#( armour up bitches ) ooc.

[thirdsght]

the amount of times rivk has walked in on another knight having sex and casually kept asking the question he came to ask ...

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Happy follower milestone! Maybe an Ettore onesbot where reader is assistant to the doctor Dibs and maybe some kind of nurse kink???

Afflictions Of A Dark Nature

Thank you for the request! I hope this lives up to your expectations! This is my first time writing for Ettore so apologies if it seems OOC, I did try my best (I even re-watched High Life and will be sending the bill for emotional damages). Also get well soon @ewanmitchellcrumbs 😚

Warnings under the cut! Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Ettore Taglist

Warnings: *deep breath* lots of swearing, mentions of past sexual encounters that may have not been consensual, fingering, dub-con, p in v sex, ass slapping, degradation, mentions of a blood test, male masturbation, oral (f receiving), creampie, cum eating, dacryphyilia, choking, kinda face slapping?, ass play, spitting, overstimulation | Word Count: 6.4k~ | dividers by @firefly-graphics

If he had to see that wrinkly, smug face of Dr Dibs again, Ettore would lose it.

He knew who he was. He wasn’t beyond acting out against women if he wanted to. It’s part of what put him here in the first place. Drifting through space, on some suicide mission that the oh-so-wise earthlings had decided it would be better to doom prisoners to death rather than qualified astronauts. Not like it mattered. He was on death-row anyway, so what loss really was it?

Only the loss of his complete sanity.

He knew that if he lashed out at anyone, even Dr Dibs, there’d be a punishment of sorts. In a way that was wholly unethical for someone who is supposed to provide care, but hey, who’s keeping track. Nobody gives a shit on earth. She could put arsenic in the water supply if she wanted to, and nobody could say a thing about it.

For the sake of at least living longer, though it made him dry-heave inside, he sweetened up, got more sleeping pills out of it as a result, which in this place was gold dust. A long, good-night’s sleep did little to take a person away from a situation like this, but it was at least something. A small mercy in a way.

Deep down, there was a need-no, an impulse that Ettore couldn’t shake. 

But before he could indulge in the memories of those needs, someone called his name.

“Ettore, is it?” 

Her voice was sweet, far too compassionate for someone stuck aboard working on this fucked up prison. And when she raised her eyebrows at him to elicit a response, she gave a polite smile. When was the last time someone smiled at him, truly?

She had a clipboard in front of her, disguising the lanyard around her neck and she wore blue scrubs, which looked the same design as the prisoners, but instead theirs were red.

Perhaps to show how dangerous they were. Hers was clinical and clean. Pure.

He wore suspicion on his face, marked with the furrow of his brows and without saying a word he stood and followed her into the infirmary. She was a head shorter than him which made him smirk when he was sure she wasn’t looking. 

All he knew was that he was grateful it wasn’t that wrinkly, smug bitch. He was sure she was doing something fucking weird to them. Just couldn’t put his finger on what.

When she drew the curtain, she let him in first, “Have a seat”

This cubicle was at least separate. And even though they’d not been on the ship for long, it looked crusty and old, with those wax linoleum floors, vile padded walls. It looked like it was going to fall apart. 

Ettore slumped into a chair next to a computer with a huff, taking in his surroundings, still trying to figure out what to make of this new person. Why hadn’t he seen her before? And she looked a lot younger than Dibs, was she even a real doctor or nurse at all?

Her hair was in a loose bun, fractionally more formal than Dibs who wore her braid like armour over her shoulder at all times. It made her look older, despite what Dibs would like to have believed. 

She sat down in front of the computer, typing in a few things, and he admired her face for a moment in silence. The way the light of the monitor reflected off the colour of her eyes, how her tongue darted out to lick her lips when she was trying to read something and how fast her fingers typed on the old, beige keyboard that was far too loud for his liking. Sounded like a clock was ticking in his brain.

He didn’t say a word. As was Ettore’s way. He was usually never one to speak first. He was an observer, seeking out the weaknesses of people as if he could simply by looking, like he could extract a little piece of them the longer he did. For her though, he couldn’t make her out.

When Ettore craned his head slowly to look, he could see she was reading his medical history and it made him feel special to know that she was finding out everything she could about him. He wished he could do the same to her. Find out all her little secrets.

“Just some general things and blood work today, nothing fancy” she says, meeting his eyes for a moment with another polite smile, the kind of smile where she’s clearly just trying to be nice, but Ettore can’t help the deep ache in his core to have a woman in front of him now, after years of not touching one. The Box was fine, sure, but there was no other feeling like a woman. Their warm, fleshy insides, each ridge within different from woman to woman.

Something knocked on the door in his mind. A sinful thought had arrived and asked how would she feel? Did she use the Box as well? Who did she think of when she touched herself?

“Roll up your sleeve for me” she instructs, holding the blood pressure monitor in her hands and tearing the velcro away. 

She meets his eyes again briefly to find him already looking at her when she leans forward to wrap it around his bicep, right over where his tattoo is. She has small, soft hands, indicative of her work. How would they feel on him, wrapped around his cock? Would her hands even surround him? That was all he could think about as she patted the cuff in place, brushing against his shoulder.

The machine whirred to life and it squeezed his arm, at the end bordering on pain which made him wince. She busied herself with typing on her computer in the meantime, the lanyard around her neck now visible, showing her name.

Got you.

When the machine beeped, she looked at the screen and put the results into his record, wheeling her chair to him again to take it off. He felt his cock get hard beneath his scrubs not just at the feel of her hands on him again, but now because of her proximity. He assumed everyone used the same soap here, she was no exception. But it smelled different on her and he inhaled a deep, long breath to commit as much of it to memory as he could.

She looked surprised when he spoke, as if she hadn’t expected him to.

“Why haven’t I seen you around”

It was hardly a questioning tone, more like an accusation. But she didn’t flinch away at it, rather, she was used to it.

She gave another polite smile, “Oh well, I’m usually in here, running all the tests Dibs gives me” she explains, getting her additional tools ready for the blood test, “But she wanted more help with ‘menial’ tasks like this, is how she put it” she says with a short, quiet huff of a laugh, like she thinks the reasoning was poor.

“So now you’re doing poor sod’s blood tests?” 

She nodded, “Something like that” 

Her tools were lined up, a tourniquet, a syringe and some cotton swabs. She pulled a pair of blue gloves on and moved her chair closer to him. 

“So you’re gonna poke at me?” he asks, half-amused, like he’s testing her.

She cleans the area around his arm with alcohol, a puff of air coming out her nose in a quiet laugh, tightening the tourniquet on him “Just seeing if you have good veins” she says, running her thumb over the pale skin of his arm, clearly finding a vein she was happy with.

Dr Dibs always missed his vein at least once, and he’d clench his fist as the needle went in. He wasn’t into drugs, like a lot of other prisoners here, so he wasn’t used to the prickly feeling. He found pleasure in other ways he deemed fit.

“Just a scratch” she mutters, inserting the needle beneath his skin, smiling to herself when blood goes into the bottle. First time. 

Ettore watched the vial fill with rich, thick blood, and then watched her, “You seem a bit young to be a doctor”

"Technically I'm a Junior Doctor" she replies, concentrating on his blood flow before meeting his eyes again. She seems to look at him deeply, her pupils flirting across his face now that they're so close to each other. He hears every little breath, every movement of her throat as she swallows thick, like she's nervous. And everytime her tongue darts out to wet her lips, he stares at the pinkness of it, thinking of how it would feel.

"Should I be trusting you to give me a blood test?" He teases with a wolfish grin, trying to see just how far he can push his luck.

"Hm, I don't suppose you have much choice" her smile turns a bit devilish at his quip, which quite honestly, the turn of her lips makes him want to bend her over the desk and fuck her right then and there. Wants to see what kind of sweet sounds she might make. Even the thought of it makes his cock ache.

“Suppose not”

"I'm allowed to give you blood tests" she says with a teasing smile, pulling the needle from his arm and replacing it with a cotton swab, "Hold that there for me" 

He obeys, holding it with his thumb firmly, smirking at the banter he didn't expect to have. The fact that she doesn't visibly seem afraid of him only spurs him on more. Thinking how far can he really go to make her feel uncomfortable. To make her realise just how dangerous he is, what he could do to her.

If anything he's shocked at his own restraint that he's managed this long without touching her. Such a small little thing. She wouldn’t stand a chance against him if he put his mind to it. And in those cute little scrubs as well, she doesn’t have a clue what she’s doing to him. How easy would it be to just rip right through them, to see if she was wearing anything underneath. He imagined she wasn’t, and that he’d rip them open to be greeted with her bare, soft skin, how plush and feminine her tits would be, filling his palm. He wants to squeeze them painfully, make her whine out like a slut.

His body is getting hot, blood thrumming with want.

Once the cotton swab is secured to his arm with adhesive, he can’t take his eyes off her, challenging her to meet his gaze to see what she would do.

“Why are you here?” he asks, intrigued. She doesn’t look a bit like a criminal. But he could be surprised by her and he has a feeling he will.

“That’s a personal question” she states, not losing the lazy smirk on her face at the fact he’s clearly so interested in her, “why are you here?”

“Alright, point taken”

She doesn’t prod for more information.

Holding out a clear tub to him, “You know what to do right?” she asks, clearly holding back a wider smile.

Cheeky bitch.

He snatches it from her grasp with a grin, “Now?”

Her eyebrow twitches in amusement.

“However long it takes”

A jolt goes through his body, as if a light had just come on inside. Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be.

Fucking cock tease.

He gave her a look before drawing the curtain in the cubicle, barely a few feet from where she sat. So close that he could hear her typing on her computer, hear her quiet sighs. What sweet noises would she make with his cock prodding her soft, tight insides.

Usually when he did sperm samples for Dibs, he took no enjoyment from the idea that she was essentially in the same room as him, not that it took him any less time to cum, she was still a woman and that meant something. As repulsive as she seemed. 

But when he took himself in his fist and stroked himself to hardness, teased himself with eyes softly falling shut, he imagined they were her hands. Everytime he squeezed from base to tip, reaching down with the other hand to cup his balls, wondering what her tongue would feel like dragging over every inch of him. Would she tease him? Lick his angry red tip only slightly, and that sensitive spot underneath, flattening her wet muscle over it slowly, allowing him to feel every warm and minute movement.

Without even really realising, his hand was guiding himself faster, desperate to feel the friction of her pussy choking him. Would she buck her hips to meet his desperate thrusts, or squirm away as he bullied the end of her, pushing against her cervix recklessly. He wanted her to be a good girl, and just take what he gave her. If he started, would he really truly be able to stop?

He struggled to hold in the shuddered breaths and he very nearly forgot to put the tub in front of him before finishing. A pleasant roll of warmth ran through his body, one that quickly turned into a dark, deep desire. His hand wasn't enough. He hadn’t touched a woman in so long. He wanted the real thing and she was right there. Dirty bitch was probably already wet thinking about what he was doing.

Slipping through the curtain he handed it out to her and she took it with an amused raise of her eyebrows.

“That was quick” she quipped, putting a lid on it and writing his name for the label.

Oh she’s going to get it, dirty fucking mouth.

He couldn’t hold off the sort of accomplished grin on his face, she was more fun than he thought. For a moment, he allowed himself to just simply observe her, wondering what other fun they could have.

He was growing impatient at not being able to act on those thoughts. 

“Is that it?” he asks, making her look up again.

“Unless you have any other…ailments?” Ettore doesn’t miss the way she suppresses a grin by biting the inside of her cheek. He doesn’t suppress his and feels impossibly hard once again seeing her dainty lips curl up just slightly. She must be able to see beneath the thin fabric of his scrubs, how much he wants her. Let her see, he thinks, make her squirm a bit.

He watches the way her eyes briefly run over him. It was so quick, that had he not been looking right at her, he would have missed it. She swallows, feeling like he caught her and turns away a bit, trying to hide the warm feeling that settles between her legs at the way he’s looking at her, exciting and yet dangerous at the same time.

She only hopes he doesn’t notice the way she’s squeezed her thighs together. 

“Smashing then, cheers doc” he smirks, sauntering off with a certain swagger about him, knowing that his sweet, innocent looking little doctor is all worked up. He looks over his shoulder before leaving.

The ache of the blood test is completely forgotten. Instead, all his blood is below his waist, with none left for his brain to function. It’s been a while since a woman last did this to him. Yeah he’d fucked plenty of women, some had even wanted it. But he wanted her to want it. Wanted the little slut to beg for it. To beg him to stuff her full of his cock.

That was new, he thought. But it didn’t deter him from trying to get near her when she was alone, for any chance he could get at having her all to himself. 

Annoyingly, he didn’t find the opportunity for quite some time.

Anytime he stalked past her office, there was always some other prisoner inside, having their own tests. A flash of something akin to a dark jealousy courses through his veins, his hands forming fists whenever he hears her talking in a hushed voice to another male prisoner, speaking in that way that only a doctor does.

