#goddamn mastermind

[mx-lamour]

I noticed a new detail in I, Strahd that has me screaming.

So I'm doing a critical writing essay on the way that P. N. Elrod uses the first-person perspective in I, Strahd to enhance the narrative, with Strahd himself as, you know, the unreliable narrator of his own life (which just... mmm! It's so good).

And I'm just going back through the book to look for the page number where he says, "That's what I told myself, anyway."

But, I then found this instead:

You would spill my blood, armsman?

HOLD. THE F**K. ON.

armsman???

So I rifle back through the pages, because that is not what he said. That's not the quote. It's Commander. It's "You would spill my blood, Commander?"

And I find it. And I'm right.

OOGH.

Oh, does it hurt.

Strahd is removing himself from Alek in this moment. He's taking him down already in his mind. Trying to make Alek less important, so that it's less of a blow to himself when he kills him, just a moment later.

Commander is a title, and one of respect. It shows that Alek occupies an important position. And even that, I realize now, was a point of distance, because the two of them often do call each other by their given names. When Strahd was in danger of assassination, Alek yelled "Strahd!" multiple times, which is very personal. When they were out on tour, dealing with the local burgomasters, Alek got perhaps a little too excited and Strahd chided him by just quietly saying his name, "Alek."

When he called Alek "Commander", Strahd was hanging over the edge of a cliff to grab his hand, almost ready to die himself if Alek fell. Alek was in danger of death. In that moment, Strahd chose to focus on the fact that he might lose a leader in his ranks, rather than a close personal friend. It was a little bit of distance, so that he could focus on the task in front of him. To keep his head in that unexpected crisis.

When Strahd calls him "armsman", though... Alek is now faceless. He has been stripped of name. He has been stripped of rank. He has been stripped of all personal attachment. Because that is what Strahd needed to do in order to complete the task ahead of him.

Alek has also just stabbed him in the chest, when Strahd inaccurately recalls that moment, and they are both in shock. Given a chance, Alek would never have done this. "Only a drop or two," he had answered, dangling from the cliff, "if it spares the rest, my lord." (Alek follows his lead in this act of distancing. "Didn't have to, my lord," he murmurs this time.) It can't be Alek, so this is just another soldier. This is just another fight. It's just another war.

So, Strahd thinks of him as "armsman" here, to avoid a truly devastating layer of grief.

Neither of us had a choice. That's what I told myself anyway.

The quote I was looking for is on page 137. One page before all that.

[humblefryingpan]

(Drv3 spoilers)

Tsumugi managing to frame someone in such a way that the person she framed believed her?? What a diva, I hate her (lovingly)

Imagine Shuichi having to live with the fact that he led Kaede to her execution, because even Kaede agreed with him. Only to learn he was wrong about everything.

She never killed anyone, and the actual killer had been sat helping him figure it out, in such a way that she never pushed him too hard and made herself suspicious

[mmelete]

holy shit, everybody was totally right. Currently drafting the cringest, most self-indulgent of self-indulgent modern au fanfictions ever and yet I'm grinning, twirling my hair, kicking my feet on my bed at goddamn 3 in the morning as I write about my blorbo texting his friend about the newest hunger games book. This is so freeing.

[halles-comet]

My friend who likes musicals but has yet to discover my full crazy: oh is this hadestown?

Me who just slammed off the bootleg of “mastermind” from helluva boss some finnish 17 year old put uploaded to spotify as a 3 minute podcast the second she got in my car: sure

[jay-draws-gays]

So we all know Draddy (courtesy of moi), but what about

Big “MILF” Mama

And

Twink Jitsu

[cloudbatcave]

Paizo said what if your rogue racket was just dogshit. Hope you chose a decent ancestry and feats unrelated to it, you dumb slut!

[charybdiscreations]

It's a shitty image bc I'm not done with it yet but I was drawing my dnd character (Lawful Evil Mastermind Rogue) and I realized the awful truth that if he were a character in media other people consumed he would DEFINITELY be a Tumblr sexy man the speed at which he'd be lil meow meow'd is frankly concerning

[hotvintagepoll]

Peter Lorre (The Maltese Falcon, Arsenic and Old Lace, Casablanca)—to me he DEFINES scrungle hes the first person i think of every time the term comes up! i want to fold him up like a paper accordion and put him in my pocket. guy that spawned a million voice artists and impersonators. they made a ghost version of him for halloween cereal staple boo berry. bewitched by his nervous mania and tooth gap <3 (for the purposes of propaganda im linking a photo from his extremely short appearance in muscle beach party bc ive been obsessed w it for years and i couldnt find any video for it :/ anyway imagine youre frankie avalon spending the whole movie battling a bodybuilder faction thats taking over your beach and your girl and then you find out this fucking guy is their mastermind mystery leader and hes stronger than all the bodybuilders combined. like Huh. What.)

