#also i'll be answering an anon ask but

[insurged]

ANNOUNCEMENT: blog hiatus from may 7-10th !! i won't be on here since i'll be visiting my grandmother in CA.

[arttsuka]

Jed and Oct need a bigger tank- who put them in such a small tank???

I like to think Larry was like "I'll go buy a big tank tomorrow for you to stay until we figure out how to turn you back" (because the shops wouldn't be open at night) and then he put them in two glasses of water. Jed had a panic attack (almost dying in a hourglass will leave some trauma behind) so Larry just went to his house, found an old fishbowl he had (for decorative reasons, filled with little rocks etc) and brought that back to the museum.

[cutie-lumi]

Every femstars artist I've seen draws Mugi with big boobs and I'M NOT COMPLAININGJFKSNGK I just love how she has the biggest boobs and then nat is like.... Flat.. I feel kinda rude saying thatdbsknf😭 I love them so much ❤️❤️

I LOVE WHEN PEOPLE DRAW THEM LIKE THIS!!!!!!! it's my ultimate hc for their bodies ever since I?? started shipping them ig?? Fem!Tsumugi not caring about her looks yet being well endowed while Fem!Natsume is like. always looking super pretty, but being flat as hell (and a little bit jealous of mugi's overall body proportions)? SIGN ME UPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP IT'S MY FAVE SHIP DYNAMIC. I EAT IT ALL UP ALL THE TIME. I love seeing other artists having this as their hc as well!! Imo it suits them so much OUGHHHHHHH i need to thank all the artists who also draw them like this bc you're the reason why im so well fed. thank u for your service.

[journey-to-the-attic]

THE DRAWING WITH DIA WAS SO CUTE!!! Could you do one with Asmo but she asks him to play dress up??

(If you have time and motivation ofc!!! Not forcing!!)

((ALSO ILYSM AHHHH YOU'RE MY FAV CREATOR))

normally it'd take me longer to do an extended art reply but inspiration struck with this one

(alternate final panel where the dress-up outfits are mulan and mushu instead):

[neverevan]

My question is why doesn’t he just say “hey I didn’t post that I got hacked”? He deleted the instagram posts so he’s clearly aware that it’s going on, and I just feel like it would be very easy for him to post an insta story or something if he’s already on his account anyway and just say something. The silence is so weird to me

guys, you know I'm not Lou, right? like idk what goes on with the man, but sometimes trying to not make an even bigger deal out of something works best, sometimes it takes time to figure out the best way to address things, sometimes people are dumb and can't find the best way at all idk

as a somewhat parallel to this situation: when Ryan fumbled the bag, he apologised and promised to do better (which he probably did cuz I doubt Aisha and him would be so close if he hasn't) and people are still calling him racist (and antivaxx and antisemite and homophobic for whatever reason even though as far as I know he has never said anything to prompt those labels...)

and why call people out if we'll just ignore them doing better? only for the moral high ground that'll eventually become shaky, because none of us are immune...

anyway, my point is; him apologising for something he did over a decade ago wouldn't do much at best and would just aggravate these people at worst. idk if he plans to say something eventually or not, I don't particularly care for it, either.

there is a lot of guess work going on and I definitely don't claim to know everything (I did spend some time this morning trying to track down what had happened though and the accounts are consistent, but for understandable reasons proof is scarce and I also have 90% of 911twt blocked, so that doesn't help lmao)

what I'm saying is, the behaviour we've seen so far is deranged, however Lou plans to handle this is his own choosing and people who like him will still like him and people who hate him will still hate him, so there is no winning either way.

[so-that-was-okay]

Hi, I'm genuinely curious about “BoB(s)“. I'm pretty new to the fandom and know it stands for bvddie shippers but what is it shortened from? Google and tumblr search gives me zilch, so if you know, pls share?

Hey, anon!

BoB means Buddie or Bones Bust (I think there are some variations? So if anyone can correct me here, please do! Edit: original source). Basically, it's the part of the Buddie shippers that openly hates Tommy (Edit: and apparently any of Buck's past LI who also received their share of hate) and the relationship between Tommy and Buck. They're also the part of the fandom who are harassing the cast and writers, especially Lou and Tim because they feel like Buddie should have happened.

We all know that shipping Buddie is perfectly normal, I also loved the idea of them together when I started the show, and this ship has been at the center of the fandom for years. So I really understand the disappointment. Really. What I don't understand, and refuse to ignore, is the hate against real people, and insulting them online, under official posts, by tagging them, etc.

So while I have absolutely no problem with Buddie shippers who stay in their lane, and that's the majority, I won't stay silent when it comes to the "BoBs" and the ugly things they do and say.

[our-blood-is-our-ink]

if your still doing the prompt thing how about 17, 23, 25, 29 with power!bottom claire being stressed and intern!reader offering to help but don't have any sexual experience so claire teaches them

Thank you so much for sending this in! I'm so sorry it took so long to complete, life got very hectic, but I have it for you now! I hope I've done this request justice <3

Afterhours

Ship: Claire Debella x Reader

Summary: When you, an intern working at the governor's office, offer to stay with the governor while she works late into the night, you find yourself in a situation you have only ever fantasized of.

Word Count: 5.8k

Disclaimer: 18+ ONLY, minors dni

Warnings: smut, hints at dark!Claire, pet-names, praise kink, degradation kink, fingering, oral, first time, virgin reader, legal age gap, power imbalance, mommy kink, begging, implied subspace

It's an open secret at the office that Governor Debella is paranoid.

If the extreme vetting process to just simply become an intern is anything to go by, the woman could use some relaxation time.

After all, a single intern hardly would have the ability to take down the political powerhouse that Governor Debella is.

Or, that's what you think anyhow.

You knew you had been lucky to land the job, the experience and credentials that will pad up your resume and qualifications that will come from working here, but some days, all you can think about is how stressed the top boss constantly is.

Being a people pleaser, being a people fixer, you started to stay late, wanting to get as much work done as possible.

Sure, you're only a low level entry personnel, but what you do helps free up time for those above you to focus on more important things.

After a few weeks of being the last one in the office, Governor Debella notices.

“Don't you have someone to get home to? A boyfriend, or a pet, or something?”

You nearly topple back in your seat, startled by your boss’s boss’s boss’s boss (seriously there's a chain of command here, and you're merely a bottom feeder) not having heard her approach from behind.

“Governor!” You gasp, trying to recover. “Uh- I don't- I live with a few roommates, but they never care if I'm there or not. We're all very busy.”

Governor Debella frowns, and crosses her arms.

“There's no reason for you to be staying so late. You're an intern. You don't get paid overtime.”

You shrug.

“I don't have much else to do. Call it volunteer hours.”

(And god, doesn't that sound pathetic, especially because it's true.)

Her frown deepens.

“It's illegal for you to stay and work without pay.”

“Are you telling me I need to start going home at quitting time?”

The words spill from your mouth before you can think them through.

There's a moment of silence, and for a second you could swear it's hesitation on Governor Debella’s face.

“No.” She says, after a beat too long.

There's another, much longer silence.

You hate the quiet, and you find yourself breaking it.

“Then, er, what do you want me to do?”