It’s short lived, when he realises she doesn’t speak as sweetly to them as she does to him.

It feels like he’s had a hard-on for days, just merely thinking about being alone with her. It’s beginning to become painful just how much he wants it, to make her squirm for him, to make her cry. His use of the Box has increased dramatically, but the more he does it, the less the effect. His hand doesn’t do it for him anymore. He can’t replicate that tightness only a woman's cunt could give, the feeling of being sucked so desperately inside someone, being milked for all he’s worth. He dreams of it. She would take it all, he thinks, she’d be a good little slut and take it.

He thinks that if he goes there often enough, he might just run into her, drag her inside, or to a nearby hallway, or even tackle her to the floor if need be and shove himself so deep in her she won’t be able to hold back her wanton moans. He imagines holding her arms behind her back so she can’t move, brutally fucking her so hard that her hips will be bruised. 

He’s always liked walking around in the dark, even though he knows he’s not really allowed.

Tonight though, it rewards him.

A soft light emanates from her office and when he leans against the doorway to peek inside, he emits a quiet laugh through his nose, hands in pockets, just watching her.

Her hair is free of the loose bun she wore before and it trails down her back as she’s sat in her chair, leaning over a microscope. She’s so engrossed in what she’s doing and recording notes that his presence doesn’t even disturb her.

He didn’t even think about announcing his presence. He wanted her genuine reaction.

So he didn’t think twice about stalking up behind her and grabbing a fistful of her hair, yanking her back. Only a quiet gasp escaped before he slammed his palm over her mouth, muffling a surprised cry.

“Shut the fuck up” he warned with a low voice.

She froze at his words, eyes wide and breathing heavily, not even having to wonder who it was. His fingers curled painfully against her scalp, tugging her up so her back is to him. Ettore can feel her hurried breaths out her nose hitting his hand.

“Be quiet and I’ll play nice” he says against the shell of her ear, making her body shudder, drawing his hand away from her mouth.

“What the hell are you doing?” she whispers accusingly behind her as he pushes the front of her body close to the desk, the edge biting into the front of her legs. His hands run down the sides of her, sucking in the fabric to the shape of her body, growling low at finally being able to see her form underneath.

“I came to see you” he grins,

“Fucking liar”

There was something exciting about being called out like that, and about her saying such vulgar words. As sweet as she looked, he knew there was something deep inside, somewhere he wanted to prod and poke at.

“It’s your own fucking fault” he snarls, pushing his hardness against the softness of her ass. He feels her freeze up for a moment, as if she’s just putting the pieces together, “prancing about in your slutty fucking doctor’s outfit”

One hand dips beneath the hem of her scrubs, a warm sigh expelled from his chest at the softness of her stomach beneath it, trailing higher over her ribs. He can almost feel her pounding heart from here, and it does nothing to deter him, the smirk on his face evidence of that. His large palm tugs at one of her clothed breasts, slightly annoyed to see that she’s wearing a bra underneath, but he squeezes it all the same, relishing in the pained whine she lets out in response to it.

His other hand tugs her forearm almost painfully behind her, twisting it in his grip harshly. He fully knew how strong he was compared to her and couldn’t have her doing anything rash. Best to keep her hands where he can see them.

“I was just trying to be nice” she counters with a harshness to her voice, not being able to take the breathiness out of it,  “Damn sight better than what most of you deserve” she briefly struggles in his hold, that is until he tightens the clamp on her wrist. A warning.

“Careful” he warns low in her ear, “I don’t think you understand the situation right now”

“You need to get off me. Now” she tries to push her hips away from him, but at her blatant refusal, he only pushes himself closer to her, moaning softly at the friction against him and the warmth of her even with her scrubs separating them.

He resists the urge to outright laugh, and scoffs instead, “You are in no position to make demands to me. I see right through you…you want me”

She only grunts painfully in response, half-trying to tear her hand away. Not trusting herself to say anything. Ettore almost wants to laugh at how pathetically she’s trying to avoid showing how she really feels.

“How long has it been, hm?” he says, more like a growl than anything, as his hand dips beneath the waistband of her scrubs, “Since someone touched you here”

She doesn’t reply, half fighting and half giving in. But then his hand cups her clothed sex, only covered by her thin underwear and she feels his large palm rub against her, her clit throbbing with desire at not having been touched in so long. God it had been so long. His fingers tease her entrance, rubbing in circles, coaxing some slick from her.

“A while, huh?” he smirks.

“Stop it, we’ll get in trouble” she says, but it comes out a whisper, not able to hide the way his hand against her most intimate area is having such an effect on her. The heel of his palm rubs against her bundle of nerves, making her blood feel like fire in her veins, arousal pooling in her belly.

“You think I give a fuck?” he retorts, grinning, “I would have a thousand punishments if I meant I could shove my cock in your tight little hole”

“You wouldn’t”

He does laugh at that, “You wanna bet?”

Her body briefly goes rigid, trying to hold back a genuine moan when his hand dips past her underwear, and Ettore groans at the feeling of her warm, wet pussy, coating his fingers with her slick. Her eyes break closed, mouth taut into a thin line to hold in her whine, body slightly trembling at how hard she is trying to hold back.

“You talk all this shit and you’re fucking soaked for me” he grins against her ear, “is this what was under that uniform…while you were prodding and poking me?”

She gasps, her lips opening in a hurried breath as his digit sinks into her, teasing her soft, spongy walls with the calloused pads of his fingertips. She doesn’t answer him. Can’t. She can just feel herself getting warmer. It’s undeniable, the effect he has on her. And she’s not sure if she’d be wise to submit to it. 

But it’s getting harder and harder by the second not to.

“Oh, you’re filthy” he says, inserting another finger, stretching her pussy with them, softly but harshly pushing inside “getting off on taking my blood, fucking slut”

At both his words and motions, she lets out a soft and quiet moan, a pressure inside her building the more she feels his fingers caressing her warm, wet walls.

Ettore tugs down his sweatpants, freeing his cock which sits hot and heavy against the curve of her ass, the tip flushed and stood to attention against his stomach. He gives himself a few pumps, pushing forward to let her feel him. He doesn’t even bother to begin the tryst with kissing. He’s not like that.

It’s much too soft and intimate a gesture, compared to what he plans to do with her.

She turns her head, now just quietly moaning at the pleasure his fingers give her, eyes half open and a hedonistic expression on her face. She sees him pull his shirt up his chest, and then looks down, to see what exactly is pushing hard against her backside.

Before she has any time to react, his hand is curled around her nape, pushing her head flush against the table in front of her, sending the samples scattering to the floor. 

"Stop it!" She protests, trying to wiggle helplessly out his grasp, "I'll scream"

She sees him smirk, looking down at her with a half lidded lust filled gaze.

"Do it then, makes it more interesting" he shows his teeth, tugging down her scrubs song with her underwear. Now with her body flush against the table and stuck, both his hands knead the globes of her ass, his fingers leaving pink marks in their wake. He takes fistfuls, spreading them to have a proper look at her glistening pussy, just waiting for him. She whimpers at the pleasured pain it emits when his fingers hold her apart, only to turn into a surprised gasp as he kicks her ankles apart.

“Someone could walk in!” she whisper-shouts, holding her hand to her mouth to muffle any sounds when he runs the tip of his cock over her soaked folds, slapping it against her clit and smiling at her reaction.

“Let them watch then, they can see how much of a mess I’ll make of you” he purrs leaning down to press his chest against her back, “None of that either” he pulls her hand from her mouth, “I want to hear how desperate you are for me”

With her cheek flush against the table, she had to only move her eyes to look at him. Glazed over with the pupil blown wide, it betrays just how much she may or may not want it, she still doesn’t want to show him. She’s almost annoyed at his cockiness, until she feels just how big he is, teasing her ever so slightly at her entrance.

“Now let’s see what pretty noises you can make for me, hm?”

He pushes against her, parting her folds, pulling her hips towards him to sink as much inside her as he can. His heart beats faster as he feels her pussy choke him tightly, every single ridge feels like fucking magic against his cock, he feels like just finishing inside her right there. She chokes a moan, his curved member rubbing up inside her at all the right angles the further inside he goes, until he kisses the end of her with the tip, reaching places she could never with her own fingers in the Box. Her back arches slightly as he bottoms out inside her, his fingers so tight on her hips they will definitely be bruised tomorrow.

He doesn’t give her time to adjust, not even a second, as he pulls all the way out, his length covered in her slick and slams back inside with a wet smack, watching how the flesh of her ass ripples when his hips meet it.

“Oh you’re bad…” he purrs, setting a brutally quick pace. Her eyes softly shut, her front rubbing almost painfully against the stainless steel table with each hard thrust.

“Gonna have you on every fucking flat surface in this ship” he breathes, his voice hurried from the effort and how she tightens around him at his words, “you’d like that wouldn’t you….everyone watching how much of a slut you are”

She yelps out in a pained moan when he slaps her ass, gripping it after to emphasise the burn, “Answer me”

“Yes-yes…” she manages through hurried breaths, trying to control her volume but rapidly failing.

Every time he fucks into, the sheer thickness of him pushes the air out of her lungs every time, her walls stretching against him to accommodate. Ettore smirks down at the view. She lets out between a sob and a moan when she feels his spit on her puckered hole, his thumb rubbing circles against it and spreading his saliva over her sensitive skin.

It feels so right and wrong at the same time. And when he pushes a thumb inside, only making her feel more full than she already does, she can't help but buck her ass against him, wanting more friction, pleasured tears falling down her cheeks. It really had been a while since she last had sex, obviously. But nobody had been this forward and rough with her before.

“See? I know you like this…knew you wanted to fuck me the second you saw me” he mocks, giving one hard, deep thrust inside which has her squirming against him with a desperate whine, his thumb sank all the way inside her ass, the movement of their fucking aiding in stimulating that as well.

He thinks, one day he'll claim that hole of hers as well.

But not today.

He pulls out quickly and instantly tugs at her hair, turning her over so that he can see her face. She’s sat weakly up on the counter, thighs held apart for him by one of his hands. Poor thing looks tired out, he thinks, looking at her watery eyes and flushed cheeks, her head lolling back against the counters with a thud.

“Are you fucking crying?” he grins, softly slapping her cheek and grabbing her face so she looks at him, “really has been a while, huh? That’s a bit pathetic”

He practically rips the shirt off her, not even bothering to take the bra underneath off and just tugs it to the side, freeing her breasts. He groans at the sight, perky, rosy and stood to attention in the now hot office, smelling of pure, unadulterated sex. They fill his palms perfectly, and he tugs at them with his fingers, revelling in the low, chesty mewl she lets out.

It’s no effort at all the way his cock just slides into her again, slowly. Too slowly.

She feels the curve of his cock, different in this new position, every vein and ridge. His thickness splits her open until he hits the end of her, pounding mercilessly into her, making the cupboards jolt in place with each snap of his hips against her thighs, which he is keeping in his palms wide apart. Ettore grins down, watching at the way his cock disappears into her over and over, at the ripple of her soft, soft skin each time.

She arches her back against him, warm, pleasured tears pricking at her eyes the closer she gets to that tight, hot pressure in her tummy bursting. He laughs as she clenches noticeably around him,

“What is it, hm?” he sneers, “or have I fucked you stupid?”

Her moans are so desperate she really does look pathetic, “fuck…I’m gonna-”

“You gonna cum for me?” he taunts with a wide smirk, all of this just doing wonders for his ego, “now, why would I let you do that?”

“...ne-need it…”

He never lets up his pace as once hand curls into her neck, tugging her forward so that her eyes are solely on him. She moans softly at the rough action.

Pathetic.

“You gonna be a good girl and be quiet?”

She nods as best she can, his hand tightening only slightly around her neck, trying to will her voice to come out between the deafening smacks of their fucking.

“Yes..”

“Say please, then”

“Please-I need it” she begs in a horse voice.

He shoves her back roughly, smacking her head against the cupboards, watching her tits as they bounce. Truthfully, he can feel himself getting close as well, but more than anything he wants to watch her come undone on his cock. Show her just how much fun she could have with him if she just let herself.

Her cheeks are pink and her chest is dotted with warmth as the air in the office is hot and thick, even more so at the pleasurable lack of oxygen his hand around her neck gives. It makes it harder for those strained moans to pass her lips.

Every drag through her hot, ridged core sends sparks of pleasure through him, crawling up his spine. 

You first.

She sucks in a breath when he lets go of her neck, allowing his thumb into her mouth. She sucks on the digit greedily, using her tongue to coat it with saliva. Ettore almost moans at just the sight of her.

He'll have that mouth too, he thinks.

A string breaks between her mouth and her thumb as he presses it suddenly against her clit, hard. She gasps at the painful pleasure of his rough actions, swirling his thumb over her bud to bring her to that precipice first.