Elsa Lanchester (The Bride of Frankenstein, Witness for the Prosecution, Mary Poppins)—Surely somebody's already submitted Elsa Lanchester for this right? Right??? Because her scrungle levels are OFF THE CHARTS in literally everything. The way she's Katy Nanna straight-up refusing to spend another minute with Jane and Michael Banks because she has DIGNITY thank you very much. The way she's Mary Goddamn Shelley stuck listening to Lord Byron mansplaining literature like "ha ha maybe even YOUR little monster story will be published" and she shoots back "It *WILL* be published, *I* think!!!" in the most bright-as-nails fuck-you-Byron voice imaginable. The way she's a nurse herding her lawyer charge through a sordid love-triangle case and we gradually realize the real love story was between her and the lawyer all along. The way she's a clandestine witch casting hexes on telephones, the way she's a princess's PA and helps an old friend steal an invitation card, the way she's a cleaning lady who goes to Germany to personally assassinate Hitler, the way she's a posh village worthy trying to impress Danny Kaye, the way ERRGHH i could go on just look at her scrungle.

These are the the semifinals for the scrungly little guy contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you’re confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Peter Lorre:

he's pretty much the archetype of the scrungly little guy. the blueprint. the example by which all other scrungly little guys are judged

The entire point of his iconic role in Casablanca (apart from introducing the central plot mcguffin) was to be LITTLE and SCRUNGLY to make Bogie look even cooler. And Maggot in Corpse Bride - the littlest scrungliest guy in that film - was a parody of him.

Between his big eyes, wheezy laugh, short stature, and expressive faces, Peter Lorre achieved icon status as the scrungliest, littlest guy in Hollywood. His scrungly little guy energy was often contrasted with the more typical masculinity of the leading man, but whether this contrast was meant to make him seem especially sinister, comedic, or pathetic, it always left an unforgettable impression!

The perfect sniveling character actor, “scrungly” is the first word that comes to mind when I think of him.

I'm sure somebody else has already submitted him (if not then ???) but he's a cute kind of scrungly little guy. He's got a distinctive nasal voice with an accent that is instantly recognizable and often imitated. His later horror movies are so much fun, especially when he's playing off of Vincent Price. He's so good at being unhinged, creepy, or manic, but also pathetic and sympathetic.

Classic scrungly hollywood golden age little guy who was friends with Humphrey Bogart and still played some of the wettest most sniveling characters ever committed to celluloid (complimentary) there is a deep despair and darkness in many of his characters that enhances his scrungly

To be clear, I am one of those people who will argue that Lorre is one of the most underrated film actors, but the POINT is that he's also just a scrungly delight. A delightfully pocket-sized man. Somehow endearing even when he is being actively amoral (see esp. Casablanca. "I found myself much more reasonable!") The faces he makes while doing the Russian cossack dance with a butter knife between his teeth in Silk Stockings make me laugh just thinking about them.

Wikipedia described his typical characters as "timidly devious", lots of weird little villains and evil sidekicks that are pretty horrifying but still manage to be sort of pathetic and the very definition of "poor little meow meow". His look and voice and mannerisms are so iconic they're still imitated

Cartoons for the next century have and will continue to include Peter Lorre-esque characters when needed to up the scrunge factor (see Bugs Bunny and so many more).

Youtube link for characters inspired by Lorre [editor's note: I'm not actually sure how many of these characters are directly, verifiably influenced by Peter Lorre, so take with a grain of salt. tw for suicide depiction.]

I think Arsenic and Old Lace is his quintessential "scrungly" performance. He's so put-upon and tired...all he wants is sleep and some schnapps! I love the way his shoulders fall slowly when he thinks he's caught (he looks like a sad puppy!), only to gleefully sprint out the door when he realizes how dumb those police officers are.