Governor Debella blinks, and it draws your attention to the dark bags underneath her tired silvery-blue eyes, her makeup must having had rubbed off enough for it to begin to show.

You suddenly realize that perhaps it's just as exhausting for her as it is for everyone else to deal with her stress and paranoia.

“Would you like some company while you work?” You offer, a gentleness in your tone that you hadn't made the decision to speak with. “I could clock out and then just… Sit in your office with you if you'd like. I know how empty the building feels when everyone has left.”

This time, you know you haven't imagined her hesitation.

“I'm under contract, anyhow, Governor. If there's an additional paper you need me to sign, for security reasons, well.” You shrug. “What's one more?”

Again, there's silence, and then…

“Call me Claire, if you're really willing to sit and do nothing for hours besides for staring at my office walls.”

You're a bit shocked she's accepted your offer, and you stumble over your response.

“I- oh. Uh… Okay, um. Claire.”

The governor’s lips twitch, as if she's hiding a smile.

“But not tonight. I was just about to head out, which means you definitely should too. Security won't stick around once I leave, and the night shift…” Claire scowls. “I need to remember to get them replaced.”

It's the most you've ever heard her talk without snapping at someone to do something, let alone to you.

“Isn't that what your assistant is for? To remind you or to arrange that on your behalf?”

“That's only if I remember to tell him.” Claire mutters, before shaking her head. “Shut your computer down, you're not staying if I'm not in the building.”

She waits, hovering over your shoulder as you listen, and she walks with you out to the front of the building.

“You didn't park in the lot?” She asks, when you start to head towards home.

You can feel your face flush.

“I uh… I don't exactly get paid enough to own a car.” You refuse to look at the older woman. “Usually I just walk back.”

“It's two in the morning.” Claire sounds incredulous.

“I have pepper spray.”

“No. You're not walking home anymore.”

Claire has her arms crossed again, and an all too familiar glare is being leveled at you.

Before now, you always thought it was an angry expression.

You're beginning to wonder if maybe it's a stubborn one instead.

You sigh.

“Well short of driving me home yoursel-”

“That's exactly what I'm going to do.”

You barely manage to keep your jaw from dropping as Claire turns, clearly expecting you to follow her.

You suppose if you don't, you won't get too far before she can find you walking.

Or if not, possibly fire you over it tomorrow.

You push down your anxiety.

Don't worse case scenario. You scold yourself.

Claire drives a nondescript silver minivan.

“I have custody every other month.” She explains your unanswered question.

Ah, right.

Sometimes you forget that Claire just recently went through divorce, that she has two little ones to care for.

You remember how the media had dug it all up, how they aired her very private life for the public.

For a minivan, it's pretty nice.

When Claire turns on the car, a few loud notes play, before she quickly slams her palm against the knob that turns the car music on and off.

You raise an eyebrow, but don't say anything about it.

Instead you ask, “how are they?”

“My kids?”

She sounds mildly surprised as she reaches for her seatbelt.

“Yeah.”

You click yours in as she replies.

“They're… They're okay, all things considered.”

She puts the car in reverse, and you rattle off your address so she knows where she's headed.

Her nose wrinkles, and you're willing to bet it's because you don't live in a particularly nice area.

“You had to hire shadows- uh, bodyguards for them, right?”

Claire's hands clench the wheel, turning her knuckles white.

“I don't know of any other governor who's had their children's lives threatened.” She practically growls. “It scares them, but they won't say anything.”

“I'm sorry.” You murmur.

Claire glances at your pale face, and she takes a breath, forcing her body to relax.

“It's not your fault.” She shakes her head. “They're my kids. I'm their mother. I'm bound to be a bit overprotective.”

You choke back an unamused laugh.

“You would hope.”

Claire gives you a quick look, before returning her full attention to the road.

“What makes you say that?”

Oh crap, you didn't mean to invite Claire to dig into your life.

“Er… My parents… They weren't the best.” You mumble.

Claire frowns, eyes still looking forward.

“How old are you again?”

“Twenty-three.”

Claire hums.

“And how much are we paying you again?”

You rattle off the salary.

Claire hums again, and then there's silence for the rest of the short drive.

When she pulls up in front of your apartment, you say, “this is it.”

You undo your seatbelt and open the door, moving to leave.

“I'll have the paperwork ready for you on your desk by lunch.” Claire says.

At your confused look she huffs.

“For your extended night hours.”

Oh!

“Right, thank you. And thank you for the lift.”

Claire nods.

“If you don't have those papers past lunch break, hound my assistant. Don't take no for an answer, I might not remember to let Brian know to expect you to be a bother.”

The word bother echoes around your head, and you swallow down sudden anxiety.

“Sure thing. Good night, Governor-er- Claire.”

“Good night.” The other woman says, and you shut the passenger door firmly behind you as you sprint into your building.

—»•«—

You do have to bother her assistant the next day, and the stack of papers Claire presents you with is frankly ridiculous, but you pull out a notepad, read them through, and write bullet points of what you're agreeing to.

You sign, and initial, and date.

And then you binder clip it all together and drop it with a fairly solid thud onto Brian’s desk.

“Governor Debella will want these to be scanned and filed.” You say, even as an intern knowing the procedure for important documentation.

The man frowns at you.

“You're not done.” Brain says, and then seemingly out of nowhere, produces another stack of papers.

You groan, but your impatience quickly disappears as you stare at the sheet of paper, towards the end of the stack, that says how much of a raise you're receiving for signing on to be Claire’s personal intern.

Claire's personal intern.

$47,000

That was $15k more than what you had been making.

What the fuck.

You sign the papers, and don't say a word.

Slowly, as the day progresses, people trickle out, until you're the last one in the main office.

Brain looks at you as he leaves, and nearly walks into a wall trying to maintain his stare.

You head towards Claire's office and knock on her door.

“Come in.”

She sounds frazzled, and you realize you haven't seen her flying around the office today as you normally do.

“Everything alright?” You ask, taking note of Claire's disheveled state.

“No.” Is the simple answer you get, and you don't push as Claire continues to frantically scribble something out.

You glance around, familiarizing yourself with the private office you so rarely see the inside of, and take notice of a little seating area, with two arm chairs and a very comfortable looking couch.

In addition, there's what appears to be a bar cart, but it's filled with bottled water and sports drinks instead of alcohol, as well as a giant TV screen and what looks like a game console hooked up to it.

Somehow, you can't quite picture Claire playing video games while at work, and you have to wonder if perhaps she has ever been forced to watch one or both of her kids while working.

You don't want to become an annoyance, so instead of pacing the space, you choose to settle into one of the armchairs, curling up with one knee to your chest, the other dangling off the side of the chair.

You stare at the ceiling and let your mind wander as you examine the embedded ceiling lights.

“This is fucking bullshit.” Claire suddenly growls, and the sound of a pen clattering against the plastic wood of her desk sounds through the room.

“What is?” You ask.

Claire’s head jerks up, and for a moment, she looks surprised.

“You're so quiet.” She says. “I forgot you were here.”

You shrug, and don't say I’m good at that, I've had a lot of practice growing up.

You do say, “I didn't want to be a distraction.”

Claire hums.

She does that a lot, you realize.

“Well, maybe instead I can bounce this off of you.”