Her hands grip his shoulders, but he quickly tears them off him, "I didn't say you could touch me" he snarls in between devastating thrusts, drawing figures of eight on her clit and watching as she squirms.

Her hands brace the counter either side of her legs, needing something to hold onto, "...m sorry…"

"You will be fucking sorry. Stupid bitch" 

If it's possible, he moves himself into her faster, bullying that rough patch inside her with such severity that her eyebrows furrow together, her mouth open in a silent scream. She contracts around him at the combined pleasure of his cock and his stimulation to her bud, knuckles going white at her grip on the counter.

"Such a perfect pussy…never fucking using that Box again…not when I have this…" he breathes pressing his body against hers so they are flush, his nose running up the side of her neck.

"Ettore, please…"

It's not really a request, just something that passes her lips. And he knows the second he feels her clench so tightly that she's done for, when her back arches towards him and her body goes rigid for a split second.

Her teeth sink into his skin at his shoulder, muffling the scream of pleasure that threatens to escape. He knows that will be there for days and it will most definitely hurt in the morning.

A gush of arousal soaks his cock and he continues to pound into her through it, pressing his thumb into her clit, extending her little death into a devastating abyss of warmth and rapture. Her walls quiver with overstimulation around him, and he can feel the wetness of her tears on his shoulder, her desperate whines.

"Fuck-shit" Ettore pushes inside once more, hard, with a barely stifled groan, huffing a pleasured laugh at the feeling of stuffing her with his cum and the warmth that surrounds him.

He wants to stay like that forever, keeping his cum inside her with his cock. Her thighs shake slightly, and he delights in the fact that she might not be able to walk afterwards. To remind her who she belongs to, now that he's claimed her.

He calms his hurried breathing just enough to pull his rapidly softening cock from her, earning a low whine from her once she pulls her teeth from him. Her tits move slowly with her breathing, thighs still shaking ever so slightly and parted to give him a good view of the mess he's made of her.

Her arousal combined with the cum that's leaking out of her activates a primal part of his brain and he's tempted to fuck her brains out again, but knows he wouldn't be able to.

Another time.

"Look at my filthy little doctor" 

He pulls her thighs close to him, teetering on the edge of the table, and all she's able to do is make a sound of surprise, eyes widening as he sinks to his knees between her legs.

"No-no, Ettore-" she protests quickly. Her hands going back to bracing the counter tightly when she feels his warm, wet muscle lapping against her soaked folds, a combination of her climax and his swirling over his tongue with such lewdness it makes her flush bright red.

After such a recent and all-consuming orgasm, she flinches when his tongue swirls over her clit, the vibrations of his low moans against it feels much too overwhelming now.

"Please-too much-"

He runs his tongue flat over her core, groaning at the combined taste of them and lapping up whatever leaks out of her. He could spend fucking days between her legs if she tastes like this all the time. Her arousal is so sweet and tart, musky when combined with his. Mixed with his cum, he thinks, she's made to be fucked by him. Made to be filled.

Fucking her with his tongue through her fluttering walls, her hand cards through his hair, tugging. To push him away or to bring him closer, she's torn between the two. The warmth of his mouth against her is just too tempting to want him to stop and when he moves his face side to side, his sharp nose nuzzling against her already over-used clit…

"Fuck! Please-"

The orgasm that rocks through her body blazes every nerve in its path, all the way down to the way his tongue is still lapping and sucking her juices, as if she's the best thing he's tasted since boarding this hellscape of a ship. He takes every bit of essence, sighing and moaning, with a grip so iron on her thighs, she can't move even if she wanted to.

Ettore rises to his feet, giving one more flattened lap over her core, sucking at her clit, which makes her twitch. Her glazed over, wettened eyes meet his, the blue almost entirely encompassed by black. He looks like an animal who's just tasted blood again after a long time of being caged. She doesn't entirely know why, but it makes her throb with desire, and it frightens even her to know that such a dangerous man, a criminal no less, is making her feel this way.

It makes her think, is she any better for enjoying it as much as she did.

He looks down at her, almost entirely bared to him, his reddened marks blossoming over her skin in early bruises. Her fucked-out face, a mix of lust and confusion, with that tell-tale pink to her cheeks.

A dangerous grin widens across his face.

"I meant it you know…" he says, dark and low, "...I'm not using that fucking Box ever again"

General Taglist: @risefallrise @valeskafics

Ettore Taglist:

*Let me know if you want to be added to any taglist! Bold means I couldn’t tag, if I can't tag you you can always turn on notifications for when I post. DM me if you wanna be removed besties

[sludgewolf]

Horror Night

Rodrick Heffley x Reader

Warning: foul language, may be ooc

Disclaimer: do not copy, repost, take or feed to AI or NFTs anything I post

Masterlist

This was his idea, he wanted to act as your knight in shinny armour when you got scared by the movie

He takes you to his room and slam the door on Greg's face when he wanted to come along

Rodrick isnt a scared cat but also not a stone faced bitch

but between you two he's the one jumping up at any jumpscare

he tells you he really undertestimated how scary some of the movies you picked are

Rodrick laughed so hard when Jason threw the teen around in the sleeping bag like a sack of potatoes in the second movie

he will try to be smooth and have his arm casually drapped over your shoulder, even if you're taller, and as the night progresses it transitions into a full on hug

he shoves his face on the crock of your neck and squeezes you whenever he gets scared

You make fun of the way the characters run from the monster, specially that girl in the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre that ran too slow while being chased by Bubba

You end up falling asleep somewhere between the Halloween bad sequels and the reboot

You wake up to Rodrick drooling on his pillow while still keeping an arm around you

[fanficsforheartandsoul]

A Wolf’s Heart | [Deglan x M!Reader] | The Witcher | Part VI

Notes: Fate is a bitch and I’m loving it~ No Deglan again but hey we’re coming closer to the ending and he will show up again xD This is part 6 :)

Fandom: The Witcher

Warnings: Mentions of Blood, Swearing, Depression, Angst, Slight OOC, Non-Canon Story, Century Typical Homophobia, Internalized Homophobia, Spiraling, Injuries, Self-Concious Reader, Misunderstandings, Alcohol Abuse, Mentions of Addiction

Summary: Y/N ends up back in Vengerberg for another winter but not out of his own volition. He’s a miserable bastard but after some advice he knows what he has to do. 

Word Count: 4,203

Taglist: @thatsequoia​

If you want to be tagged in my stories send me a pm with the fandom/character name! Or comment on the fic :)

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VII, Part VIII

Masterlist

Please note that The Witcher is supposed to be around the Middle-Age. Homophobia existed and is addressed in this story, if you potentially get triggered please do not continue to read!

There was one thing that Fenri hadn’t considered. That his friends and Deglan didn’t consider.

Yes, Y/N was hiding the truth from them in the letter he sent but he did not lie when he had told the blond witcher that he would return in the winter.

He wanted to return.

It was just that fate could be a real fucking bitch.

Which was why three weeks before the first snow fell, a certain h/c haired witcher was lying in a ditch on one of the forest paths at the edge of the Mahakam mountains with a bleeding head injury, his right eye barely left unscathed by huge claw marks while his ear was missing a junk of skin and his left thigh had a gaping tear in it. 

The grass around him was soaked in his blood.

Had it not been for Lisica’s distressed calls that alarmed a nearby merchant who recognized his armour and the blue neckcloth from his last year’s stay in Vengerberg, he probably would have bled out and died next to the corpse of the monster he had barely managed to slay after the surprise attack.

Thankfully he didn’t end up dead.

He sure felt like it though.

It took a while for his vision to adjust, his body was still weak due to the fever that had tormented him the last few days and whoever was taking care of him had yet to take off the bandages over the right side of his face.

He stared at the familiar wooden ceiling and watched how the small light of a candle flickered across the wood grain. He knew that pattern intimately and he was relieved.

He was in Vengerberg. Somehow he ended up making it to the tavern from his last year’s stay.

Slowly he lifted his right hand - it surprised him how weak he felt - and carefully touched the bandage over his eye and head. It itched terribly and he could feel his pulse through the fabric. It felt hot.

Gripping his teeth he sat upright, his bruised torso complained with spikes of pain and he felt dizzy. He didn’t have time to bitch and whine though and he scanned the room with his left eye for his belongings.

The room was similar to how he remembered it, there was a stool missing though and on the small wooden nightstand next to the bed was a basin with soaked linen dressings and a couple of herbs he could identify as Celandine and Ribleaf.

He was sure that those herbs belonged to him. Which meant that he didn’t lose his belongings when he got rescued.

Relieved he spotted his saddlebags in the corner on a wooden table.

The witcher pushed himself off the bed and almost crumbled right then and there, his left leg couldn’t support his weight and he had to sit back down again, squeezing out a pained moan between his teeth.

Taking deep breaths, he tried again, this time trying to maintain his weight on his right leg and he quickly hobbled across the room to his saddle bags. He heavily leaned on the table while he waited for the sudden dizziness to pass.

Then he grabbed his saddlebags and searched them for his potions. He was slow, annoyingly slow.

Suspicions began to rise when he pulled out the letters of his friends and the papers of the envelopes were discoloured and held a distinct herbal smell.

“Don’t tell me...”, he mumbled and sniffed the envelopes.

His other letters - the ones addressing Deglan were discoloured as well and when he finally felt the wood of his small potion chest, he had a bad premonition.

He pulled the chest out of the bag and some liquid dripped on his hand.

No, please...

Y/N placed the chest on the table with shaking hands and opened it.

When he saw the glass remains of his potion vials and the damp herbs he had to close his eye for a second and breathe. His hands formed fists on the table.

Those potions were of great importance for witchers and not easily obtained much less brewed. Before his departure on the Path, he had spent months brewing the contents of these vials and when he had left, he regularly took hours of his days to collect more herbs and ingredients for it.

Losing them was not only incredibly frustrating but also dangerous for his future endeavours. Their loss would force him to take on smaller requests which in turn would mean that he had less money to acquire rare ingredients from a herbalist.

Trying to calm himself he opened his eye again to inspect the damage further.

Most vials were shattered and their liquid remains were gathered at the bottom of each half of the chest in a dark puddle.

His Swallow potions gone, his Cat potions gone. His Golden Oriole, his Blizzard, his Black Blood, his Thunderbolt, his White Raffard’s decoction, all of their vials, broken.

There was one glimpse of hope though in this tragedy. One vial of the potion he was looking for remained intact. It was only a small comfort but for the moment it had to be enough.

Carefully, he felt the bandage around his head and began to unwrap it. It took a long time.

The exhausted witcher hissed alarmed - but not in pain - when the fabric stuck to his skin and he slowly tore it off. The air felt good on the skin and he discarded the bloody bandage on the table. His arm muscles quivered from exhaustion.

By now he had realized that the right side of his face was so swollen that he couldn’t see even without the bandage and it worried him greatly. Had he lost sight in his right eye? He had to check.

He didn’t touch the skin though.

Instead, he sifted through his bags once more to find the small broken shard of a mirror he had used before to stitch his wounds. He unwrapped the damp cloth that protected him from the sharp edges of the shard and then he examined his face in it. Y/N sucked in some air through his teeth.

The forktail’s razor-sharp claws got him right across the bridge of his nose and forehead, missing his right eye by less than an inch and the slash from the monster’s left claw breached his hairline and ended at the upper back of his head.

The slash of the forktail’s middle claw reached from his right cheekbone across his ear to the back of his head and some flesh of his ear was missing due to it.

At least the fourth one missed, he thought sarcastically but the ugliness of the future scars and the meaning of these wounds left a bitter taste in his mouth.

During the last moments of his hunt, he had been careless. He was already drunk from apparent victory and it ended up costing him.

With a mug like that no one - really no one - would look him eye anymore... And it was uncertain if he could look back at all with his right eye.

Not if the infection of the claw wounds spread.

The wounds hadn’t been stitched, most likely due to the inexperience of treating a mutant - and his flesh ended up getting infected - most likely due to him lying in the dirt for so long - and if he wouldn’t act fast, the skin would rot.

Breathing through his nose, he grabbed one of the only intact vials from its compartment and opened it. The black liquid seemed ominous and the pain he could expect in a few seconds made him grit his teeth in preparation.

He hoped his eye was swollen enough that the potion wouldn’t reach it, he had never accidentally poured this elixir into his eyes before so he had no knowledge of any side effects.

He slowly tilted his head backwards, then poured the potion directly onto his face and the tavern owner Iven entered the room right when he howled in agony and fell unconscious.

-

"And now they most likely think that I am lying. I messed up and I am too scared to explain the truth."

Y/N took a big gulp from his jug of ale and then slammed it on the bar with a deep sigh, spilling a few drops of his drink.

It had been three weeks now since he “almost killed himself” according to the druid who had treated him.

He, of course, saw that differently.