Elsa Lanchester:

[lost-romantique]

The Love Language of Sacrifice

With the discourse surrounding Stolas at the moment, it really made me think about how one of Stolas' love languages is the act of sacrifice.

Stolas stayed in an abusive marriage with a wife that hates him, all so Octavia can have a happy upbringing.

For seventeen years he played the part of a proper Prince, dutiful husband, and devoted father just so Octavia could live a relatively "normal" childhood.

For seventeen years, he lived miserably, and essentially came to the conclusion that, that was what his entire life was going to be. His only reason for being, his daughter.

Stolas sacrificed a life worth living for Octavia.

"I used to think I was bold, I used to think love would be fun, now all my stories have been told... Except for one."

Blitz is Stolas’ light, that essentially rescued him from his unhappy and mundane life. Blitz came in with all his rizz and blatant disregard for authority and literally lit a fire so goddamn bright that it literally altered Stolas' entire belief system for himself.

Stolas was willing to sacrifice the life Blitzø taught him for Blitzø.

"I am the mastermind, the master of my fate... Sure as the stars have shined, I'll give my life to clean your slate."

[madscientist14159]

I think Azulaang/Aangzula would be so fucking funny.

I know a lot of people play the idea for angst (aangst?) or a darker version of the story. A sort of “ooooo the Sexy but Evil and Insane Manipulator is getting her claws into the heart of the sweet naive avatar she already almost murdered! Isn’t she so Scary and Intimidating?”, and like, it’s your fanfic, but I think that misses a lot of the potential.

Remember: Azula has no goddamn rizz. At all. And she thinks she’s the funniest person alive. A belief that Aang does not share in the slightest.

You don’t have to write her as a cruel calculating seductress, when you can write her as a Really Incredibly Cringe fourteen year old girl with no clue how to get the boy she likes to like her back, so she does the traumatised child-weapon equivalent of pulling his pigtails (hunting him down across the continent and attempting to kidnap him while daydreaming about him joining the fire nation).

Azula who joins Team Avatar because she has a crush, and tries being extra egomaniacal and evil, in an attempt to impress Aang.

Azula who gets her life saved by Aang, and now she feels the need to help him out to repay her debt, and his unwillingness to use evil means to depose her father is So Frustrating and Why Won’t This Boy Just Let Her Massacre Fire Villages For Him Aaaaaargh?!

Azula who tries her Political Mastermind schtick in order to take control of Team Avatar to save them from their own incompetence, but it just Does Not Work.

Azula who tries meditation to understand Aang better, but is so incapable of having any chill that it somehow results in civilian casualties.

Azula who tries to be the Dark Intimidating Manipulator Fire-Sifu, but Aang doesn’t find her scary at all, and just wants her to try having fun with him, and she doesn’t know how to handle this.

Let the girl be a mess.

[puprdou]

Hai!! I'm a new fan of your work and I have to say, you're exceptional when it comes to writing tokrev characters!! 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ I went through your rules and stuff to check if your requests are open and thankfully they are (?) Anywayz!! I'd like to request bonten! mikey with a clingy, hyperfeminine girlfriend/wife (If you don't mind, they've been together since the good toman timeline until Bonten.) It kinda reminds me of an emo husband with his barbie doll esque wife xDD I'd really like to read what you think of this :p That's all!! Keep up the great work!! ❤️

I wanna sex you up!

contains. hyperfeminine!reader. bonten!timeline. slightly mean mikey (?). semi-public sex. established relationship. fingering. strip teasing. rough sex. quickies. dressing room sex. praise + compliments. creampies.

A/N. awh, thank you! i really appreciate the compliments, makes my day to hear that people enjoy my work ♡ and, yes, they are open,,, just pretty slow thanks to the 11 reqs i have in the inbox rn, pft! this was originally gnna be a drabble but i fear it was too good to not make it into a fic.. tbh i love the idea of a hyperfeminine / hypersexual rder w bonten mikey! theres so many references to use on them that involve black n pink euuughhh,,, nyways enjoy please!

