spotlight feature is: WabiSabiPapi! @arimakes has 16 fics posted to AO3 in the Stranger Things fandom and 12 of them are in the Steddie tag.

Our anonymous nominator recommends the following works by WabiSabiPapi:

Fill My Lungs With Sweetness

Peach Boy

Dog Days of Summer

March Madness

"They're multitalented-- not only do they write beautifully but they're an amazing illustrator, too. Ari puts so much heart into everything they create." -- anonymous

Below the cut, @arimakes answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

I’m starting to think I’m possessed? It all began because I really wanted to read one specific thing and nobody had done it yet, so I figured, why not try writing it myself? I haven’t been able to stop since. Turns out, it’s my favourite thing in the world to do, and I think about it all the time. Art has been my source of creative expression since I was a kid, I really never expected to love telling stories this much, too.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

Hands down idiot4idiot, mutual bi-discovery! I’m pretty sure Steddie’s natural state is clueless and confused! Big shout out to @bilbosmom-belladonna’s Exactly What It Looks Like!

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

Hmm, so I love writing an Alternate Universe. I love canon, but I really enjoy plopping them in a variety of situations and discovering how a change in circumstance might impact them. Looking at my tags on AO3, I tend towards Friends to Lovers as well!

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

Oh goshhhh! This is so tough because I have so many that I think about often, but the very top would have to be Is Your Light On? By Vio. The boys are imperfect in such a human way. Their motivations make sense even when their decisions have you screaming at your phone. Vio is also a master in subtlety. There is a treasure trove of subtext to parse through so reading any of their work is truly a remarkable experience. I also credit Vio entirely for my involvement in the Steddie fandom. My first piece of fanart was for IYLO. It’s the reason why I ended up connecting and making friends with other creators!

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

There would be so much to explore through a Came Back Wrong fic! Either POV, really! The gnawing suspicion of someone you know who is acting strangely or maybe losing grasp of yourself after a tragedy. It’s a great opportunity to utilize an unreliable narrator, plus I really enjoy misleading readers or hiding things (either from the reader or from a character) until a big reveal.

What is your writing process like?

I always write a bullet point outline with the overarching plot and then pass through it over and over and over again, adding more details every time. Sometimes, I’ll be on a walk or cooking and an idea for a scene or piece of dialogue or interiority will pop in my head, so I pick up my phone and add a bullet point in the proper spot. I am always considering interiority, action, dialogue, and scenography as I plan and write. If the scene is hinging on a conversation, I’ll write that part first and then weave in the rest of it to make sure all my bases are covered! By the time I’m actually writing prose, I’ve got pretty well every scene figured out beat by beat.

Do you have any writing quirks?

At the beginning of the writing process, I often have the intention to keep a fic short… like in my current fic The Carnivorous Lamb, I literally told a few of my friends that I was just gonna write a quick n dirty one-shot and now I have no clue how long it’s going to be. For some reason, I can’t make em hook up without an in-depth character study!!

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

I have no patience! As soon as I’m done writing a chapter and it’s been beta’d (shout out to Amy), I am raring to post.

Which fic are you most proud of?

Right Where You Belong will always be the one I’m most proud of, I think. It’s the first thing I ever wrote and even though I’ve learned a lot since that one, I am still so so proud of it. The timeline was complex (it’s a time travel au) so I had to thread things throughout it all and make sure the dates all made sense!

How did you get the idea for Dog Days of Summer?

Dog Days of Summer is actually the final installment of a series! The first part was a Tommy POV called A Piece of Something (You Think Is Gonna Last) which came from a list of prompts from a Valentine’s Exchange on a server I’m a part of. I wrote the first part over the course of a few days, and I couldn’t stop thinking of the little lake town and the silly characters living within it. A bigger story webbed out from that first part so I decided I’d write a different one for the exchange and explore the backstory more thoroughly through an Eddie POV (Peach Boy) and then a Steve POV (Dog Days of Summer) to then catch up to the events in the Tommy POV. So, I have CheshireDog to thank for the entire Boys of Summer series! More specifically, though, in Dog Days of Summer, Steve is finding his place in the world in a big way. It follows him over a span of six years while he falls in love with this town his family summers in and surprise surprise! He falls in love with Eddie, too! It was my first time doing a deep dive into Steve as a character. I partially wrote it as a challenge to myself to understand him more thoroughly and discover his voice!

When writing Dog Days of Summer, what was something you didn’t expect?

I honestly wasn’t expecting it to resonate with people as much as it did. Out of all of my fics, it was the one I got the most engagement on Tumblr with folks sending asks just to tell me how excited they were for the next chapter.