Had he not used that elixir that day, he would have probably ended up losing his eyesight and would have been forced to spend the rest of his days as at most an instructor at the school of the Wolf or more likely a beggar.

But now he “only” had to walk around with a shitface. The right side of his face looked like a plowed field - a real improvement from the white scars he had gained in his youth.

The skin was still red but it healed considerably well, thanks to his mutated body and the antiseptic elixir he used.

Unfortunately, though, his accelerated healing abilities didn’t help to grow back the hair he was missing. The forktail had made sure to mess up his magnificent hair before dying.

He chuckled humourlessly.

This kind of dark humour was his only comfort - apart from the ale, of course. Which he really needed, especially now after he had just sent a letter to Kaer Morhen for Fenri and his friends in which he basically told them that he was not coming home.

He knew how it would look to them.

As if he had lied to Fenri. Not once but twice. The blond man would interpret it as if Y/N had lied to his face and then in the letter he sent. As if he lied to all of his friends. To them, he would be a deceitful bastard and this guilt ached worse than his wounds.

Maybe he could have solved this if he mentioned his injuries in his letter but he doubted it would seem like the truth. Not after he had mentioned getting injured in the first year to his rival. There was also his reputation. They probably couldn’t believe that he got injured so heavily, he was notorious for his skills back in his training years.

But they didn’t know how much he changed. Y/N didn’t want to admit it but in the last two years he had developed an addiction to alcohol. 

He drank almost every day and it wasn’t just one mead. He drank excessively and the money he made was spent on more wine and alcohol. 

Due to his fast metabolism he wasn’t drunk for long and he had to drink many bottles to truly feel the buzz of alcohol and so he grabbed a bottle more often than any other drunkard. 

During that day when he was got attacked he felt the withdrawal symptoms. He had been restless and plagued with migraines and his hand itched for some ale but he didn’t have any on him. He had checked two times already and during the third time the forktail descended on him.

If his friends knew that he let a monster sneak up on him, him who had better hearing than any of them, because he was looking for alcohol like a booze hound, they would probably shake their head in disbelief and disappointment.

He couldn’t tell them.

So he just had to deal with their anger. Not that he was in the mood for it. The fact that he possibly had ruined their friendship was a sour truth to swallow.

Y/N cleaned his sticky hand with the hem of his shirt and let his gaze linger on the many scars and blisters that covered his skin.

Not exactly a beauty are we, he thought bitterly. Getting uglier by the day...

The bard sitting next to him hummed.

Hannes had arrived in the city two weeks ago and was shocked when he first laid eyes on the witcher’s mauled appearance. He rested in the tavern in the room next to Y/N’s and spent most of his free time at the witcher’s side and made sure he was eating and healing well.

They did not talk much during that time because moving his jaw stretched the forming scabs and so he had yet to tell Hannes anything about the events that led to his injuries.

When he finally did, the bard exhaled loudly and needed a moment before he could formulate his thoughts.

It appeared like now was the same.

Y/N lifted his hand to wink at the tavern owner's daughter for another beer when Hannes finally spoke:

"I don’t think you messed up that badly. And there is no shame in being afraid."

He lowered his hand and turned his head to the left, the bard smiled assuringly and the witcher grimaced.

A thought crossed the witcher’s mind and he sighed when an image of Deglan appeared in his head.

The days before he encountered the forktail on the Path he had been feeling anxious about the upcoming inevitable meeting with his mentor. His chest had hurt when thinking about Deglan’s face.

How would he react when seeing him again?

He had yet to ceremonially take off the blue cloth around his neck - as he promised himself - and he was even wearing it now - after washing it and cleaning it of his own blood. The fabric was a shade darker now, unfortunately.

His eyes left the cloth at his throat and wandered to the bard.

If only he could fall in love with Hannes. It would have made everything so much easier.

The musician was good-looking, with his black hair and storm grey eyes. The hint of a beard accentuated his cheekbones and his eyebrows gave him a witty appearance. Combined with his blue shirt and brown pants he looked charming. Y/N did find him attractive and his character certainly was endearing...

He sighed.

Why was his life such a mess?

Hannes' words replayed in his mind and he breathed in slowly.

The bard only touched upon the tip of the iceberg of his feelings and it stung to hear it. He was not only afraid of messing up his friendship with Fenri and the others. In truth, he was glad that he was unable to return to Kaer Morhen in the end. He was not yet ready to cross paths with Deglan again.

He slew monsters for a living, he had ventured into caves and forests no sane man wanted to enter and he had taken the lives of creatures that the common folk feared to death, and yet he turned miserable and weak-minded when it came to talking about his feelings and such dainty emotion as love?

Oh, the irony. He could almost hear whatever deity fucking played with his life cackle in the background.

Hannes tapped his shoulder and he focused his attention on him again.

"There is no shame in being afraid but sometimes you have to confront your fears. Often, that is the only way to let go of them."

"That is easily said", he replied gruffly but the words echoed in his mind.

If he wanted to let go...

Doubt swirled in his mind but Hannes was trustworthy when it came to his advice, he had learned that fairly quickly after the last winter. He simply was uncertain if he could overcome his cowardice.

The bard reassuringly squeezed his left shoulder.

"You are a great man, Y/N. You will know what is best for you when the time comes.”

He paused, something flitted across his face but before Y/N could try to decipher it, Hannes added: “Life holds a dozen of opportunities and as vast those opportunities are, words are the same. You just need some time to figure out the right ones.”

The bard let go of him and took a sip from his ale. He grinned over the jug’s edge and asked: “On another note, how are you faring with your letters?”

The witcher knew exactly what the black-haired man meant and he groaned defeatedly.

“They experienced an accident”, he retorted and remembered how he tried to save the many letters he wrote to Deglan.

However, in the end, both them and the letters of his friends were unreadable. The ink had smudged due to the elixirs and the lines were blurred.

He had mourned them wholeheartedly last week.

His expression was grave enough for Hannes to make a face. The bard turned thoughtful and for a while, they were quiet again.

Y/N studied the grain of the wooden table and absent-mindedly massaged his left thigh.

He had removed his bandages a few days ago but it still hurt sometimes, especially when he walked so he had yet to do anything physically challenging. All he did was sit around and lay on his bed. He couldn’t even visit the city, not that he really wanted to do that. In his heart, he had already resigned himself to wearing a cloak forever.

“You know...”, Hannes suddenly said and he turned his focus back to the bard, “As sudden and arbitrary love is, it can fade. You should not wither away because of it, I don’t want you to."

The witcher raised an eyebrow. Not only did he not expect that sudden change of topic...

"Should you say that as a bard with dozens of ballads about eternal love?"

Hannes shrugged his shoulders with a grin.

"Those kinds of songs make the most money."

Y/N gasped in false shock, deliberately ignoring the implication of that topic - his feelings for Deglan - and instead imitated a young maiden and the bard slapped his shoulder while they erupted in laughter.

The action felt liberating and his chest appeared a bit lighter. It had been a while since he had laughed like this.

An image of his friends flashed in his mind and his grin faltered. He coughed and took the last gulp from his drink.

Hannes downed his ale as well and then exhaled loudly in satisfaction.

Again they were silent, Hannes most likely because Y/N did not acknowledge his ways of trying to steer the conversation in the direction of the witcher’s feelings.

Y/N leaned back and crossed his arms and the bard cleared his throat and called out to the tavern owner. The man, an older fellow of short stature named Iven, limped towards them and leaned on the bar to hear what the bard had to say.

"Iven, I wanted to inform you that I will not come back next year. And probably the year after, so you should find another entertainer during the winter."

Y/N tilted his head, wondering about the bard's absence, while the other man crossed his arms before his chest and jokingly said:

"Fucking finally, aye. Your horrible singing kept all my guests away!"

"Ha, we both know that’s untrue!"

Hannes exchanged verbal blows with Iven and laughed, but he stopped when he saw the thoughtful expression on the witcher's face and then leaned towards him to explain:

"I will be settling down in Skellige."

"Skellige?", asked both Y/N and the tavern owner with surprised faces.

"Yes", Hannes was smiling to himself as he leaned back in his seat, "I decided that I have seen enough of the world."

Iven clicked his tongue.

"You found a lass?" He spoke in a matter-of-fact tone and Y/N and Hannes followed the man's forlorn eyes across the room where his daughter was talking to some of the regular guests.

They exchanged a look and Hannes grinned.

"Well, something like that. Anyway... Can I have another beer for me and Y/N?"

"No", Iven gruffly replied but he took their jugs anyways and turned around to prepare their drinks.

Y/N watched the bard carefully. He was settling down...? Don’t tell me...

"Something like a lass...?", he asked quietly, and his thoughts began to race because what if...

A pipe dream floated in his mind and the image of two men, both yellow-eyed and showing signs of ageing, one with fewer white streaks of hair, the other with more wrinkles, standing before a small house looking happy and in love made his heartbeat speed up.

Growling inwardly he banned the thought from his mind.

Hannes gave him a side glance and smiled weakly. But his eyes showed an emotion Y/N could only describe as longing.

"It’s not what you’re thinking", the bard replied and he thanked Iven with a nod as the man slammed two beers on the bar counter in front of them.

He waited for the black-haired man to continue and they both watched as the tavern owner went over to his daughter and his regulars.

"My mother sent me a letter. I haven’t heard from her in years but somehow she found out about my summer stay in Cidaris. I remained longer there than usual and her letter reached me through one of my benefactors. Her lover died. And she has fallen ill. She begged me to return "home" but you know what-"

Hannes stopped and took a big gulp from his jug. He snorted humourlessly and the witcher noticed the darkness in his grey eyes and frowned.

"Skellige is not my home. I grew up in a small village in Verden and years after I had left home to follow my dreams, I returned and all I found was a burnt-down house, a letter and my father's grave in the backyard. He died because of an unknown sickness and my mother took off and married an Islander just weeks after his passing. And now she wants me to care for her after that bastard passed away too. And I will do it because she gave me life and we share the same blood, even though we haven’t seen each other in years and she- she had cursed me when I left home."

Y/N stayed quiet.

He did not know what to say.

He grew up as an orphan and the only people he could vaguely see as his parents were the people of Kaer Morhen.

Familial bonds and blood never meant anything to him and he never tried to find out anything about his parents, unlike Fenri who had visited his family home once when he snuck out of the witcher's keep.

The blond boy had returned with dried tears on his cheeks and bitterness in his eyes and Y/N knew from that moment on that parents were not something he needed or wanted. That was at least what he told himself.

So he did not know how to respond to Hannes’ bitter words.

But he understood him. If Hannes’ mother cursed him because he was the way he was, he truly understood his bitterness. If his friends cursed him because of his feelings for Deglan, he was sure the agony would kill him.

"You should visit me."

The bard distracted him from his thoughts and the witcher awkwardly cleared his throat because he had not yet found the right words to cheer the man up.

So he grasped the line that the Hannes threw at him;

"Of course. I’ll visit you. I’ve never been to Skellige before... And I’m sure your mother will like a witcher's company", he jokingly added at the end.

Hannes laughed and shrugged his shoulders and then suddenly his storm grey eyes held a burning intensity as their eyes connected, Y/N could see every speck of blue in them, how the bard’s big pupils were taking him in and how the fire accentuated the other man’s face and made it glow. His throat went a little dry.

"I... for certain would enjoy your company", Hannes said after a while, his tone soft.

Y/N blinked. His not-so-sober brain helpfully translated those words for him and their implication. He bit his lip.

He watched the man next to him carefully and his words echoed in his mind.

You should not wither away because of it, I don’t want you to. And he remembered their first meeting.

Something rose in his chest, a mix of self-hatred and selfconsciousness. His mouth tasted bitter.

Hannes shouldn’t look at him like that. He wasn’t worth it.

Y/N breathed in and out before answering:

"Well, I will think about it. I have some other affairs I first have to attend after all..."

His chest tightened. Yeah... other affairs.

Hannes leaned back, his smile bright and content as he downed the rest of his ale and he sighed satisfied after the last gulp.

"I am looking forward to your decision."

Y/N did not know if he would ever reach that point because as far as he was concerned he was not even sure if he would live until that day.

He knew one thing.

He had to return to Kaer Morhen the next winter. Not only to fix his relationship with his friends but to finally take off his neckcloth, to let go.

And after that... Maybe he could finally find peace.

[mental-jhinstability]

So someone in the JhinThresh server asked me about High Noon again

In my last ramble I focused on general horseback headcanons for them... but now I'll focus on Scenarios I Have Imagined Them In But Will Never Write For I Am A Coward.

Everything below the cut. Contains some level of NSFW content but nothing explicit. Also a bit OOC, but not wildly I don't think.