“how’s this one look, ’jiro?” you giggled, coming out in a cute, pink get-up. laces and ruffles, stockings and bows, the whole shebang. with a cheeky smile, your warm body attached to his slender form like a magnet to metal—but, even then, as his one and only love stuck to him like glue, his face remained impassive. you had to admit, he had a poker face that could rival even the most emotionless of men.

your scent filled his nostrils, flaring slightly in content at the flowery smell of your perfume. he merely let out a gentle hum, a soft nod following as he shoved his icy cold hands into the pockets of his trousers. his eyes were lidded, but you could tell he enjoyed the sight of you by the way it traveled over the plumpy curves along your beautiful form.

he never said much; after the incident that had led him into this deprived, emotionless state, he never did. the once adorable, once sweet, and once childish mikey you knew was dead. he wasn’t the mikey he was before—he’s simply manjiro now. the mikey you knew once, the fierce leader of toman, had died alongside the rest of his family, in which he once treasured.

you pouted, lips puckering out at his cold demeanor. it was annoying; you loved him, you always would love him, but him never giving you any reactions anymore majorly sucked. whining, you bounced a bit, hugging his side. he could feel your tits bouncing with the movement, straining against the tight material of that cute pink top you wore.

he tried to keep his cool, which he was good at, and simply waved you off of him. these kinds of feminine stores weren’t exactly his jam; the loud, dumb taylor swift music playing, the girls chattering in the store, and yet, he was left, here, next to your dressing room to watch as you tried on several outfits he was going to buy you, once you were finally out of that damned closet for good.

he sighed impatiently, crossing his arms over his unheathily skinny chest and leaning against the wall as you re-entered the dressing room once more. despite how scrawny his figure looked, he was no less strong than he was in his toman days, when things were still good. when they were kids, and had no real responsibilities. no matter if he looked like a goddamn corpse, he would forever be known as the most dangerous man in all of tokyo for years to come.

his pitch dark eyes shut tight, his bony shoulders relaxing from their previous tension. he was a mastermind at blocking out anything he didn’t like, he had gained the skill throughout the many years he spent, broken and deranged, that had turned him into the man he is now. he blocked out everything that didn’t matter to him—which left the slight rustle of the clothes you fit into in the dressing room behind him to reach his ears.

but, his thoughts were elsewhere. they’d ventured far from the clothing you were trying on; far, far away from the thin fabric. he visioned it in his head, the jiggle of your tits, the bounce of your ass, the way your pretty, rosy cheeks puffed outward in a pout thanks to his distance. it was like a drug invading his senses, a drug that’s giving him such an eager need for his hands to be somewhere on that gorgeous body that he desperately wants to ruin.

he knew you were far from innocent. the countless times you’d given him head, the way your pussy practically was trained to fit him, the way yuo don’t even gag anymore when sucking him off, or even the way you can cum at his mere command. it was pathetic, how whorish you could get, but he never complained. why would he, when he has his own personal pocket pussy?

not to mention, you were far from clueless about the man he is, the things he’s done, the things he still does on a daily basis. nevertheless, you never left him. his family, his past loves, every single one of them had left him. it was him that left his friends, but it was for the greater good that he did. he made a promise, he simply kept it.

even then, you were different. you never looked at him with disgust as you saw him shoot a man through his skull. you never ran away in fear. never even flinched at his cold fingers traveling along the soft skin littering your flesh. you stayed with him, through and through. that was why he never pushed you away. he needed you, needed you to live, he simply couldn’t manage without you. even your girly demeanor, which, he somehow loves.

he loved that bright aura that flew around you every day as he took you shopping, the way you smiled so brightly, giggling as he bought you a whole new closet. you two were like putting batman and hello kitty together—you were pink and black. kuromi and my melody. sylveon and umbreon. an angel and a devil. it didn’t matter the reference, the two of you would forever be together, intertwined by heartstrings.

as you finally exited the dressing room, he opened a singular eye to gaze at your new outfit. but as he saw you, he felt his jaw slack, nearly drooling at the sight of your beautiful outfit. the short skirt, the cute tube top, those pretty heels and that gorgeous necklace that had a diamond so shiny that it almost rivaled the beautiful diamond on your ring finger.

and, for the first time since the both of you entered this mall, he spoke a singular whisper of a compliment. it wasn’t much, it was a singular word, but you knew he meant it. when he bothered to speak up about something, you always knew he was serious about it. and, by the way he was practically eye-fucking you right now, you doubted he didn’t truly mean it when he said how “beautiful..” you looked.

his words were on the verge of having no sound at all, a silent compliment. but, even then, you heard it. it had your heart warming and fluttering, but your racing heart didn’t match in pace to the way your cunt clenched around thin air at the way his gaze hungily traveled over your exposed curves.