What inspired March Madness?

March Madness was written as part of Sub Eddie Week last year. I love Steddie in any combination: top, bottom, vers, sub, dom, switch! Let the boys have fun! I’ll read and write it all. But something about Sub!Eddie just clicks with me. From the beginning of this ship, Dom!Eddie fics have DOMINATED (is it tacky to wink here?). Currently, searching the tags on AO3, Dom!Eddie has 1,511 works whereas Sub!Eddie has 658. That event from last year added 118 to the pool! To think that one event is responsible for nearly one-fifth of that tag is pretty incredible. Don’t get me wrong, March Madness is a very silly fic. I love to bring humour into kink, because in my personal experience, I prefer it when there is an edge of humour and playfulness. That’s all to say that I don’t take myself too seriously in regards to this fic, but in the second chapter, I did want to represent submissive tops. I won’t make any grand statements here, but I think some folks equate domming with topping, which again, in my real-life experience just isn’t the case. If it were, then femdoms who receive wouldn’t exist.

What was your favorite part to write from Peach Boy?

There’s a scene in Peach Boy—actually, it’s the scene that everything was building towards… Eddie is thirteen so his emotions and imagination are big and wild. He’s been driving himself mad over something so small and innocuous (finding peach pits lying around town in strange places) and he reaches a breaking point. I love writing Eddie’s interiority. He’s got such an over-dramatic, colourful, and unique voice, so finding ways to express that with odd turns of phrases and jaunty language is a blast. And when he’s thirteen, that just amps it all up ten-fold! In that particular scene, he loses control and his interiority bubbles up and bursts out of him in a very physical and silly way. It was fun to play with his awareness of his actions and to orchestrate how a moment stretches on or freezes or slips away from oneself.

How do/did you feel writing Fill My Lungs With Sweetness?

Super inspired! It’s a twist on Hanahaki and I did a bunch of research on the ancient Greek/Roman medicine system of humorism in which the human body is made up of four humors: blood, phlegm, yellow bile, and black bile. If anything is out of balance in a person’s life, a build-up or stagnation of any of these four things occurs in the body, and that’s how people get sick. I loved the marriage of humorism with Hanahaki—a physical manifestation of not expressing one’s love. In this fic, rather than flowers invading a person’s lungs, it’s vines and sap. The illness first presents as an upper respiratory infection (lots of sticky, sappy, phlegm) and if you wait too long, you eventually lose the ability to speak because of it! Sorry if I’m nerding out too much here, but I’m a sucker for symbolism so I also tied the seasons in with it, and the phlegmatic humor is associated with winter!

What was the most difficult part of writing Fill My Lungs With Sweetness?

I had finished writing one of the chapters of Fill My Lungs With Sweetness and sent it off to be beta’d, but something just wasn’t sitting right with me. Initially, I wrote a conflict culminating in a certain way, but when I started writing the next chapter it felt like I was trying to write myself out of a corner. So after chatting with Amy, I decided to rewrite a big chunk of it and switch up how everything shook out so I could approach things from a totally different angle that made so much more sense for the characters and story. I’ve encountered the same issue before while co-writing Late Bloomers with Amy. I just couldn’t get through writing a scene and we determined that it was just the wrong thing for the character to go through. In the planning phase, a scene or a decision might make sense, but as the story shakes out while writing the actual prose, things can definitely change. Sometimes you gotta scrap entire scenes and approach things from a different perspective!

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

It’s a toss-up between the final scene of Right Where You Belong and the final three paragraphs of Dog Days of Summer. My favourite parts of writing a story are always the beginning and the end. Tying everything together into a satisfying conclusion is thrilling! I get a lil rush of serotonin from it I think.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

Right now, I’m working on The Carnivorous Lamb. It’s ongoing and it’s the first fic I’ve really allowed myself to settle into the middle of the story rather than barreling toward the finish line. If you like age gaps, power dynamics, and kink exploration with a big helping of religious quandary, this may be the fic for you!

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

Mainly, I want to express my gratitude for the friendships I’ve formed through this fandom. It’s so inspiring and such a special thing to be a part of. And I’m honoured folks read my work at all, let alone get excited about updates. Having not found this hobby until my thirties, it really is a testament to never knowing what you might discover about yourself as the years go on! There are things you have NO CLUE you will love waiting for you in your future!

Thank you to our author, @arimakes, and our nominator! See more of WabiSabiPapi's works featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer’s Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#writer's spotlight #writer's wednesday #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve x eddie #steddie fic recs #steddieunderdogfics

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