I was (past tense) going to write about them in a very specific scenario, and I did write a bit of it but I will die of embarassment if I share it. As a bit of background, there's a certain type of clover that grows in horse pastures. When a horse eats this, they start slobbering. A LOT. It's not harmful at all to the horse, just very much a nuisance. Well, what if only one of the two knew about this, and the one who didn't worried excessively over it? In my little fic this was Jhin; who noticed his horse had it in the middle of the night (thus no vet available) and got VERY worried and soft. Lowkey forgot Thresh was there and just started kissing his horse and is on the verge of tears the whole time thinking his horse may be dying. Thresh knows what's happening, knows it's not harmful in the slightest, but he chooses not to tell Jhin. He rationalises this as intentionally tormenting him but we all know he's really just gay as fuck and he wishes Jhin was kissing him all soft like that. So he doesn't tell Jhin it's nothing to worry about. Instead he comforts Jhin (albeit in his own weird way). In my headcanon, Jhin likes going for night rides just as a relaxing thing. Thresh offers to take Jhin for a night ride on his horse. As per my last infodump, Thresh's horse is pretty tall. Thresh has to lift him on to his horse and they both get very very flustered over the fact that Thresh has to practically grab his ass and thigh to get him up there (nobody said Thresh would pick Jhin up correctly). ALSO as per my last ramble Thresh rides with only a neckrope. So now Jhin has to clutch on to Thresh for dear life as to not fall off, hugging him like you would squeeze a teddy bear type tight. And then when Jhin nearly falls off, Thresh stops and then puts him on his lap. And holds his waist with one hand and rides with the other. And Jhin has to deal with this. He's not doing very good with that. He's bitching to Thresh the whole time about how undignified this is, how *barbaric* he must be to ride without a saddle, etc. Thresh realises that he can just let go of Jhin at any time and he'd fall off... but he doesn't. Once again he rationalises this by thinking that he's the Most Evil Guy Ever but truly he just wants to hold a cute boy on his lap.

The fic was planned to have a comedic ending by having Jhin go to a saloon/bar, mentions the slobber thing upon being asked why he sounds so pissed, bartender mentions it's Normal Actually, end with Jhin unsure if he wants to make out with Thresh or kill him.

If I knew how to write smut I'd have made it end a little earlier with Something Else but as I mentioned I'm a coward.

Another scenario; just them being as domestic as they can be, but with Horses. Doing barn chores together. Needing one to help the other on to their horse (with way more touching than is necessary.) Unconscious posture corrections, holding the other's hand to move it to the right spot, adjusting each finger. Thresh being overprotective because we all know Jhin is probably NOT wearing a helmet under that god damned hat so he's just... kind of clingy, but in his own bastard almost tsundere way (If you died of a brain injury, who would I have to torment?). Sexual tension MAXIMUM.

I've also thought plenty about other characters that aren't in High Noon but I want them to be. High Noon Jax as the aforementioned total weirdo bartender who sees Jhin crushing on Thresh and nearly has to kick both of their asses with the lamp to get them to talk to each other (Jax can have even more plot armour. As a treat.) Bonus if he lowkey adopts Jhin--personal headcanon that Jhin is a bit desperate for a father figure so he unintentionally latches on to Jax here--and ends up only threatening to kick Thresh's ass. Or actually kicking it, and Jhin helps take care of him afterward.

High Noon Mordekaiser doesn’t count in the previous but PLEASE imagine him teasing the living hell out of Thresh for his little crush. Asshole older brother energy. I know it’s a bit OOC but I don’t care I will do whatever I want with them fuck you Riot. Him laughing at Thresh and talking about how he’s horny for a mere mortal and how he’s too cowardly to do anything about the crush and Thresh yelling at him all flustered about how no he’s not he just wants to torture him… It’s not important the torture involves holding him on his lap and calling him cute. Not at all. Mordekaiser I don’t think would wingman like Jax would but he would tease Thresh even AFTER they got together. Bonus points if Jhin finds this hilarious and teases Thresh really hard about whatever Morde’s teasing him about this week until Thresh “punishes” him wink wink.

Also, Jhin falling asleep taking care of his horse. I’ve done it, so this is just massive projection probably, but let me be self indulgent. Thresh having to carry him to a safe spot (so he’s not sleeping standing up leaning against a very much sentient being that could kill him) and Jhin half-awake kissing Thresh’s chest thinking it’s his horse. Probably wakes up right as Thresh sets him down because the warmth is gone. And then he’s upset. He doesn’t know why he’s upset. He thinks he still hates this man. So does Thresh, actually. But once again it’s just them being gay as hell and denying it.

Thanks for coming to my OOC Ted Talk. I'm so sorry

[vicrvs]

                                                  *          𝐓𝐀𝐆   𝐃𝐑𝐎𝐏   𝐈   !

[bladeofloyalty-blog]

𝕋𝔸𝔾𝕊 𝔻𝕌𝕄ℙ.

[yuzurins]

hii !!! i read ur suna oneshot and i was in awe with the way you write 🥰 may i req the msby boys reacting to you getting scared from a horror movie?? thank u and have a nice day!!

how the msby boys would react to you getting scared during a movie

hello and thank you!! o/

this is my first time doing a request but ur prompt seems interesting so i’ll try my best :D sorry if it might be ooc, this is my pov of them!

also, these will only be headcanons (mini scenarios?) i would've definitely done full scenarios if i felt a bit more creative but writers block HAHA

↬ bokuto, atsumu, sakusa, hinata ღ

—bokuto

↝ tbh, he would probably get scared with you too

↝ tries to comfort you but end up being the one having to get comforted

↝ hugs you like a stuffed animal because he doesn't want to die

↝ almost suffocates you though because homie is scared to death

↝ you guys are both shaken up from the movie

"Y/N PLEASE I REALLY DON'T WANT TO DIE I WANT TO LIVE UNTIL IM 130 WAAAAAA"

"kOU CALM DOWN IM HERE WITH YOU IF WE GO DOWN THEN WE GO DOWN TOGETHER"

↝ i think you guys would have to call akaashi for this one... (ok i know its msby boys so its probably timeskip but we stan akaashi here so dont worry about it)

↝ being the good friend he is, he comes over for you two

"so what am i here for again?"

"MORAL SUPPORT 'KAASHI. MORAL SUPPORT."

↝ and by moral support, you mean another person to cling onto.

"you know, at this point, maybe we should just turn--"

"BUT ITS SO INTERESTING"

↝ and the same thing repeats for the rest of the movie..

↝ after it's finished, you guys have to watch some kids' show so you don't get nightmares.... like my little pony or barbie or something

↝ this event becomes a good topic in conversations for a good month. both the movie, and the way you two acted. :P

—atsumu

↝ acts like an actual child

↝ he would definitely tease you about it

↝ would be laughing his ass off until he gets scared by an unexpected jumpscare

↝ pretends to not be scared to act cool but he would end up squinting and looks away every 2 seconds to avoid seeing a scary part

"'HAH, 'TSUMU, WHAT WERE YOU SAYING AGAIN? KARMAS A BITCH"

"SHUT UP Y/N, I'M NOT A PUSSY LIKE YOU!"

"..." (he sticks his tongue out at you and you roll your eyes in response. you revert your gaze to the screen for a few seconds until.....)

"boo."

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"

↝ clings onto you like a koala from then on

↝ starts talking about the most randomest things to change the topic and to distract himself from the movie

"wow haha look at that cat its so cute i want a cat now hey y/n let's get a cATWEOARKJDHJKHSFDASFKJ WHAT IN THE WORLD IS HAPPENING TO THE CAT OH MY GOD"

↝ and he doesn't even watch the movie after that point because he is hiding his face in your shoulder

↝ movie nights with tsumu are very interesting◝(ᵔᵕᵔ)◜

—sakusa

↝ sakusa seems like the type of person to be able to keep a straight face during the most scariest movies and because of that, he likes to watch horror movies for fun

↝ heck, he might even start making fun of the movie because he just simply doesn't understand how it is scary. probably finds germs more scary.

↝ he will feel disgusted from all the gore though, that's for sure

↝ he would be lost on how to comfort you because he has never been in your situation before, but he'll always be there to give you a hug or a shoulder to hide behind (bad with words)

↝ won't force you to keep watching if you really don't want to

↝ he would definitely move his hand to cover your eyes right before a jumpscare happens to protect you

↝ he keeps an arm around your shoulder and his hold on you would get tighter if you showed any sign of fear

↝ omi would be your knight (not in shining armour though.. maybe like a bodyguard l o l) who isn't scared of anything u_u

—hinata

↝ hinata would care more about you than the movie

↝ would ask you to hide behind him so he can protect you from the monsters

↝ i feel like he would yell at the TV LOL

"don't worry y/n, i will protect you! stay back monster🤺 I SAID STAY BACK! 🤺 I'M NOT AFRAID OF YOU!!!!!"

↝ starts smiling after hearing you laugh

↝ also! cares! about! your! wellbeing! a lot! (cough manga cough)

↝ asks if you need water or a break or anything at all like ten times

"y/n, are you sure you're okay?"

"of course sho-chan! after all, i have you here to protect me if anything bad happens!"

↝ huge grin on his face!!!!!!!!!!! he feels happy to be able to be here for you :D

↝ TD;LR HINATA'S JUST TOO PRECIOUS >_<

[tumbling-darkling]

Midnight Hang-Outs

This is a small crossover between Danny Phantom and DC! (Specifically Danny and Harley Quinn!) Following the prompts from Day 11 and 12 - Midnight and Scars (more of mentioned than revolving around it) Harley might be slightly ooc because I don’t read a lot of DC comics but maybe consider it more of like AU Harley Quinn. Mother hen. She feeds the vigilantes of Gotham on slow nights.

Harley glanced over to the boy sitting next to her on the rooftop of the Gotham Bank, she had been planning to break into it to draw out some fun with any nearby vigilantes but instead she had spotted the scrawniest looking glowing teen she’d ever seen. Well he was the only glowing teen she’d ever seen, but the poor kid was struggling against some freak in a white suit.

He had already devoured about 10 of the breakfast sandwiches she bought from a nearby 24 hour fast food joint, she couldn’t remember the name but her pal, Jeremy, always worked late shifts and gave her most of the grease filled wraps for free. Which she got a total of 20 and was beginning to worry that it wasn’t enough for this endless void. She thought she could calculate this kind of thing better based on Batsy’s kids, then again none of them had powers. That must be the factor throwing her off.

She glanced over him again, taking in his features for probably the hundredth time since she spotted him. White hair that gently wisped around his face like he was constantly underwater, pale blue-green skin with neon green freckles that sparkled like stars in the night, toxic green eyes that matched the freckles, flecks of blue hidden within the irises that shone in the right light. He hand pointed ears and little baby fangs, and his suit itself reminded her of the superheroes she’s faced before, but the material seemed all wrong when she got a closer look. It wasn’t spandex, or that thick armour like fibre that Batsy likes to use. She didn’t know what it was made out of. That flaming looking D was enough to hint at a superhero gig, like Superman and that ‘S’ on his chest. She didn’t care that it was supposed to be a symbol for hope, his name was Superman and that thing was an S, end of conversation.

The kid had taken off those gloves in order to eat, she didn’t blame him though, eating with gloves on was weird, and those white gloves would stain like a motherfucker. What caught her attention about it was the scars. Little one littered this kid's hands, and then there was a ligament scar coating his left hand. It was the brightest of all the scars, glowing slightly a wicked green as if he was still being electrocuted.

She turned her gaze back to the streets below, “So, what are you doing out this late?” She asked, avoiding sensitive topics like the scar. “It has to be way past midnight at this point.”

The kid glanced over to her, then shrugged, “had to chase Boxy all the way out here, the dude flies fast for a ghost obsessed in boxes.”

Harley glanced back over, noticing the kid now had finished the last of the sandwiches as he looked in the bag for more, shoving the garbage into it once he confirmed there was nothing left, “Boxy? Was that the freak in white?”

The kid shook his head, “nah, that was a government agent. G.I.W, or the Guys in White. Must’ve followed me, cornered me after I was already exhausted from chasing Boxy all over town. Boxy is the Box Ghost, blue ghost dude in overalls, fairly harmless but he can be a pain in the ass when he wants to be.”

“Want me to blow the rest of those agents up for you?” Harley asked, leaning closer while flashing a sinister grin.

The kid jerked back, “no! No it’s fine, just caught me off guard! I can handle them just fine, you don’t need to blow anyone up!” He squeaked out quickly, wildly waving his hands around. Harley couldn’t help but grin at the display, he reminded her a lot of Batsy’s kids. Energetic, good hearts (most of the time), think they can handle the world.

“So are you one of Batsy’s kids? Harley voiced her thoughts.

The kid blinked owlishly at her, “Batsy’s… you mean Batman? The Batman?”

Harley shrugged, “yeah, Batsy. He has quite a lot of them so I like to try and stay updated when he gets a new kid. You almost fit the bill, young teen, dark past, though the powers would be new.”

“How do you know I have a dark past?”