She gestures for you to come around to her side of the desk, and you quickly skim over what appears to be a proposal for a bill.

“Is it even legal for me to be doing this?” You ask.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Claire shrugging.

“You work for the government office this will be coming out from. It's not illegal, just out of the norm.”

You make a noise of understanding, going over the contents of it, frowning.

“What’s the problem with this?” You ask once you're finished giving the proposal a once-over.

Claire viciously stabs a single digit at some handwritten notes laying next to her keyboard.

“This section, this sentence, this paragraph, this fucking word is wrong, but the thesaurus is being useless-”

“Whoa, whoa.” You slow down what was sure to be Claire spiraling into more stress. “What's the most important thing to fix here?”

Claire blinks, pauses, frowns, then flips through her notes.

“Here.” She finally decides. “This entire section needs to be completely rewritten.”

You scroll to the right place on the computer screen and read it over more carefully.

“I'm pretty sure we can bullshit what you want to say here.” You murmur half to yourself. “It shouldn't be too difficult, most of the framework is here, it's just about closing the loopholes and rewording things to be less polarizing.”

“You make it sound so simple.” Claire grumps, leaning back in her chair and frowning as she crosses her arms.

You shrug.

“I bullshitted my fair share of essays, the difficult part to it is having a decent outline, which you already have.”

The other woman grumbles something under her breath before sitting up, shooing you away with a flick of her hand.

“Alright, well if it's that easy.” Her tone is disgruntled, but her fingers are already clacking against the keyboard, and you take that as your signal to return to the armchair you had been lazing about in.

At the end of the night, she drives you home again.

It becomes a routine.

For the next few months, Claire uses you as a sound board during the late hours, and you've taken to bringing either a book to read or an adult coloring book to do while you sit with her.

And then something big must have happened in her private life, because Claire is an absolute menace even to you one Monday, tearing through the office morale like a hot knife to butter.

You don't dare say a thing, even when she snaps at you later that night for being incompetent, and you just sit and take it.

She doesn't mean it personally.

You know that.

But by the time Thursday rolls around, her attitude hasn't changed, and you've found yourself retreating, becoming as small and invisible as possible in an attempt to spare yourself from Claire’s wrath.

You hear shuffling from where you're curled up on the couch, and you look up, and find Claire downing a shot, a bottle of amber liquid sitting on her desk.

“I know I've been an ass.” She says when she catches your eye.

“You've been stressed.” You excuse.

Claire shakes her head.

“There are better ways of releasing steam.”

“Well what do you usually do?”

You think this must be the first conversation all week that Claire is having civilly.

“Get high. Or have sex.”

Your mouth drops open at her blasé answer.

“And I haven't been able to do either.” She complains.

“Well, er. I could- I could help. If you wanted. To- um. To destress, I- I mean.”

You don't know why those words left your mouth, and the moment they do, you can feel your face heat up.

Sure, you've begun to have the occasional fantasy or wet dream about your boss, but that wasn't the same thing as implying you'd have sex with her.

HR is going to have a field day with you.

You're going to be fired.

You bury your face into your hands, and when Claire gently brushes her fingers against your back, you jump.

You hadn't heard her move.

“Look at me.” She softly says, and you shiver at how low her voice is pitched.

“There's a good girl.” She smiles as you listen, and the pulse of heat that shoots down your spine makes you feel dizzy.

Her hand comes up to cup your face, angling it upwards and forcing you to meet her eyes.

“Do you mean it, baby?” She asks, and you shiver at the pet-name, biting your lip as you grow more aroused. “You'll help mommy destress?”

Your eyes widen at the title Claire has bestowed upon herself, and you flush with embarrassment as the whine you've been fighting to keep down slips out through your mouth and escapes.

Your boss chuckles.

“Such a sweet thing. You had no idea what you were getting yourself into, offering to stay so late with me, did you?”

You frown, confused, despite your ever growing arousal.

“Wh-what do you mean?”

Claire smiles, but it's a sharp thing that causes gooseflesh to erupt along your arms.

“Please, doll. I've seen the way you look at me. And we both know how aware you are of how… Lonely, I have been.”

Her hand reaches out, and she brushes her knuckles gently against your cheek.

“Say yes.”

Her voice is pitched low, and it makes you shiver.

“Say yes to mommy, and I promise, you'll never have to worry about a thing again.”

Perhaps it should be your sign to leave right now, the possessiveness that practically drips from the governor's tone, but all it does is empty your head of thought.

“Yes.” You breathlessly say. “Yes, I'll help mommy destress.”

“Good girl.” She purrs, and when your lips part to allow a moan to tumble out, Claire gently presses against your tongue with two fingers.

When you stay still, frozen and unsure of what the older woman wants you to do, she furrows her brow and withdraws her fingers.

“Have you ever had sex before, honey?”

Immediately you can feel heat rise to your cheeks as you shake your head, shame rising in your throat.

“I- I'm a virgin.” You whisper, tripping over your words. “This is my first time…”

You trail off, embarrassed.

“Oh, sweetheart.” Claire coos, her eyes sparking with something that makes you feel a bit like her prey. “Budge over.” She says.

Mindlessly, you obey, scooting all the way down, and Claire settles back against the arm of the couch, and she lazily smiles at you as she slowly, tantalizingly spreads her legs.

You had no idea a suit skirt could stretch so much.

You had no idea how well it could hide the fact that Claire wasn't wearing any underwear either.

“Teach me how to make you feel good.” You're flooded by a sudden need to please this woman spread out before you, a sudden desire to watch her come undone because of you. “Show me how to touch you.” You beg. “Please.”

Claire chuckles deeply.

“You're going to be so perfect for me, baby.” She husks out, and you can feel how your pussy pulses, leaking wetness against the material of your underwear.

Unlike Claire, you're wearing a pair.

A niggling feeling of regret bothers you.

You wish you were easily accessible for your boss.

You want her to ruin you.

“Come here, honey.” Claire beckons you with a single finger, and you're obedient, crawling until you hover over her.

She reaches her hands up, and oh so gently cups your face with her hands, guiding your head downwards until your lips are just millimeters apart.

One of her thumbs softly brushes over your cheek, moving back and forth in a soothing sweeping motion, and her silvery-blue eyes gaze deep into your own.

The moment stretches, and you grow impatient of waiting, and despite your heart hammering against your ribcage, you close the miniscule gap between your lips and hers.

They're so fucking soft.

Claire isn't your first kiss by any means, but you deeply wish it were.

You're moaning into her mouth like you're a slut, and when Claire enters your own with her tongue, it's all you can do to keep yourself from falling atop of her as your limbs go weak.

Languidly, you make out with your boss, and as you do so, one of her knees makes its way between the apex of your thighs.

When you instinctively buck into the touch, Claire pulls away, and breathlessly laughs at you.

“Remember, doll. This is about mommy, not about you.”

Your head is spinning from the lack of oxygen.

You whimper, and bite your lip.

Her expression softens, and she reaches up to tuck an errant strand of hair behind your ear.

“Didn't mommy say that as long as you're with me, I'll see to all your needs? Make me feel good, and I promise, you'll get a reward, sweet thing.”

You drop your head against her shoulder, and the whine that escapes you causes Claire to reach up and stroke at your hair.