“awhh.. thank you, mikey!” you giggled, hugging his arm with your foot popped up in the air. you were so clingy, but he didn’t hate it. there were times where it got too much, and there were times where he couldn’t get enough. but, as you began dragging him into the dressing room with you, his eyebrow raised in confusion. he didn’t argue, questionably staring in silence as you tugged him inside before closing and locking the door.

“what are you doing?” he asked in his usual monotone voice, crossing his arms once again, now leaning against the locked door of the well lit dressing room. “undressing~” responding in a teasingly sweet tone, you begun undoing the strings piecing together your top. his eyes simply widened, the pitch-black pupils appearing smaller, sharper in disbelief.

but, he wasn’t particularly mad about this, either. he gets to watch you strip for him? albeit, in a random dressing room in a high-end clothing store, but it was better than nothing. his once emotionless expression had shifted, shifted into something resembling amusement. the smirk that shone on his pink lips showed you that he was sure as hell excited for the show he was about to watch.

“well, color me amused.” he mused, his voice a gentle hum as he watched you strip off that tube top, revealing that cute, lacy bra of yours beneath. he was tempted to rip it all off of you himself, but he knew you liked that outfit, and he was going to have to buy it later, so he chose not to ruin it for his little princess.

his eyes trailed over your form like a predatorial wolf to a hopeless bunny, ready to pounce to obtain his meal without any mercy. watching the slow striptease was certainly amusing him, and, by the looks of it, it amused his dick too by the sight of it straining against the black fabric of his pants.

the more you stripped, the more fabric that was ripped off of your form, the more that his desperation reached new heights to fuck you on the spot. the urge to make you scream ’n cream all at once was overwhelming all of his senses, his throat feeling dry as he watched your pretty skin appear with each piece of clothing that fell to the floor.

he was panting like a dog, looking at the beautiful view in front of him. the sight of you, now, in nothing but that pretty lacy lingerie that he had botten you just last week in replacement over a pair he’d ripped and torn, had him looking like a dog who went feral and escaped his cage. and by the looks of it, it seemed as though, today, you were the cat he was chasing.

but, in this case, the chasing wasn’t chasing—no, it was fucking. and he was about to do a whole lot of it, uncaring of the people outside of the dressing room who’ll hear.

unable to contain thesse wild urges surging through his fragile bones, he pushed himself off the wall to grab snugly onto your hips. the grip around your skin was so tight, you had a feeling there would be bruises come the next morning. you whined and squirmed, now pressed against his chest. the harsh poke of his nails into your hips stung.

“ooooowwww—i wasn’t done!” “i don’t care.” he mumbled simply, his voice a more matter-of-fact tone rather than choosing to deal with your nonsense currently. his lips attached onto the column of your neck, sucking and kissing in his own lustful haze. the feeling of your body against his, so perfect and soft, had him on cloud nine.

he rubbed circles on your hip with a calloused thumb, whilst his other hand traveled upward along the section of your back, unclasping that beautiful lacy bra of yours. he would have to make this quick, but he could do that with no problem.

“you look beautiful..” he muttered lowly, the rasp in his voice sending shivers down your spine. the feeling of his warm breath against your neck had your brain going foggy, being pushed back against a wall as he let the bra fall onto the floor. one hand holding your hip, the other fondled and played with the plushy mounds on your chest.

he continued to whisper gentle praises and compliments into your skin between each kiss, spreading the heat of his breath along every crevice of skin he could possibly reach. his hand slid lower to grip your thigh, lifting up and around his hip, which caused you to wrap your arms around his neck for pure stability.

“my pretty girl.. all mine,” he smiled, placing one more gentle kiss to your pulse point before pulling away, hands traveling along your near naked form. the only thing that was left to be ridded from your body were those pretty, and now soaked, panties. and, god, you had to resist the urge to call him cute with the cheeky smile he had on his face.

that cheeky smile, you knew it so well. it reminded you of the times when back in toman, when you all were carefree teens. he would grin like this, playfully, right before doing something stupid that all the other founding members would have to take care of afterwards.. you didn’t remember the last time you saw the founders, in all realty.

but your thoughts were taken away from you art the sudden feeling of the cold touch of his thumb pressing against your clit. it seemed whilst you were lost in thought, he had successfully managed to pull your panties off of you, one way or another.