“Well, you said you were a ghost, right? Meaning you died and judging by your age, died before you even finished high school. I’d call that a dark past,” she kept out the lingering question of how he died, that wasn’t something you exactly ask someone when you first meet them. “So you aren’t one of Batsy’s kids?”

The kid shook his head, “nope,” he popped the p, “never even met the dark knight before. I barely visit Gotham, well anywhere if I can help it, I try to keep my problems in my home turf.”

“I see, you know what, I should’ve known better. Batsy would never let his kids run around this late anyway,” she hummed. “I did once see him chew a Robin out for fighting crime past his curfew, it got me arrested for sticking around to watch but boy was it worth it!” She laughed. She was surprised that Batman hadn’t gotten to this kid yet, anyhow. He didn’t always stick around Gotham ever since he joined that hero club, but that just meant that this dude had even more of a chance to find this kid. Must be dumb luck or something.

“Batman puts curfews on his sidekicks?” The kid asked, mouth agape.

“Well duh, the guy is all about the well-being of his kids. He has a no killing rule but he gets close to breaking it when one of his kids gets almost killed. He keeps them well fed, makes sure they sleep, I know because I can hear him from across rooftops at times and I fight enough of his kids to notice they aren’t skin and bones like you.”

The kid looked down at his ungloved hands, and she noticed him tracing the pattern of the ligament scar lightly with his other hand. His expression changed as he seemed to run through a series of thoughts before he spoke again, “why did you help me?” He asked, not looking up to meet her eyes, “you are a villain, right? You fight Batman and Robin, and other superheroes too if they face you. You know I’m not a villain, you said so yourself. So why help me? Wouldn’t it be better to just let a vigilante kid get knocked off so you don’t have to deal with him in future crimes?”

Harley felt her heart shatter, who the fuck hurt this kid like this? “I’m not some heartless bitch,” she said in a matter of fact tone, “you and all the teen sidekicks or vigilantes out there are still fucking kids. I have morals, and some villains don’t have the same morals as me, but seeing you getting kicked around by some freak in an alley where no one could see you? That kind of shit rubs me the wrong way. I fight teen heroes from time to time because I know they can handle it, they can fight back and I myself won’t stoop so low as to kill them if I manage to get in a few lucky hits.” She lightly nudged his shoulder, “and it’s not like you’ve personally wronged me or anything. I felt like being nice, helping out. You seem like a good kid, so why not help you out? Maybe one day I can call a favour and you can distract Bats while I kidnap the president?” She joked.

The kid looked up suddenly, sending his hair in rippling waves as he was giving her a wide eyed and the most worried look imaginable. She couldn’t help but let out another laugh, “I’m joking!” She clarified. “But I think we could have some pretty interesting game nights with Ivy. Not illegal game night, more like Uno or something. Maybe just a little gambling.”

The kid relaxed again, “well… uh… thanks. For helping me. And the food. And talking,” he rubbed the back of his neck, looking up at the sky.

“No problem, be sure to come visit again. Hey, maybe I can even introduce you to Bats at some point! Make a big show and pretend you are a villain and then BAM! Just kidding he’s just a glowing vigilante I helped out once!” She stood up, stretching her arms a little, “be sure to take it easy on your way to your home by the way, maybe take a nap or something on the way there.”

The kid nodded with a smile and stood up with her, then paused as shock filled his eyes and he spun quickly towards Harley, “Wait- how do you know I sleep-?”

Harley laughed, “well, I don’t think ghosts normally eat, so I’m assuming you sleep too,” she offered a soft smile, “just take it easy, and hey, if you ever find yourself in trouble.” Harley then pulled out a business card she usually kept for shits and giggles, handing over the poorly designed card to the kid, “know that you have a friend in Gotham who’s ready to help. And who knows how to get Batsy’s attention the fastest.” She winked.

The kid took the card, a confused grin tugging at his lips, “thanks. Hey, uh. I go by Phantom. Since I never really introduced myself.”

“Well Phantom, nice to meet you,” Harley grinned back.

[hitchell-mope]

My unpopular opinions about fandom and entertainment

Armour should protect not be sexualised. This goes for both men and women

Canon > fanon except in the case of scrubs and the Star Wars sequels

Women being “weak” for being emotional and men being “whiny” for being emotional is a concept that needs to die

Villains need to be hated again

Strong women in a position of power ≠ lgbt character. At least not all the time

Man who’s more interested in cooking and is in tune with his emotions ≠ lgbt character. At least not all the time

As long as the current CEO’s are still in power we’re not getting canon lgbt content in things like Disney animated movies to the degree that most fandoms want

I’m not very fond of the “superpowers/magic/fantasy race used as a thinly veiled sexism/racism/lgbt metaphor” trope.

Let villains be unattractive in looks again as well as personality

Main characters need to be scrutinised less. Again this goes for both men and women

Rich hero who tries to do good however they can > rich villain who tries to kill everyone because they’re pissed they didn’t get their way

Tying into point 8. Stop having characters with magic or superpowers experimented on. It’s not cute. It’s disturbing

We need more G rated shows with main gay characters like Andi Mack and less of shows like riverdull and Netflix Sabrina

Token straights need to be a thing.

Not everything has romantic undertones. Especially if they’re two white men who hate each other

It’s not ooc for characters like Toph, Mako or Lin to be part of law enforcement. Especially when you know they’re histories

If the main straight pairing is between a white guy and a non white girl. Don’t disregard it and pair the guy up with another white guy (looking at you merlin fandom and kelvin timeline fandom)

Just because it’s not spoon fed to you doesn’t mean it’s a plot hole

A character being psycho and wearing less clothes then others isn’t a fitting substitute for a personality

The villain section of the Hayes code should definitely be brought back full force

Fictional women don’t need to be “saved” from healthy heterosexual relationships. Same goes for men in health heterosexual relationships

White guy who yells a lot ≠ attractive god like being. Especially if he’s the unequivocal villain

Older siblings are not responsible for their younger siblings if they have a perfectly functional parent who’s only problem is “head up their ass syndrome”

Older siblings just deserve better in general really

Fandom misandry is on the same level as fandom misogyny if not a little worse because people don’t think it exists unless a pairing comes into it

The “obnoxious whiny uses cuteness to get their way younger siblings” aren’t as cute as people think

Constant use of current slang words in an effort to be modern needs to stop. It leads to the work being incredibly dated in a very short amount of time

Half baked reasons to depower the rightfully overpowered protagonist for unnecessary drama are ridiculous when we all know if they had full access to said powers and had the proper training they’d wipe the floor with the problem (this applies to the worf effect and forgot about his powers tropes. Not things like kryptonite and other weaknesses)

Enemies to lovers is a nice trope, yes, but fans have twisted it into “villain hating and/or trying to kill protagonist = Shakespearean romance” which leads to really unhealthy dynamics. Essentially. Be like batcat and not like reylo

Fantasy shows shouldn’t be steeped in sex, nudity and rape to be taken seriously as adult worthy material.

Stop shipping women with men who want them dead

Pairings like Jake x Rose/makorra > pairings like z*tara

People need to accept that films, shows and books that were made decades or even five years ago will not match up to what fans now deem as culturally sensitive

Stan culture is fucking terrifying

Not being spineless doesn’t mean being a raging bitch

Fandom as a whole need to hold women accountable more. Especially villainesses.

No protagonist, no matter their age or gender, should be expected to keep it together 100% of the time

Characters that aren’t Mary Sues but get turned into one by the fanbase

Canon same gender deeply meangingful platonic relationship >>>>>>>>>> non canon same gender romance between those two characters

Abusive parents/family members should never be forgiven

Hype fatigue is a real thing

We need more characters like Alex Danvers and Winn Schott. Close friendships between lgbt characters and straight characters

Once again. Just because it’s gay doesn’t mean it’s good

The constant adding in of more characters doesn’t add depth. It just leaves everything half baked.

Characters like Doug, Ron and Finn >>>>>>>>>> characters like Harry, Draco and Kylo

We are the fringe demographic for Disney movies. Until the current people in charge die off and our generation take over, unless we are very lucky, we aren’t getting actual fully canon lgbt characters in Disney animated canon anytime soon

Death doesn’t need to equal redemption. Sometimes villains just need to be killed off to thin out the cast so the main characters get the attention they need

Not every villain deserves redemption

Same applies to petty bitches from DCOM’s. Especially petty privileged rich girls who can’t take no for an answer

Everything’s better with airships

Not liking a too popular for their own good non canon pairing, wether it’s straight or not, doesn’t make you a bad person.

The “xyz thing that has no evidence in canon but I’m saying it did because it’s what I think should’ve happened is canon now because I said so, sorry, I don’t make the rules” phenomena is really annoying since these people ALWAYS fucking ACT like they make the rules

Men calling women out on their crap should be normalised more

A lot of the time’s I feel that when fans try to make a platonic relationship romantic the resulting pairing loses everything that made the friendship work

They might not NEED a man but they might sure as hell WANT one. So why shouldn’t they get one?

Fictional feminism needs to be done better. Stop bashing men for existing please

Face the fact that you might think a character is attractive while someone else may not. The reverse is also true. Attractiveness is subjective after all. A character or actor who’d attractive to one person may look like a foot to another person

A villain doesn’t need a sad backstory. Some are just shitty people. And fans need to deal with it

No protagonist, either man women child fantasy creature or animal, should be expected to silence themselves to make others feel comfortable

Magic should be fun and intergrated more. Not a secret to be ashamed of

I’m so damn sick and tired of the “home wrecking lesbian” character type. It’s boring. And cruel. Stop it. Please. (Side eyeing Neighbours and Friends)

While we’re at it. Enough of the man hating lesbian character type please? It’s just another nail in the coffin for healthy platonic friendships

Stop equating the actors real life personalities with the characters they play. Tom Felton ≠ Malfoy. Katie McGrath ≠ Lena Luther. Etc etc

Stop using actors real life friendships to prop up your unhealthy toxic ships

I don’t care what the actors say about their own headcanons in interviews. If it’s not what the writers intended to happen they just need to shut up and do the job they’re paid to do

Actors shouldn’t give false hope to fans. Ie: don’t encourage a non canon pairing that you know isn’t gong to happen. It’s unfair to both sides of the fandom (side eyeing the main actress from descendants)

There is such a thing as being too woke to function. Especially if it’s someone’s only character trait. It just leads to them being completely unsympathetic (side eyes Lisa Marie Simpson)

Using the word “heterosexual” as an insult needs to stop. It’s wrong when gay or the “f-a” word is used as an insult and it’s wrong when heterosexual is used as an insult. Just stop

Characters that use their gender race or sexuality to evade criticism (again, neighbours and far too many sitcoms to count)

A lot of fans, more often than not, completely misuse nuance. A villain who’s only traits are mass murder and thinly veiled adjacent racism doesn’t deserve to be three dimensional

When characters like Sheldon Cooper or John Dorian have to move out of their own apartment to satiate their inconsiderate friends. Especially when it was the formers apartment first

In a similar vein. When the man has to move into the woman’s house instead of the other way around.

Characters like Erik Lehnsherr. When you have a Jewish Holocaust survivor ranting about how “we are the cure” to a massive crowd of his black clad like minded followers. THAT is when you should realise you’ve failed to make a sympathetic villain

I’m really tired of the “nagging wife of a man in a high pressure job is the one you should side with” trope. It’s annoying. And it always leaves me siding with the husband

Children being used as a mouthpiece for the writers views when by all logic they shouldn’t even be aware of said views.

How awkward it is when characters who are clearly not teenagers use teenage slang and jargon in an ill conceived attempt to appear “relatable” to their children.

The gradual abandonment of boys as a target demographic.

Shows where feminism is weaponised.

Characters like Meredith Grey shouldn’t be expected to play happy families with any secret sibling who melts out of the woodwork. It’s kind of insulting actually.

Characters with blue and orange morality shouldn’t be punished for not having black and white morality.

Law of inverse fertility. Just let women who want kids actually HAVE kids. And stop foisting children on women who are in no way capable of being decent mothers.

The absence of proper villains in Disney movies.

The fact that anti intellectualism directly led to the overuse and misuse of the word himbo

When men get rightly jealous of other men their wives and girlfriends hang out with and get dragged for it when you KNOW that if it was the other way around then the woman would be seen as right.

Mickey Mouse and Winnie the Pooh belong under copyright. So does Sherlock. Some things aren’t meant to be in the public domain

Modernising the classics is a sickness and needs to be stopped.

Relating to #86. I’d much rather be mad at period accurate prejudice then be driven to exasperation by parent/government/teacher characters born before tv existed being A-Okay with poc interacting with them in a social setting

Things made decades and even 3-4 years ago will NEVER match up to todays morality standards on this site. So please. Stop fucking bitching about the miniskirts in og Star Trek or how Ross Gellar was a “homophobe” because he didn’t like the fact that his wife cheated on him and left him for the other woman who then proceeded to try and cut him out of his unborn sons life. You all sound like morons.