“Let me show you how to touch mommy, baby. Let me show you how she likes to be pleasured.”

It's not fair, you think. No one woman should have the right to say things like that in such a husky sounding voice.

Your pussy throbs.

You lift your head up, and shift your weight, settling back so that you're straddling Claire.

“Please mommy, teach me.” You beg, and the older woman groans at the plain desperation that drips from your tone. “Teach me how to make you scream for your baby.”

At the word ‘scream’, Claire's eyes light up, something that simultaneously sends a shiver of fear through your body, but also a shiver of anticipation.

“You want to make mommy scream, doll? Get off, and I'll show you how.”

Gracelessly you tumble off of Claire and onto the floor, and she shakes her head as she laughs.

“You’re adorable, sweetheart.”

She stands, and as she walks back to her desk, she strips, carelessly leaving her clothes crumbled on the floor.

As she settles back into her leather seat, she spreads her legs wide in a clear order.

Her gaze feels intense as she watches you wobble over to her, before you collapse, dropping to your knees, your legs unable to continue to support your weight.

Your head spins as the scent of Claire’s arousal overwhelms you, and you look up at your boss with wide, pleading eyes.

She chuckles, and her hand comes down to pet your hair, before they tangle and tug at you.

“M-mommy!” You protest. “I still don't know what to do!”

Claire groans, but she doesn't stop guiding you forward.

“You're smart, doll. I'm sure you can figure it out.”

You whimper, but don't protest further, and then the older woman's cunt is directly in your face, and you're powerless as you stick your tongue out hesitantly.

You give her a taste test.

The wetness that is slowly dripping from Claire is a bit salty, but mostly, it just tastes musky.

It isn't bad.

It's just… New.

You give Claire’s pussy a few more tiny little licks, trying to acclimate to her taste, and she tightens her hold on your hair.

“I thought you wanted to make mommy scream.” She bites out, yanking you flush against her pulsing center. “So do it. Mommy needs to relax, and you're going to help.”

Helplessly, you do as Claire commands, and you start lapping at her earnestly.

When she lets out an unrestrained moan above you, you can't help but moan in return, and Claire gasps.

She yanks your head back, her chest heaving slightly, pupils blown wide.

“I never thought you could make such sweet noises, baby.” She breathlessly says.

You feel heat rushing to your face, and Claire's free hand grips your chin when you try to look away.

“Neither did I.” You whisper, ashamed.

Claire tsks.

“None of that now, honey, mommy wants to hear you again. Moan for me.”

Your mouth drops open, and your mind goes blank as you try to process your boss’s demand.

Her grip tightens.

“I said moan for me, bitch.”

It tumbles involuntarily from your mouth, loud and uncontrolled, and Claire's grip on your chin turns painfully.

“Does that turn you on? For mommy to degrade you like the little fucking slut you are?”

The noise you make in response causes Claire’s eyes to glint as she smirks.

“Who knew beneath all that innocence was a whore.” She coos, before jerking your head forward in a clear demand.

You eat her out for what feels like ages, the taste of Claire filling your senses, and you grow progressively lightheaded.

You find your thoughts slipping away as you become utterly focused on not letting one drop of your boss’s wetness to escape your tongue, and you find your hands keeping her legs spread apart as you become more eager in your ministrations.

You feel drunk as Claire begins to make higher and higher pitched noises until finally, she goes so high, it's a shrill thing that your ears can barely withstand, and there's a wetness soaking your face that isn't from how vigorously you had been pleasuring her.

She hasn't told you to stop, though, and you find yourself not wanting to regardless, so you continue to lap at her until she harshly jerks your head away.

“Enough.” She pants, eyes closed, chest heaving. “Enough.”

Your head spins, and you feel dizzy as you stare, memorized by the woman above you.

You open your mouth, aware there's something you want to ask, but you can't seem to conjure enough words in your mind to even speak them aloud.

Silvery-blue eyes open, and the most self satisfied smirk you have ever seen curls at the edges of Claire’s lips.

“How precious.” She murmurs, before sticking her heeled foot out.

You hadn't noticed that despite shedding her clothes, the older woman had kept her shoewear on.

“Why don't you make yourself feel good, and put on a pretty show for mommy, hm?”

You slowly close your mouth, becoming aware it's been hanging open, and give your boss a confused look.

Claire sighs.

“That's right, you really don't have any experience. Could have fooled me, with how well you've made me cum, doll.”

You flush, uncertain if it's from the praise or from the degradation.

You watch as Claire carefully stands, and you're startled when she hisses, her left leg buckling from how loose and relaxed her muscles have become.

“Strip.” Claire orders, her knuckles white from how hard she's clutching at her desk. “And then lay back on the couch.”

You scramble, tugging your shirt off as you simultaneously attempt to undo the button of your pants, and you wind up tripping, falling to the floor.

Claire's laughter causes your face to heat up.

“Looks like my baby needs my help, hm?” She giggles, toeing off her heels so that she can walk properly.

You whine, and can feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes with embarrassment.

“Aw, sweetheart.” Claire pouts. “Mommy thinks you're cute for being so eager. No need to be so sad over it.”

You whine again, but slowly force yourself to sit up.

“Mommy.” You whimper. “Jus’ wanted to feel good.”

The older woman’s amused expression visibly softens, and warm hands reach for you.

You stand with Claire's help, and she almost reverently helps you undress, gently kissing each newly revealed piece of skin.

“Look at this beautiful body, honey. Just so perfect for me.”

Unable to bear the compliment, you choose instead to bury your head against the upper part of Claire's chest.

She coos, and runs her fingers through your hair.

“Oh, sweet thing. Is my baby feeling shy?”

You nod against her, noticing the soft smell of vanilla.

You've never noticed it before.

You had thought it was maybe the air refresher in Claire's office, but no.

It's her.

Your head spins.

And you're so wet.

Claire's laugh rumbles against you, and she easily guides you towards the couch.

You only grow steadily redder as she pulls your legs apart, kissing her way up from one ankle, and then kisses her way back down the other, over and over until you're squirming with your need.

“Mommy, please!” You cry.

Claire groans, eyes fluttering shut for a few moments, before she pulls you close, hooking your legs over her shoulders.

When she noses at your clit, your hands find her hair, and she tsks.

“No, doll. I won't reward you if you pull at my hair.”

Reluctantly, you release your grip, and bury your fingers against the cushion of the couch instead.

“Good girl.” Claire praises, and you moan softly in response.

When her tongue presses against you, you shudder at the new sensation.

It's wet and warm and slightly rough, and–

“Oh, fuck!” You cry out. “Fuck, mommy!”

Claire's hands harshly grip at the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, making you whimper, but she continues to lavish her tongue over your clit, and you begin to squirm in earnest.

You've masterbated plenty of times, and have a few toys in your bedside drawer, but that is nothing compared to the older woman’s touch.

Within a few minutes, you're already near orgasm, and you chase the release, fighting the urge to bring your hands back up to tangle into Claire's hair.

And then right when you're about to reach that high, the moment before the waves of pleasure can overwhelm you, she pulls away, and you loudly sob.

“No, please.” You gasp.

Claire smirks, and you whimper at how lustful her gaze is, at how your wetness glistens on the bottom half of her face.