“a-ah! ’j-jiro—” “shut the hell up,” he immediately responded in reply to your whine, placing his free hand over your mouth. he couldn’t risk anyone in this damn store to hearing the downright whorish moans he’s about to pull out of you. he rubbed firm circles on the nub, fingers gradually soaking as he slid them along the wet folds.

“jhmpph..” you whimpered, muffled by his calloused hand which trapped your mouth. “be good. gotta prep you a bit first, princess..” he hummed lowly, inserting his middle finger into your dripping wet heat. your muffled moans were sending heat straight to his dick, straining so damn tight against the confines it almost hurt.

he swore he could cum in his pants just from the sight of you—head lolling back as he inserted his index finger, pumping the two digits in and out of your messy folds with renewed figure as he pressured your clit. he felt desperate, and he hadn’t felt that in a long time. he felt desperate to be buried inside of you. to taste your juices on his tongue. fuck, it was so disgusting the things he needed to do to you.

“hngh—fuck, it’s good enough.” he huffed, his eyes appearing darker than usual as he gazed down upon you. he slowly retracted his hand from over your jaw, pressing his lips needily against your own. his hand left your cunt, slick dripping down the digits from pumping previously.

he lifted you up by the undersides of your upper thighs, pressing you tightly against him and the wall. he loved the feeling of your tits squishing against his chest, nipples hard and rubbing against the thin fabric of the black shirt he wore. he held you up with one hand, his other leading to your wrist to place it on his belt lazily.

“take it off o’me..” he mumbled against your lips, words low and breathy. he wanted you to do it. he wanted to feel your hands tremble as they fiddled with the belt buckles. he wanted to feel your nails itching his skin in a desperate attempt to get his cock. he needed to see how fucking desperate you were for some dick; like a cheap goddamn whore.

you fiddled with the buckle, tongue dancing along with his. your neediness grew by the second, resulting in you just ripping the belt off without a care in the world if it got scratch marks thanks to your nails. you pulled away from the kiss, drool falling down your chin as you undid his pants as well.

“good girl.” he praised in a monotone voice, moving to nibble on your earlobe as you pulled down his slacks, along with his boxers, just enough to reveal his girth. he was already leaking pre-cum, and yet he paid no mind to it. he didn’t even flinch or shiver at the now cold air flowing against his most private parts.

sighing softly, he buried his face into your shoulder. he stroked himself for a few moments, smearing the pre-cum at the head as makeshift lube to mix in with your juices. he place a soft kiss under your ear, aligning himself up with your entrance, pushing just the tip inside.

“now, now, be quiet.. be loud and i’m not buying any of the shit you picked out,” he huffed, not particularly caring if that hurt your feelings or not, “so just keep that pretty little mouth shut and be a good girl f’me, hm?” and, with a small hum, he pushed himself all the way inside until he bottomed out, groaning lowly at the feeling of your walls sucking him in.

with his forehead buried into your shoulder, he stayed like that, holding you in his arms with your legs wrapped ’round his hips. as much as an emotionless, asshole of a man that he was, that he had turned into, he wasn’t that mean to fuck into you raw. well, not right now, that is.

with your confirmation that it was okay to go, he began thrusting his hips up into you, simultaneously pulling you donwn on him in matching rhythm with his movements. the way your cunt fit so perfectly around his length nearly had him cumming inside of you already, and you couldn’t help but giggle. behind all of that strong exterior he puts out, he’s still just a sensitive boy. both physically, and mentally, truthfully.

“y’feel so good, b-baby.. like you were fuckin’ born for take me like this..” a small grin appeared on his lips as he pulled you down on him repeatedly, licking a long, slow stripe up your neck just to hear a pretty little moan come from your lips. seeing them parted, drool slipping down made him feel so arrogant, it almost reminded of you of that smug kid you once knew, if it wasn’t for him rearranging your insides.

“ah! ah! ah! f-fucckkk, s’too deep..” you whined, letting out breathy little gasps with each thrust of your arched body back down on him. he didn’t care whether or not it was too deep, he just wanted to cum and get the hell out of here. he had a meeting that he would be late for, either way.