You can make all the headcanons you like. But for the love of god. Respect EVERY character’s sexuality. Not just the lgbt ones. If a character says they’re straight. They’re straight. If you’re writing about canon. They’re straight. Just because you think that they’re gay doesn’t mean that they’re gay.

In the same vein of the above. Many, many, of you in various fandoms need to get it through your heads that quite a few women and girls in the shows and films you obsess over, like Jane Hopper, actually like being feminine. And you lot need to respect that. Because in the grand scheme of things. Your opinion means jackshit.

I’m never going to like this recent trend of making the romantic platonic and the platonic romantic. All those batshit crazy “elmike” people are just bylers in another font.

All shows and films where the brainiac lead male character is chastised for being a “robot” just reeks of anti-intellectualism to me.

A character is not automatically lgbt just because they are capable of shapeshifting. I fully concede that it would most likely be easier per se. But it doesn’t automatically make them lgbt.

Shows really need to think about feminism in more ways than “man bad/woman good” because a lot of the times. It makes the woman look a lot worse than intended

I completely support that women should not be forced into motherhood. But by the same token. Some shows need to get it through their heads that men shouldn’t be forced into fatherhood.

You HAVE to respect a characters canon sexuality. There’s no two ways about it. It’s basic human decency. BUT you are not required to like how that character or their relationship is handled. Or the character themselves. Case in point. Catra, Thomas Barrow, Nicolette Stone. Their sexualities are not the problem. They are.

If the man knows more than you. Then just fucking listen to him. If the woman knows more than you. Then just fucking listen to her. Forget about mansplaining. If someone knows more than you. Then for the love of Christ. Just fucking listen to them for fucks sake

Directors who disrespect the source material should not be adapting them. And yes. I’m talking about Taika Waititi, Greta Gerwig and whoever made that ridiculous Persuasion film for Netflix.

We need more sequels and less prequels. I liked Gotham. But the fact remains that when we already know what’s going to happen finding out how or why it happened leaves a lot to be desired. And frankly. I’d rather see what happens next.

And finally. We need more women in tv and film who actually like their husbands and boyfriends. Not just love. Because if men is expected to like every aspect of their wives and girlfriends. Then women should be held to the same standard.

[thirdsght]

rivk in public: long sleeves, jackets or armour, thick boots, gloves, helmet or dark sunglasses and a hood.

rivk on the kor ship: walking around shirtless with his hair loose

[sirloozelite]

Galaxy-8: Skywalker’s History Report

(Galaxy-8 can, at times, be an insane collection of insane OOC characters and events. This one is more tame than usual, but is still crazy to keep the running jokes going. Enjoy the sort of madness)

Scene: Jedi Temple. The Tano-Skywalker shared accommodation. Padawan Anakin Skywalker is trying to write an essay on a recent historical event. He is stuck, and turns to his Master, Ahsoka Tano for help.

Anakin: Master? Can I ask you for help?

Ahsoka: Sure thing buddy! What’s up? You’re history report giving you trouble?

Anakin: I’m ok with most of it, but there is this event in recent history that I’m a bit confused on. I wondered if you knew anything about it, since it was within your lifetime and all. 

Ahsoka: Oh? What event?

Anakin: ‘The Great Beer Purge of Mandalore.’

Ahsoka: Woah boy! That’s a doozy! What do you know about it?

Anakin: Only that the Mandalore Duchess ‘Satine the Ruthless’ declared the production, distribution and consumption of alcohol as illegal all across Mandalore, with execution as punishment! 

Ahsoka: I mean... you’re not wrong, but that’s also about half the story. 

Anakin: You know more about it?

Ahsoka: Yep. I was there for a visit during the purge actually. The Duchess’ sister, Lady Bo Katan, told me about about it. 

Anakin: Uh huh? I’m sure she did. -_-

Ahsoka: Ha! Not like that! XD

Anakin: So... what was it all about exactly? Seemed a bit evil really. 

Ahsoka: Yeah. Satine might be a ruthless bitch, but the ‘Purge’ was a stroke of tactical genius if you ask me. 

Anakin: What?!?!

Ahsoka: Hear me out. Satine had been dealing with a rise in criminal activity in the years before the ‘Purge’. To quell the growing black market and pirate trade she came up with a scheme to weed out the criminals. Banning alcohol lead to an increase in black market trade, as well as a rise in ‘Beer Barons’. Satine and her people used this growth to track down the leadership of several criminal syndicates, and Bo Katan then led strike teams to eliminate those organizations. That’s where the ‘Purge’ bit comes from. 

Anakin: Wait?!!? I thought the ‘Purge’ bit meant the deaths of civilians who broke the law!

Ahsoka: Common misconception. Bo told me that anyone who did break the law simply got exiled from Mandalore and sent to one of their colonies. No mass civilian murder. Don’t get me wrong, Satine had more than earned her moniker of ‘Ruthless, but she’s not evil. Her husband, Duke Kenobi, keeps her in check.

Anakin: But hang on... wouldn’t making the trade of alcohol illegal be detrimental to the economy of Mandalore. It’s one of the most lucrative commodities in the galaxy!

Ahsoka: True.... but do you know how rich Satine is!!! They could afford it. 

Anakin: So.... basically, end of the day, the ‘Great Beer Purge of Mandalore’ was nothing more than a clever plan to root out the bad guys?

Ahsoka: Yep... and once Satine was confident that the criminal syndicates and black markets had been dealt with, she lifted the law on banning alcohol with immediate effect. Again, I think Kenobi had something to do with that. 

Anakin: ... man... politics are weird!

Ahsoka: Tell me about it! That’s why I prefer Bo! She’s the cooler of the two sisters. Easily to get along with as well.

Anakin: And by get along with... do you mean???

Ahsoka: ...

Anakin: ...

Ahsoka: Well... a lady doesn’t kiss and tell Skyguy!

Anakin: MASTERRRRR!!!!!! YOU SAID THAT YOU DIDN’T A FEW MINUTES AGO!!!!!

Ahsoka: Heh... yeah... that was totally a lie!!! Figuring out how to remove Mando armour sure was fun! 

Anakin: MASTERRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Ahsoka: XD

[cupcakecoterie]

@true0neutral - Hazel, half-elf cleric

@fauxfire76 - Darvin, human bard

@miaaoi - Froseth, dragonborn monk

@hyperewok1 - Remi, human paladin

@sfwarlock - Nai/Eryn, elf ranger

Marion - Ava, human ranger

@noctumsolis - Riswynn, dwarf rogue

This session could have ended better. This session could have ended worse. This session was brilliant and amazing and epic and a little traumatising. So here are the bullet points.

Ava, confronted with her half-dragon half-sister, a lot of Crownsguard and the Lady Emavaela, surrendered ... mostly quietly as she was very securely bound to avoid her being able to use somatic or material components, threatened with harm to her friends if she tried to use a verbal-only spell, and marched off to the throne room.

Riswynn picked the lock on the door to her room, but couldn’t do anything about the magic component to the lock. That was negated by someone firing a grappling hook at her windowsill. She climbed down it to find a wood elf woman with a very ... well, now truly unique hairstyle - she said she went by Beth (which would make her Bethrynna, Eryn’s cousin who went to hunt for him when he first disappeared) and said that she and some of the wood elves she’d befriended since arriving were willing to help deal with the soldiers and half-dragon woman who’d arrived at the palace.

Froseth took a unique approach to getting the hell out - he just used Mould Earth to loosen the stone door frame and quietly lower door and frame out of the doorway.

Darvin got a warning from Tysha, his new half-elf friend, and proceeded to Dimension Door himself into the garden. After stealing a glass rose as a potential weapon, and getting a bit of an update from the kitchen staff, he went down into the cellar to find Froseth and Eryn, and found Froseth’s door just as Froseth levered the door frame out of the doorway.

Alisaie let Flitty out of the Flitty-bag and then out the window to try to find the others, immediately before she was also seized by Crownsguard. She went peacefully, but not before Remi cast Hunter’s Mark on her, so that hunting for her when she finally got out wouldn’t be so difficult. Alisaie was bound like Ava, also gagged because bard, and slapped around a bit as she was hauled off. Remi immediately put on her armour...

Flitty found Hazel (who had attuned to Alisaie’s axe), and managed to do something about the magic on her door lock so she could get out. She snuck down to the basement at Flitty’s suggestion as Flitty went to fetch Riswynn with the agreement to meet by the cellar stairs.

Eryn got clever by moving the bed, using Silent Image to make it look like an elf was in the bed, and then hiding behind the door ... which didn’t matter because Froseth used his Mould Earth trick to get his door down. Hazel joined them relatively quickly, and Riswynn snuck up to pounce-hug Hazel, which thankfully did not get her killed - though the botched Strength check in her attempt to lift-hug Hazel resulted in her nearly throwing her back out. From there, they decided to get to Remi - ‘Beth’ (who was going hooded and unnamed at that point) elected to accompany them while the rest of her little band of wood elves went to find the group’s weapons.

While all that had been going on, Crownsguard dragged a bound and somewhat beat-up Alisaie into the throne room and the half-dragon half-sister (who was sitting on the throne, which Lady Emavaela didn’t like much) issued Ava an ultimatum - unless Ava gave up the Vanedar name to her not-Vanedar half-sister, willingly and in spirit as well as in word, Alisaie would be taken to Blackcrown, to ‘answer for her crimes against the king’s family’, so to speak (so many dragons with her delivering the killing blow) - before the king of Baronsvere, and said king’s five-headed bitch of a god. There may have been intimation that the black tainting gunk might be involved in her punishment. Alisaie tried to indicate that no, no, Ava couldn’t give the half-dragon bitch the name and all that went with it, but Ava was badly torn and kept trying to ask what they wanted with Cedargrove. The half-dragon simply said that she wasn’t going to respond to that and she’d take Ava’s hesitance as a no, at which point she had the Crownsguard drag Alisaie over to the throne.

They found Remi’s door with Flitty’s help, and Hazel was just about to step aside for someone to pick the lock when Remi, at the end of her tether, kicked the door down more or less right in Hazel’s face. So at that point the group was together again and with Remi’s Hunter’s Mark, they knew where Alisaie was at least, and figured Ava would probably be there too. So off they went, collecting their weapons on the way from the wood elves who decided to cover the halls against reinforcements while the rest did their rescuing.

Remi kicked the throne room doors in and yelled at Lady Emavaela “You have broken the laws of hospitality”, and then the half-dragon, “and you’re next!” and combat started, with some veeeeeeery bad initiative rolls and Ava, in the middle of the room flanked by four Crownsguard, yelling at them to get to Alisaie (near to the throne and effectively swarmed) first.

First thing Lady Emavaela did? Port right the hell out. Noped straight out. Which was good for her because Froseth got moderately close and used Gong of the Summit to take out a goodly number of the Crownsguard around the throne. The half-dragon - apparently a dragon-blooded sorcerer - tried Dominate Monster on him, either not knowing or underestimating Stillness of Mind. Eryn tried Fae Presence to terrify two of them into the Frightened condition but that didn’t work. The half-dragon got a couple of arrows in her courtesy Beth and some funky Horizon Walker abilities. Darvin blew an action on Countercharm, and Froseth had to on Stillness of Mind, and no one let Ava out so she couldn’t use her Arrows of Switching to get Alisaie out of the mess of Crownsguard, and dwarven movement speed is not as good for flanking as it could be, and at the end of it all, the half-dragon hit a few people with a nasty amount of chain lightning before using her Quickened Spell metamagic to bonus action Plane Shift out with Alisaie. This pissed off everyone and Hazel switched on Spirit Guardian fairy dragons, which mulched all of the rest of the Crownsguard over by the throne (with help from Riswynn) while Beth, Remi, and Darvin more or less eviscerated the ones near Ava. There was a lot of screaming from Remi and Ava. Like, a lot.

Some healing got dumped into those hit by the chain lightning (except Froseth, with his Evasion, lucky sod), and Beth revealed herself to Eryn, which more or less broke him, and Hazel destroyed the throne with Alisaie’s axe, and everybody’s very upset but Bethrynna is a Horizon Walker and can help them hunt down their friend, probably as the last thing she does before her deal with Nerull comes due. They’re going to need some rest first - that’s the bad news. Good news? So is the half-dragon. They have a bit of time, and that’s if the half-dragon - on her own, no backup, though a fair bit of magic - can keep a really pissed off bard-barian subdued in whatever plane she used as her escape route. So the Cupcake Coterie are going to be meeting up with the wood elves in their outskirts-settlement to plan that whole thing.