“You want to cum, baby?” She mocks you, pouting. “You want mommy to let you feel good? Then beg for it. I need to hear my cute little doll ask for permission first.”

You whimper.

“Please, mommy.” You can feel tears start to gather with how badly you want this. “Please let your baby cum, I wanna cum for you, I wanna feel good, please, please, please!”

“Hm…” Claire hums.

“Please.” The tears start to roll down your cheeks. “I wanna to cum, mommy. I want you to make me cum, please.”

You let out a sob of desperation when a single digit finds your swollen clit, and lightly begins to circle it.

“Please.” You whisper, your voice getting caught in your throat.

For a moment, you think your boss is going to deny you, and you open your mouth to continue to beg, when instead you gasp, two of Claire’s fingers suddenly stretching you open.

You let out a high pitch noise when she curls the digits, pleasure burning through you, and you buck your hips.

“Mommy, mommy, mommy!” You chant, unable to form any other thought, let alone words.

“Cum for me, princess.” Claire softly orders, and as if your body was designed to obey her every desire, you convulse, a scream tearing it's way from your throat as she continues to finger fuck you, the gushing wetness weeping from your pussy causing a squelching noise, and you writhe as you ride the high.

“Fuck, baby.” Claire groans. “I want you to come for me again.”

You squirm desperately, the aftershocks still pulsing through you, but Claire is stronger than your now limp body, and she thumbs at your clit, sending electric waves up your spine, causing your back to arch painfully.

“FUCK!” You cry out, unable to control your volume, and you can barely hear Claire's responding moan over the static in your ears as a new wave of ecstasy crashes over you.

You're gasping for air with how it steals your breath away, and when Claire collapses on top of you, you gladly welcome it, despite how it further suffocates your lungs of oxygen.

She smells so good. You think as you start to come back to your senses.

The scent of vanilla is still prominent, but it's now mixed with the smell of Claire’s sweat.

Somehow, it's more appealing.

The smell of sex still hangs heavy in the air, and you throb as your body unfairly grows more aroused again.

“Mommy.” You whisper.

Claire groans, burying her head further against your neck.

“You smell so good, princess.” She says. “And you look so beautiful when I fuck your brains out.”

A whimper catches in the back of your throat.

Claire finally moves, shifting until she's sitting upright, and you don't think she's ever looked as enthralling as does now.

Her cheeks are flushed, and you can clearly see faint freckles that are usually hidden under a layer of makeup that Claire must have sweated off, and her hair has gone from stick straight to gentle waves, a halo of frizz framing her face.

You lose yourself in her eyes, at how she smiles so tenderly as she helps you up and to the private attached bathroom in her office.

“Let's get cleaned up, doll.” She says, and you grin goofily at her.

Your head is still spinning.

She giggles, a light sound that makes you join in once a light snort causes her to double over.

“You're so cute.” She smiles, and you obediently spread your legs when she taps your thigh.

She gently runs the wash cloth in her hand over the sticky residue of your arousal, and you flinch every time she passes over your clit.

“You’re still so sensitive.” She breathes out. “Did mommy not satisfy you, doll? Do you want mommy to keep going until it hurts for me to?”

“I- ah!” You cry out when Claire firmly swipes the cloth over your swollen bud. “I just want to be good.”

Claire peers up at you, and you hold your breath as she weighs your words.

“Next time then, maybe.” She decides, and you aren't sure if your shoulders slump with relief or disappointment.

She finishes cleaning you up, before moving on to herself, telling you to wait as she does so.

You watch as her back muscles move with her motions, and you can't resist the urge to kiss them, to nip at them.

Who knew the governor would have such fairly well defined muscles?

“Baby.” Claire warns.

“Mmm… Mommy.” You reply, before darting the tip of your tongue out against her warm skin.

“Baby, if you want to go home, you'll stop.”

“But you're so pretty. I can't help it.”

Claire turns around, shaking her head.

“You're adorable, honey. Come on, let's get dressed so we can head home.”

Claire has to help you into your shirt and pants, and you don't notice when she pockets your underwear instead of giving it back to you when she spots it under the couch.

Before you leave, your boss insists on watching you drink a glass of water, predicting you'll be too tired to do so once she drops you off at home, expressing how important it is to her that you take care of yourself.

By the time you get to her car, you're stumbling with exhaustion, beginning to crash as the endorphin high wears off.

You can't keep your eyes open once she starts driving, and when you let out a huge yawn, Claire glances at you.

“Go to sleep, baby.” She soothingly says. “I'll wake you up when we get home.”

You're used to listening when she asks you of something, and so you don't think twice as you finally allow your eyes to stay close, and you drift off, Claire's warm hand on your thigh.

[sir-yeehaw-paws]

i keep thinking about ocelot takarazuka i dont really see the influence like he just looks like a middle age guy with masc features manner and fashion so what do you think the artist actually meant? there's nothing feminine about ocelot like how does the "is that a man or woman" thing play in here cause i don't see it. He's not like raiden or raikov. He's just a guy 🧍‍♂️so how does the all female theatre thing apply

Hello Anon! Full, immediate disclosure, this answer is messy and disjointed. I probably don't even answer the question your asking end of the day, but I'll try my best.

I believe this is the post you're wondering about?

As I said in this earlier post I'm not a Japanese speaker, so I have to go on interpretation, and what has been offered by the translations available. I can't help but think there is going to be some sort of nuance missing as a result, but I'll do my best.

To start, I think you and I might have a slightly different view on masculine and feminine-to me the two concepts are pretty interchangeable, but I do understand where you're (probably, I don't know you personally after all) are coming from and that, no, Ocelot doesn't have many traditional 'feminine' characteristics.

You'll note that in the original post, Shinkawa refers to getting inspiration from the idea of 'women in their 40's (the age Ocelot almost is in MGSV)' and 'long, flashing eyelashes'. (My interpretation here is that by this, he means in the way long eyelashes that are considered sexy have an eye-catching flow to them. Sort of like how we can say 'fluttering lashes'. Intended to draw a person's gaze in, and command their presence).

Doing some cursory research tells me that the Takarazuka Revue (because Takarazuka is also a city in Hyōgo Prefecture, Japan.) is an all-female musical troupe located within that same city. Started in 1913, by Ichizō Kobayashi.

(I also got distracted by this version that is a performance of Casino Royale, so there's that)

Anyway, ahem.

"Kobayashi believed that it was the ideal spot to open an attraction of some kind that would boost train ticket sales and draw more business to Takarazuka. Since Western song and dance shows were becoming more popular and Kobayashi considered the kabuki theater to be old and elitist."

Throughout the article, there is also this;

"Takarazuka has had a profound influence on the history of anime and manga, especially shōjo manga.[27][28] Osamu Tezuka, a highly influential manga creator, grew up in the town of Takarazuka. His mother knew many of the Takarazuka actresses, and as a child he knew them and watched many of their performances"

I can assume that the performances have a lot of influence on media, and it's not uncommon for MGS to take inspiration. There could be an entire article on the things MGS takes inspiration from, even outside the most obvious like Escape from New York, character model bases, etc.