“i’on care.. didn’t i tell y’to shut up?” he muttered with a heavy swallow, one hand playing with your tits as the other kept you sat on his dick, bouncing on it as if his cock was a goddamn bouncy house. he leaned down, taking the nub into his mouth and sucking like a little kid trying to get milk from their mom, his dark eyes staying on yours the entire time.

your lips puckered outward at his words, but nodded anyways. it was hard to stay quiet when he just kept on thrusting into you with renewed vigor each time, especially now that his lips attached to your nipple. hugging his neck, you nudged him closer by arching your back needily.

he could simultaneously feel his balls tightening as your cunt fluttered around him, and he knew it was perfect time. he detached from your tit to mumble against the skin, nuzzling his cheek against it. “hngh.. ’s goin’ inside, so don’t complain when y’gotta walk ’round all day full o’ my cum..”

his hand reached down to pinch your clit, wanting to make you cum on time with him. he pressed his lips against yours, bruising them with his sour kisses ’till they felt sore. he swallowed up all of your sweet moans as he buried himself to the hilt, spilling all of his white hot seed inside.

he culd feel your legs trembling and twitching, gushing an overflowing ring of white around his cock. he lazily thrusted into you a few times, riding you through it as he pulled away, looking at your glossy eyes and kiss bruised lips.

“there y’go.. knew you could do it, princess.” he praised, giving you a soft peck before pulling out with a content sigh. he hummed softly, pushing his fingers inside of your cunt, making sure to keep all of it inside as he pulled your panties back up, keeping you all plugged up with his cum.

you simply smiled at him, giggling as the aftershocks of euphoria subsided. he hummed, fixing his slacks and his belt before mumbling, “hurry up ’n get dressed. i’ll pay for your clothes, then we’re going to a meeting, and you’ll be on my lap as usual. got it?”

you nodded happily, pupils shaped into hearts as you stared at the love of your life. hopefully, he’ll maybe let you cockwarm him again this meeting.

© 2025 𝐏𝐔𝐏𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐔, all rights reserved. please do not copy, modify, steal or translate my works onto other social media platforms.

[applecherry108]

CHEWING ON THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE!! Welcome to my “fun little details I noticed in Mastermind” master post!

“Dear IMP man, please please PLS hire us, love me”

Loona’s photo was taken at Bee’s party—she’s the only one without a criminal record. 😂

“Wash your hands! Or don’t. I don’t care.” 😂😂

Satan’s lapel chain makes a little barbell. Because he has a workout app. 🥺

“Grab lots of popcorn!! Cuz on tonight’s program we get to watch this guy’s head go choppy choppy” 😂😂

Striker has a scar from the explosion in Oops.

“Gremwhore Grimwarp? Book Gripper Grimage”

“Bombproof vet after trial” 😂😂🥺

The color-coded banners with the Sins’ symbols that also appear on the door to the courtroom.

ITS STILL KESHA!! She probably recorded all her lines at once, but I’m so psyched she wasn’t recast and I hope to hear her again in future episodes! 💛

Do you know how many times my video was interrupted during my first watch for fucking ads? So goddamn many. 😭 Thanks Wally…

[alienpepper]

some of y'all need to learn to accept complex characters

ep 5 of tadc unleashed a tidal wave of people trying to justify either jax or ragatha and mischaracterize the other into hell reincarnate. my fellow in christ. they both have flaws, neither one is much better than the other when it comes to coping and socializing with others

stolas's behaviors in mastermind and sinsmas(helluva boss) must've unlocked something in people because i couldn't go five minutes without seeing some video essay or short shaming him. yes, he was in the wrong by leaving octavia, but that doesn't immediately make him the villain

i don't even wanna mention mabel pines because she barely fits into this category, but i HAVE TO now. she made one goddamn mistake when she was vulnerable and you vultures rip her apart

when characters are complex, it means they have positive and negative aspects of their personality. some are morally grey because humanity is morally grey. it makes them more relatable

fucking live with it.

[caraetdeul]

Your Heart Was Glass

Choi Seungcheol x gn!reader

You fucked up the very best thing that happened in your life so far with your choices. But maybe a second chance in love could finally be the way for you to forgive yourself and move on.

TW: angst. Full on angst but with hurt/comfort. Slight swearing but not too graphic.

A/n: its been months since the last one and writer's block has been a biatch. Apparently, I only needed the pressure of procrastinating my academic works in order to have enough energy to overcome my damn writer's block. So good news, I finally have a new fic. Bad news, I only have a few hours before the deadline of my esquisse. Either way, thank you once again for waiting for me and I hope you enjoy reading, caratdeuls!