One of the things I am starting to notice about some of the players is that they are terrified of anyone taking any damage, at all, ever. A couple of guards with swords but no class levels aren’t going to do a lot of damage to players at level 7-8 or so - not before they turn the offending cannon fodder into a damp smear. I don’t entirely get that, to be honest - sometimes taking damage is a tactical move. I guess it’s the people that don’t understand that who also think that attacks of opportunity are unfair because it obliges them to take damage. If there’d been a tactical decision to let damage happen, that might have gone ... better. Still, things happen as they happen and it might not be as much an OOC thing as an IC thing sometimes, but we’ll see what lessons the party - players and characters alike - take away from this.

[stevesnightmares]

Endgame thoughts

I really loved a lot of parts of this movie, but also things that I didn’t like, for example there were characters that were ooc for the sake of jokes/plot, and the time travel was really badly explained. However the most important part of this movie is the ending, because this is the end for these characters, so what I care abot the most is how the movie ended. And the ending? Well, it was the most disappointing ending that I’ve ever saw.

Here’s a list of The good and The bad under the cut.

 The good:

there is a lot of good in this movie

tbh I loved basically the whole movie just before the ending

I loved the beginning, even if a lot of people say it was really slow, it was, but that's good.

I love that they focused a bit on their lives after the snap. Steve with the support group and really trying to help everyday people. Natasha, trying her best to defend earth, because that's her job, what she really loves doing. I loved the fact that Nebula and Rhody worked together, and it really does make sense that Carol can't stay on earth, there are so many other planets that need help.

I love all the scenes in the past. They were absolutely brilliant and a lot, A LOT, of fun.

I love that they expanded Nebula's character and that we got more of her.

NebulaxRhody friendship.

NatashaxSteve friendship.

RocketxAnyone friendships.

ClintxNatasha friendship (even though I'm still mad that it is only a friendship)

Tony isn't my favourite character, but I was slowing liking him more and more and oh my god I was so so happy for him when we found out that he and Pepper got married and had a daughter. Tony really deserved this.

Scott and his daughter reunion.

Tbh? I cried three times in this movie and all 3 of these times were because of Natasha's death. Am I absolutely destroyed that she's dead? Yes. However her death was really really good. She died because of her family, because Clint was part of that family, he was the first person that believe in her and that wanted to help her. She died protecting the thing that she loved the most and that made her happy: her family.

The scene with all the marvel women? Hell yeah. Also really sad tho because in IW it was Natasha that said "she's not alone" and now she wasn't there for this. Here I go crying again. I was loving Natasha more and more with every film and in this one she was absolutely phenomenal.

Pepper in the armour.

How good Natasha looked. Loved her hair.

The bad

First and foremost the time travel was explained terribly in my opinion and because of that a lot of things are either not understandable and confusing or plot holes.

I thought that a lot of scenes with Thor were funny, however I don't like how his character was treated. It's fine to have him became and alcoholic after everything that happened, but if you do that you can't have his alcoholism be just a joke.

Natasha's death. Fuck off she deserved better. She didn't get a burial, she didn't get a funeral scene, she didn't get to say goodbye to Steve or the rest of her family and she deserved to.

Are you really telling me that they couldn't defeat/kill Thanos even when he didn't have the gauntlet? That's bullshit. That's absolute bullshit. It's so unrealistic that it's almost laughable.

I'm not happy about the fact that Tony was the one to use the gauntlet and heroically die. Fuck that. All he wanted was to go back to his family, to his wife and to his daughter. That's what he was fighting for, so that everyone could have their kids and spouses and parents and friends back. Because he got luckier than others. Not fair. He should have lived because finally he had something real not only to fight for but to come home to and stop flighting.

"You can rest now" fuck no, bitch get up, you can rest on our couch at home. What kinda bullshit is this? So what, the only was Tony can rest is by dying. Get outta here. That's bullshit, it was clear that he could live a happy life with his family, not that the only way for him to be happy was to die. Like. Stop.

Steve ending though is what really ruined the movie for me. Now the only thing that I can think of when I think about Endgame is Steve's ending. And because of that I don't have fond memories of Endgame. The ending leaves a strong impression on people, and if they hate the ending then the Memories of the whole thing aren't going to be good. This ending was the most disappointing ending in my life. When I got home and stared to really think about it I felt hurt and betrayed. I know that the Russo's loved Peggy and Steve relationship because they always tried to shove it down our throats but this was the worst choice the could have made. THE WORST. It's been so long since Steve was actually in a relationship with Peggy, it's been, movie wise, 13 years. Do you know how much that is? It's a whole lotta time. I don't know how they work but in real life people move on. Yes, sometimes you still think about the person but you move on. And even in CW they showed us that Steve was, in fact, moving on. Why can't they just make him move on from someone that he loved 13 years ago. Other than that the audience never even saw this great and beautiful love because they had like 4 minutes of screen time together, and what? We are supposed to be super satisfied because Steve decided to stay back in time instead of staying with his family in the present? Fuck no I'm not.

Also, back to the time travel thing, it doesn't make sense. So, for what I gathered, if you go in the past and change something you create and alternative time line, so how come in the present he is in his normal timeline in which he shouldn't be? Because he sure as hell didn't arrive in that machine.

Also, Steve did everything for Bucky, because he's like a brother to Steve, he fought the Government for him, he went against orders for him, he was letting himself get killed for him, and suddenly he means nothing to him anymore and he just leaves him behind as if he were nothing? Get.The.Fuck.Out.Of.Here. No way. No way in hell.

And Steve, the man that can't walk away if he sees injustice, is what, just going to leave a happy life in a period full of racism and misogyny?

Here's a round of friendship ruined/Forgotten as if they meant nothing by Endgame:

Steve X Bucky

Rhody X Tony

Bruce X Tony

Thor X Valkyrie

Steve X Wanda ( like, she was like a little sister to him in CW and now they don't even talk and then he leaves like???)

Thor X Loki

For now that's it, I can't think of nothing else.

[wojtekbc]

Chain of Acheron ep 14 megapost.

I had this typed out before, but it got deleted because I forgot to save it last night. I’m really smart by the way. This will probably be shorter, as a result, because all of these are put on the list as I watch the episode and I can’t be fucked rewatching it right away. “Angel’s Report” is the best episode title next to “Red Sky at Morning.”

”Odie, deploy the parasol.” Slim and Leech’s scene? Precious. Anna’s notes are chaos manifest. I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again; I kind of ship Judge and Boots, and I’m not even really Fandom Trash. Yes, I realise the irony in me saying that, on Tumblr, in a fandom tag that I make up like 80% of the posts in, but you get me. I just think their interactions are cute and even the way Matt talked about them in the campaign diary was sweet.

The knight with riding gloves pinned to his pauldron is 110% my AESTHETIC BITCH I LOVE DECORATION LIKE THAT. Angel’s report; I’m gonna have to write a full post about how much I love this but I like how it boils down to “Alvaro is playing games. They’re ALL playing games! AND WE’RE A PIECE, NOT A PLAYER!!!” Angel, talking about the attack on the inn: “You see, boss, shit like this happens all the fucking time in this city” Copper, only paying half attention, and worried his sleep paralysis nightmares have been given physical form in this city:“Wait, like Shadow People?” The fact Lars had to address the audience and make sure people know he just has a serious case of RBF and he’s still enjoying the game a lot is crazy. “He graduated with honours from the college of war, and enrolled as a freshman into the college of sorceries. That was 30 years ago. This guy is like, one of the most powerful mages in the city” WHY CAN’T I HAVE MORE STUFF LIKE THIS. “We are the newest, smallest spy network in the city.” The fact that had to be said is so indicative of the setting and I love it. OD’s mind instantly going to “These college guys are open with each other. What if we cut someone’s finger off and give Boots their highschool ring?” is pure chaos D&D. Making a trip to the magic shop an appointment with a private collector is so much better than Ye Olde Magic Weapon Shoppe. Leech’s “Is there a boy in my room?” and “Can I send a boy to fetch me some clothes?” is so good, and Matt making the point of the older humans probably being younger than him is even funnier if he’s calling some dude in his 50s boy. I picture Bigcat on the flying carpet hanging from the underside with her tentacles strapping her to it. A treant private magic item curator? That’s so neat! HAHAHAHAHA SUMAT POL AND THE PERMANENT TRANSIENT  “Besides, all you pinkskins look the same.” Oh no, please, don’t make me dislike them. I really like having one-off NPCs basically hint at an impossibly larger picture just by existing. Wow, having an NPC give their own cosmic, 6th dimensional answer as to why Blackrazor might not be in the setting is actually kind of amazing. It really feels like Matt’s made his world feel even more like his opinion on really early D&D, where everything is in some constant, shared string of related universes. “We can probably get you a Vorpal weapon, sure,” dude Phil’s face at that was brilliant. There was the half second of like “Wait did I seriously just get that by asking?” OH, MATT’S GONNA HOMEBREW A LESSER VORPAL BLADE? Yeah I’m totally stealing all of this with my own spices. Leech with a purple metal mask would be awesome. I’m a big fan of straight up asking the players “What do you want?” Because it’s pretty unlikely they’ll get the opportunity to just ask for something from this dimensional curator every week. The image of Judge, Buts and Slim making demonheart weapons and armour out of extraplanar metal is really cool, but it also makes me think of the countless times where you and your friends have 0 coordination and you take 5 hours to assemble flatpack furniture. I’ll say it again. Tom as Copper is such brilliant roleplay, and every time he speaks it is golden. The Navigator gains intrinsics from eating.   Sumat: “Are you sure Kenway has the shield? I heard he has the crown.” Lars, OOC: “Not unless he took it from Sigurd, that’s bullshit” Sumat: “Who’s Sigurd?” Blood trickles out of King’s nose. You can tell why the amulet which prevents scrying or whatever would be valuable in the city of the Great Game. Final thoughts: Love this episode. Nice to see the intrigue of Capital finally being unveiled, and Sumat Pol managed to be funny while also being a pretty genius NPC in their own right. 

[beaxmartin-blog]

since i’m going to dublin ( and to bed ) and don’t know if this task should just be marked as complete ( or incomplete if emma is unsatisfied lmfao !! ) i just wanted to wrap things up as best as i can 

ooc notes about my process are below, because i engaged in some high fuckery you might have fun learning about

and i just want everyone to know i love you all and i’m sorry we only got two ish days of my nonsense ( but mayhaps, you are happy it is over,,,,, idk )

i had no plan in the beginning, except staying true to bea, and what she would do if she was faced with the task set out for her ( the implication being, get with rhett, ruin his relationship. )

so,  i cycled through several different plans: - get rhett alone and come on to him was the first, and most natural one, but one bea would have quickly scrapped, especially when there were other factors to consider - force a sayre and rhett fight by telling rhett that he’s not good enough for sayre and bea can tell  - fuck with matteo, send him to the chateau marmont then get him to come back and witness bea kissing rhett ( or simulating a kiss somehow ) so he’d then run back to sayre and tell her everything - send matteo and sayre to the bar to force them closer together - drop hints until sayre figures out that bea hooked up with rhett ( and since she doesn’t know it was well in the past, well, she’s going to think it’s now and he cheated, write ?? )

YALL SIDE NOTE I CAN’T SPELL - wreck bronte and matteo’s thing instead of sayre and rhett’s, because grace can’t afford to be picky and doesn’t want to give up her beatt card yet !! - tell rhett everything once they were alone and not get the points - set up an elaborate ( floral ) gesture in the house for sayre and force rhett into taking credit for it ( end game: speeding up their relationship, getting the grandiosity on camera, lots of ways to figure this out, the flowers mostly ended up being about distracting elliot / chloe ) and, finally, the plan that i set my finger on and knew was the one, - just fuck shit up: approach those words like a writer would and dismantle them. chinks in armour and all that. 

elliot was involved because bea would want that and that’s about it ( read his rules for How To Be A Manipulative Bitch i died )

i knew fairly early on i wanted a bunch of different characters to get reeled in, in part to provide fodder and get everyone swept up ( i wish i could have gotten all of u, ily ) and in part because the more seeds were planted, the more likely it was one or two or three of them would do something right 

a main goal, of both bea and myself ooc, was to sow confusion. about my plans, what the hell was going on, so on. 

ooc, i spoke to prom lexi, libby, bex, and chloe ( fuck sorry chloe lmao i truly did fall asleep,,,, didn’t fuck up my notes with cyrillic tho, i just decided to be a bitch ass like bea and tell u / elliot nothing wow terrible bad wrong ) ( the cyrillic thing has happened before tho ) and fed all of them different plans, and then proceeded to tell bex and libby ( not lexi bc she was at PROM ) the other two plans too, and then basically told them good luck figuring out which one was actually going to happen

that was mostly just meta and to fuck with them (forgive me ilua)

does this make any kind of sense ?? no. but i don’t think bea could have approached this task in a rational fashion. so the zigzagging, the questionable snaps and texts, that’s what i got.

final question: am i pretentious !! yes. extremely. just wanted to try and explain myself as best i could for those of u at home lol.

stay turned for more ‘ kiki is desperate for a task then loses her shit when she gets one ’