Cycling back to the original point, (there is also a video that exact post comes from, but I don't have the link on hand, on YouTube *no translations). I think that it's entirely possible Shinkawa took 'loose' inspiration, or a little more. I can see why and how he might've based Ocelot's look on the idea. (Loose shirt, tight pants, scarf open neck). But there is also the element of which Takarazuka is a performance, more than anything.

It's acting. Playing. Something Ocelot does all the time. Half of his time on screen, he's putting on some kind of performance. While this is something he does the least in MGSV, that never fully changes 100%. (And after all, he's also hypnotized for most of the plot). So there's a counter argument to be had that this is one of his greatest performances pre-MGS4. But that's a different post.

Ocelot presents/is masculine. But, he has longer eyelashes, his clothes are a little more 'free' than the standard military garb when he's allowed to choose his own outfit. (Again this is specifically MGSV Ocelot, though there's something to be said about his chosen attire being such a sharp 3 piece later on).

At the end of the day, maybe a way you can look at it is to say that, Shinkawa looked to Takarazuka when designing MGSV Ocelot to give him a sort of 'flow' to his looks. He was attracted to the idea of taking elements from Takarazuka, because Ocelot is a performer, and he sees some possibility for feminine additions in his looks *or* might've thought it more 'fitting' than Kabuki.

But again, I don't know if we see fully masculine and feminine the same way, (and maybe Shinkawa personally associates long eyelashes with sexy women; or women made up to look like men but with longer lashes) I can't know for sure myself. I think you would need a native or very good Japanese speaker to interpret it fully.

If I was to offer you a personal opinion-I can see it. I can see where there's a draw that one might have with the look, and where Shinkawa might've gotten said inspiration. But I am not entirely certain how to put that into words either? My perspective isn't going to be 1-to-1 of yours either.

Maybe someone else can interpret all this better than me, I definitely feel as if I've not done this justice at all. Because at the end of the day, I don't see a hard divide in masculine and feminine in Ocelot, but I think that you, Anon, see him as 100% masculine. But again, I can't speak for you and I am not sure.

[crystal-lillies]

how was the 13th doctor robbed ?

Well. This is gonna be a long one anon.

For starters, she had a shorter episode count for each of her series (two consisting of 10 episodes, her last only had 6!!! SIX!!! and even with the ending specials that's 3 more, but they did not deal with the third season much at all. That story barely had anything.) Each season since the start of NuWho has been 13 episodes plus Christmas specials, give or take extra specials depending. (10th Doctor had FOUR extra specials after the end of his last season. Plus he showed up in Day of the Doctor, so he's been extra spoiled). Just think of how much more could have been done with more episodes!

She was also robbed of the traditional Christmas specials, which was a staple of EVERY NuWho season before her, and GUESS WHO GOT ONE RIGHT AWAY when RTD came back? (13 got a couple New Years specials which are fine, but she will be the ONLY multi season NuWho Doctor to not have a Christmas special, and that's just wrong. The Christmas specials are iconic and holiday time classics and always focus on familial bonds the Doctor makes and 13 is missing that).

The 13th Doctor's tenure also had to endure COVID, which isn't on the BBC or the showrunners obv, but it still detracts from what she could have had that the past Doctors had and what the future Doctors will have.

The 10th and 11th Doctors particularly had oodles of extra content like shorts and mini features that was nowhere to be found for the 13th Doctor. (In fairness, 12 didn't get as many extra bonus things also, but 12 had full seasons and Christmas specials, including one of the best ones with River Song).

And one of the most egregious forms of theft was from Jodie Whittaker herself. She is an incredible actress and she was hardly given the space to fully go as hard as she could. If you've ever seen the Antigone performance she gives...it's stunning. Legendary. Raw. She is a brilliant actress so she was able to bring some of that into certain moments of the 13th doctor's tenure, but there are painfully few epic moments of 13 in the same way there are so many of the 10th, 11th, and 12th doctors.

Also she was robbed, again with the shorter episode count, of breathing room and development with her companions. Short season runs (10 or less episodes) are So So Lean, and they really hurt so much not just from Doctor Who but the Netflix ATLA, Percy Jackson, Marvel and Star Wars shows, etc. We could have had more development time with Yaz, especially with her feelings toward 13, have them properly shown a lot more, rather than having Mandip and Jodie carrying everything on their backs with little add ins and crumbs. Plus Graham and Ryan! And poor Dan got shafted as the new Flux companion. He got so much less time to really get fleshed out and form a bond with 13. The show even makes a point of that! He's closer to Yaz than anyone.

And 13 was also robbed of one of the most important things of all: passing on her wardrobe to the next doctor.

RTD can say what he likes but he was a coward and an asshole for not having David wear Jodie's costume. He can't in one breath claim to be treading lightly about crossdressing to be respectful (when it's Perfectly Fine to have the POC male villain rock the wardrobe not a half hour before, weird) and in the same breath have Rose Noble's deadname used multiple times in the first TenThree special.

Apologies about the ramble, anon, but more or less, those are many of the reasons why I feel 13 has been robbed in ways her predecessors and her successors were/are not. (I've said these things before and I have said them again, and I'll probably keep saying them.) I genuinely hope this helps you understand some of the lingering feelings of disappointment.

[polarisbibliotheque]

Hii!! so i just want to say first that i love love the way you write dmc fanfics. The way you just understand them, makes all their action seem like something they'd do. And well, if it doesn't bother you, may I ask a few advices on how to write Vergil, young and current? I'm trying to write a story and I think your input would be very helpful since you're probably the most accurate Vergil writer there is. Thank you andI just want to say that your fics helped me out a lot mentally. Thank you for bringing the characters to life 🫶

You just left me floored, loved to death, giggling like a 7 year old in public, and I thank you wholeheartedly for that 🖤🖤

First of all, thank you SO much for your words - and wow, I am absurdly flattered that you think so highly of me as a writer, really! I mean, I'm just writing my crazy shenanigans here, I don't expect much hahahaha words like yours make my day and, honestly, you made my whole week!

I am SO happy what I write helped you mentally. I do write to help myself in that regard too, and seeing I was able to have an impact on someone else, it makes everything worth it. That's what Dante would have wanted :')

Asking me for advice doesn't bother me AT ALL! Feel free to ask anytime you want it - by all means I see myself as someone so good as to give advice, but I've gained some experience and it's always good to share! Maybe I'll say something that makes sense to you!

So, without further ado, a few advices on writing Vergil - young and current - down the cut 'cause I haven't written it yet, but knowing myself, I know it's gonna be big :)

(spoiler: it's huge *puts on fool hat and jingles away*)

I sprinkled some things here and there about Dante and Vergil on this blog, but I think it'll be nice putting it all together in one place!

I recently got an ask about which MBTI personality I think it's Dante and Vergil, and there's a LOT on BOTH of their characters in there. You can find it here.

(I won't repeat the things I wrote there, 'cause oh boy this one's got bigger than I expected)

But oh, Verge, this little emotionally constipated goth man *sighs* he's Mr. Darcy from Pride and Prejudice. I'm not even joking.

But all of that aside, I do keep a few things in mind when writing him. I've said before I have many similar personality traits with him and I think it makes it easier for me to write this little bitch (affectionate).

Vergil is pretty much shaped by his trauma. You could argue Dante is as well, but differently from his twin brother, Vergil never really found acceptance. Yes, the twins lived through the same thing but the fact that Eva managed to save Dante and not Vergil is crucial to both characters.

Dante has survivor's guilt and depression from all that happened. He can't keep a deep connection to save his life, 'cause he keeps everyone at bay - he thinks his demonic blood is a curse and he is the reason everyone perishes. So it's best if people keep away from him.

But even with that, Dante loves being around people. It's what makes him so fond of his human part and, in my opinion, it's what made Dante healthier than Vergil. He seeks connection and humanity, he wants to use his strength to protect the weak - like Eva once used hers and sacrificed herself to protect and save him. That is crucial to Dante's character.

Vergil, in the other hand, believed for a LONG time he was left for dead. That his mother chose to save his brother because she loved Dante more and Vergil was left to die. He was left all alone in the cold, in a cemetery filled with demons who slaughtered him in quite a gruesome manner. If he hadn't find the rage, strength and power inside of himself that day, he wouldn't have survived.

Vergil learned he is on his own, his own family didn't love him (even if he was wrong, that's the impression he had for a LONG time) and the only one he could count on was himself. That made him withdraw completely: be wary of people and their intentions, shut himself to the world, allow only strength and power to come through his personality and keep his vulnerabilities and feelings shut down in the darkest and most protected place of himself because if he didn't, that could be his death.

Vergil didn't learn to protect the weak, because he wasn't protected when he was weak. He learned to survive, because when he needed the most, no one was there and his own will was the only thing that could save him. If he had given up, he would've died - no one would come, no knight in shiny armor, no powerful protecting demon, no sacrificing loving human mother.

✨That's why he's an asshole✨

Hahahaha jokes aside, that's why he's so laser focused on power, I think. When he was younger (around DMC 3), he finds Dante again and there's a hatred for his brother because he believed he was left to die and wasn't loved as much as Dante (as always, our red devil being a clueless himbo who just got lucky to be around Eva, poor guy). He wants to prove he is better than Dante, that he was worth something, that he too was worth saving - even more than his brother.

To some extent, up until that moment in DMC 3, Vergil is better than Dante (regarding power). He's got a lot of knowledge and control over his demonic heritage, things Dante didn't even know he could do. But Vergil is so blinded by his hurt and in so much pain he can only deem himself worthy if he beats Dante down, if he wins, if he gets all the power in the world.

I don't think he ever wanted to kill Dante - he just wanted to win. Like a kid, going "see, mom, dad, I win, I'm worth as much as Dante!!" - quite tragic, really.

With his power thing, it's not a desire for power for it's own sake, but as an armor. Given everything that happened to him, that Vergil has this thing of "only I can protect myself and I can count only on myself to save my life", it's very understandable that his logic takes him to the path of "if I am the most powerful being in this world, I will never bleed and I will never hurt again".

So, even if he says on the outside he is power hungry because he wants to honor his demonic heritage and humans are weak, on the inside it's actually that he's trying to carve his heart out from himself so he won't feel nothing and stop hurting - as well as gain all the power he can so NO ONE can make him feel scared, vulnerable, weak and powerless like he did that night when no one appeared to help him.

Vergil hides his pain under a mask of cruelty and hubris - since being honest means being vulnerable to him and that is something he's got a deep aversion to.

Current Verge has dragged himself out of Hell in a crumbling body. If Dante hadn't "killed" him as Nelo Angelo, he probably would've never been free of his shackles with Mundus, but once again he was left for dead (even if not intentionally, I know Dante would have gone through all the layers of Hell to bring his brother back, but VERGIL doesn't know that). Once again, Vergil had to muster all his will, his power, his demonic heritage to drag himself out of that godforsaken place.

He didn't know Nero was his son, he just took Yamato back 'cause he didn't really had time to explain everything that was going on. Vergil was on the brink of death, it's not like he could think logically about everything he was doing and weight pros and cons. He needed to survive. That's what he does.

It's only when he separated his human and demon parts that he came to realize a bunch of things - because Vergil never really had time to do anything else other than surviving; and thinking too much, going over your feelings and past trauma, doesn't do anything good when you're stuck in survival mode (been there, done that).

After he gets both of his parts together and goes back to being Vergil, he knows a lot more than he did before, because V allowed his heart to feel and to process all that pain he didn't allow himself to process before - because if he did, he would probably break, like V himself was falling to pieces.

He knows his mother loved him. He knows it wasn't Dante's fault. He knows it was all a tragedy and no one is to blame - he knows he wasn't left there to die: Eva died trying to get to him. It honestly changes everything he's been thinking for the past 40 (if I'm not wrong...?) years.

That's why he wonders, if he was in Dante's place all those years ago, would that change something? And honestly, it probably would. Because everything Vergil did was from a wound he couldn't bring himself to heal from that fateful night.

Therefore, current Vergil is a lot more accepting to his feelings - but internally only, he won't let it show. He also understands his thing of wanting to surpass Dante wasn't his brother's fault and it's something he has to work on.

Not saying he won't be a little bitch sparring with Dante all the time and keeping score over stupid stuff, because that's EXACTLY how these two function - but now Vergil is fueled by healthy sibling rivalry and fun instead of inferiority complex and pain/hatred.

Vergil's path is a lot similar to Anakin from Star Wars: fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate and hate leads to the Dark Side of the Force. If the Jedi Council had understood Anakin's upbringing as a slave, his deep love for his mother - and for all the beings on the Universe, I argue, because he did want to become a Jedi to free all slaves - his overflowing empathy, his deep feelings, his love for Padmé, etc., Anakin wouldn't find himself vulnerable to the grooming of an older man who saw all this and took the opportunity to twist it all to make him feel pain, fear, anger and hate.

If Qui-Gon Jin had trained Anakin he would've never turned to the Dark Side, I will DIE on this hill and fight EVERYONE, even if I love Obi-Wan

Star Wars ramblings aside, that's Vergil in a nutshell. And I think with him older, currently, he can finally see all of that, because he had a chance to be just demonic, as Urizen, and just human, as V - noticing how everything that happened to him shaped him to feel pain, fear, anger and hate, doing desperate things to protect himself and feel safe.

I argue Vergil hasn't felt safe for a single day in his whole lifetime, and that matters. Because in the end, that's how I write him: a wounded stray dog who knows only pain and hatred from the outside world.

If you try to approach him, he'll first bare his teeth, bark and try to bite you - not because he's mean, but because he's stuck in survival mode and that's his first response to ANYTHING. Just like a wounded stray, you have to approach carefully, offer kindness and show him you're not there to hurt him.

And just like a stray dog, he'll eventually melt and accept that kindness - he just has NO IDEA how that feels like.

✨What about Nero's mother, I hear you ask?✨

Hahahaha so that one I have some doubts myself. I often imagine two scenarios and I still haven't chose one of them to satisfy my heart HAHAHAHA

That might be me projecting, of course, but because of ALL THAT, I don't see Vergil as being open to relationships and one night stands - he takes things too seriously, and that's part of his character.

He either decided to try it out empirically with a one night stand with someone who was kind to him and he wanted to understand that kind of experience to understand himself better and out of curiosity (look, I know this sounds crazy, but that's exactly what I did on my first kiss with a super random guy at a party and I was like "oh, well, that's not for me, I'm gonna stick to kissing people I love, this sucks" and it took a weight off my shoulders)

oooooor he was treated with kindness for the first time in his life and that broke him for a while, he melted under a soft touch and gentle words and couldn't resist trying out new experiences he only had by proxy from his books - and when he woke up next morning, he was reminded how broken he is, how powerless, how not worthy of love not even from his own mother, and left because that would lead to nowhere. Because of him. Because he wasn't worth it - she probably fell for his looks, his heritage, his outside, but when she knew his inside she would run in horror.

Again, Vergil has a lot of issues, the poor man.

When I'm writing Nemesis, we have young Vergil - laser focused on power, proud as fuck, stepping over anything and everything to get what he wants, because life favors the ones who survive. The weak ones should die, that's the law of the jungle and he won't waste his time saving those who can't do it for themselves like he did for himself. When he sees the reader struggling to keep fighting him to protect others, he sees not only Eva, but himself in a will of a survivor who will go through excruciating pain to save themselves. He values that and admires that - admiring the reader as an enemy and having utmost respect.

When he's older, he's trying. And he has a LOT to learn - but his partner has to understand he's the stray dog who knows nothing but harshness. Vergil is quiet, methodical and disciplined, knowing how to live only with himself as company. But now he has a family: he has his brother back, he has a son, he has the whole crew to live alongside him. That's new, harrowing and comforting at the same time.

So, when in doubt, think about how a wounded animal would react - and how you would have to act to be able to approach and help.

Vergil, differently from Dante, is forever stuck in survival mode and has forsaken his humanity so he could keep going. As a younger man, he's ruthless and won't spare efforts to get what he wants because he is desperately trying to not feel vulnerable and worthless as he usually feels. As an older man, he's trying - in his own stupid Mr. Darcy way - to recover, to understand himself better and finally heal that horrible wound in his heart.

But of course. He is still proud, observing, regal and prone to overkill here and there and showing off his skills. These are all inherent to his personality.

(Also. Vergil enjoys some dumb fun sometimes - he only lets it show a tiny little bit when competing with Dante over ANYTHING. If Dante says he can eat a cheeseburger in three bites, Vergil will go above and beyond to eat it in two. Everyone thinks he's just being stupidly competitive with Dante and wants to win against his brother no matter what, but that's just his way of being fun)

Phew! That's quite a lot on the blue devil! Hahaha it isn't everything I keep in mind - of course there are the other things like him being reserved, more on the quiet side, intellectual, methodical, a lover of beauty (like literature, philosophy, poems, etc.), stupidly independent... But I think those traits are more "worldwide" known.

If you take all his trauma and how it affected him into consideration, I think, his personality follows easily. You understand a lot better how he would react in certain situations - in the end, that's what being a writer is all about: creating characters and watching how all of them react to situations given their backgrounds and baggage!

I'm so sorry it's such a HUGE answer, but I do hope it helps. There's a lot to unpack and I didn't want to just "oi, he's a traumatized asshole, that's it" - because you miss the nuances if you just work with that perspective.

Thanks a lot for asking, though, I had fun writing this little essay on Vergil, the man, the myth, the legend HAHAHAHAHAHA

Hope you have a nice weekend and have fun writing!! If you need any advice, even on writing in general, you can always ask me again! As you can see, I'm happy to help and I do love sharing what I know xD

[luimagines]

Headcanon that Legend’s ears are actually slightly longer than everyone else’s because of his rabbit form!

Ooooooo!!!

I like this idea. His nose wiggles too!

[mixelation]

Are there restrictions on how the fight starts? I feel like if I shot most Naruto characters with a gun before they knew I was attacking them and without them realizing I was about to send an insanely fast projectile toward them, I could do pretty well against most of them. Of course there are exceptions, because not all characters would die from a shot to a vital organ. I can get a gun because I'm American. Sorry if this is a boring answer

who is the strongest naruto character you could defeat

you know. somehow. i forgot about guns. that's on me. however i cannot award any points because you failed to name anyone

[ohbo-ohno]

BO HI I JUST READ THE LIL RESPONSE YOU MADE TO MY PRIMAL PLAY VAMPIRE GHOAP AND THE BRAINROT IS GOING STRONGGGGG

okay so I also saw that other post where anon mentioned shifter!price’s fuzzy little tail and his ears and that made me think maybe there’s potential there?? like for fluff absolutely but also some nsfw?? fluff could be price just needs some comfort from his little darling and nsfw could be reader discovering just how sensitive his ears and tail are, abusing that knowledge, and getting punished??

Bo I do not need more brainrot ily

-👑

im so glad you liked it!!! also i actually really kinda struggle to not just. giggle when thinking about bear shifters with tails. the ears? totally normal, if a little cute. but imagining a big motherfucker like PRICE with an itty bitty little brown tail cracks me up for some reason lol

i love the image of reader tugging on price's tail playfully and getting a far more intense punishment than she'd expected (worth it to hear price nearly yelp). she giggles when she scares him and he nearly tackles her, growling and hiding a grin in her hair while he rumbles about teachin' you a lesson

price wants you to rub his ears, will outright ask you to. he looves the comforting rubbing, the perfect pressure from your hands. gets stress headaches sometimes and will come to you, fall right in your lap and put your hands right where he wants them. moans like you're stroking his cock because you know just how to make him feel better <3

[ali-croft7]

I have a question about your OC, Joan. Judging by how Ratau and Ratoo were part of her cult I assume she was the previous bearer of the Red Crown, with Ratau being the next vessel after her. So how did Joan’s reign end? What was her downfall seeing that she’s more of a villain?

There are two reasons.

One was her own ambition. Joan's goal was to eradicate the Old Faith's devotion from the lands, making the bishops vulnerable and easy to kill. In other words, a big crusade.

She created an army of crusaders to take over the Old Faith's temples. She did it with Leshy's, but she couldn't finish her quest. Shamura frustated all her plans by turning more than the half of her army against her... and killed in the process.

Although Joan came back to life and TOWW had commanded her to retire and protect his temple, she finally refused and pulled the Red Crown out of her head.

At that moment she realized why she wouldn't taste victory anyways, the second reason of her downfall: the prophecy. She always thought of it as a false hope, a tool from the bishops even. The only "truth" she believed was that she was chosen by a god and nothing could stop her.

She went alone to fight Shamura for revenge. She knew she wouldn't make it, but she would die the way she wanted to.

[hrokkall]

Why do you think Swordmachines head is so long. I think he has some sort of sharpening device in there.

More space to kiss. Hope this helps!

[andreal831]

Is it just me or was it super problematic when Klaus named Marcel.

He knew this boy for five seconds and then decides he has a right to name him. He learns that Marcel's mother is dead but asks no other questions about his family. Did he have aunts, uncles? Did he even want to be taken in by the Mikaelsons? Why couldn't he come up with his own name? He was old enough to make that decision. It would allow him some kind of control and ownership over himself after having none at all for his entire life. Even the fact that the writers didn't allow his mother to name him so that Klaus could do it, asserting some kind of ownership over Marcel. Klaus names him after a Roman god, completely erasing Marcel's culture/heritage.