Btw, this fic is another pov for the Mastermind fic for Wonwoo but you don't have to read that in order to truly enjoy this one. This is also inspired by Taylor Swift's Champagne Problems so reading this while listening to it would be the full experience. Love u guys (⁠~⁠￣⁠³⁠￣⁠)⁠~

~Main Masterlist~ ~Wonwoo Mastermind fic~

The invitation was possibly the most shocking thing you’ve ever received. Which is big considering that you just got promoted earlier that same day.

You were still buzzing from the impromptu party your company friends had with you the moment your eyes caught on to the pristine white envelope at your front porch, your name elegantly written on it. Curiosity getting the best of you, you didn’t even get to open your front door before you cautiously opened the envelope. You remembered the way you immediately sobered up as you scanned the contents of the obnoxiously navy blue colored card.

You have been invited to the wedding of Jeon Wonwoo and… well, fuck.

That was a month ago.

Now, dressed in the most depressing color choice of blue that you have in the back of your closet, you quietly nursed the champagne glass as you sat at the farthest table in the hall from the front. It wasn’t a choice. It was just a plain coincidence that you were assigned to that specific table. Either that, or the plain ignorance of what that table means is something that you decided will be your motto from now on.

You honestly don’t know what got into you. Sure, being invited to an important event for someone that you were once acquainted with should’ve been an easy decision. But how does one do that when the “acquaintance” was someone you promised to marry someday and is now marrying someone else?

Your answer was to attend the goddamn wedding.

The whole ceremony was beautiful. You never thought that a random day would be so perfect for the couple to get married, but today’s event made you believe otherwise. At one point, you thought that maybe becoming their wedding organizer wouldn’t be so bad, given how everything was executed without any fuss. Getting paid and having a great wedding in your portfolio is definitely a plus in your books.

On the other hand, you absolutely hate how everything is so perfect. The chairs were so comfortable, you were tempted to break a leg or two. The aisle was so beautifully ornamented with flowers on each side, you were desperate to have allergies just to avoid looking at them ever again. Even the playlist was so flawlessly picked that the thought of ripping your ears out would be the lesser evil of the two. Everything was too exquisite, quintessential at worst. And you were just a bitter person who was invited to their ex’s wedding because he’s too nice for his own good.

You were too distracted by the sensory overdrive you experienced just from entering the venue that you didn’t even notice the ceremony starting. The moment the doors opened and the bride started walking down the aisle, suddenly it was quiet. Too quiet. From then on, not even the hushed reprimands of the mother beside you as she tried her best to quiet down her kid’s tantrum were enough to distract you from the fact that he was officially the one that got away.

The different hues of the bright lights on the dancefloor were not enough to wash out the glow of the small table where the married couple sat. You don’t know if it's the amount of refills for your champagne that you’ve requested so far from the waiter, desperate to be drunk enough to get through the whole reception, but there’s a definite glow that surrounds the two. Looking around, you realized that it wasn’t from the spotlight that was shining down towards the table. It wasn’t even from the warm candlelights that surrounded them. It was the couple itself. It was Wonwoo’s bright smile. It was the bride’s shining eyes. It was his hand over her hand. It was the beautiful rings that sealed their lives.

It was them. Not you. Not yours. Them.

Taking a huge gulp from your glass in a desperate attempt to replace the bitter taste in your tongue, you didn’t notice the concerned glance from the person sitting at the table beside you, nor the way Wonwoo sat straight up to get a better look at you.

“You should probably be drinking water right about now.”

Whipping your head in the direction of the voice, you watched as a guy sat on the empty seat beside you with a glass of water in his outstretched hand.

You huffed, “Didn’t anyone ever tell you that you should mind your own business?”

He chuckled, placing the glass down on the table, “And didn’t anyone ever tell you that champagne is something to be enjoyed leisurely and not drunk like a shot?”

“Still doesn’t give you the right to demand something from me.”

“Sue me, then.” He shrugged, leaning back on the seat with his hands clasped on his lap. You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to determine whether or not he was joking. But all you saw was the determined yet casual look on his face, daring you to actually do something about it.

Shooting a glance at the glass of water he had tried to give you earlier, you pursed your lips in confusion. Looking back at him, you rolled your eyes at the smug look on his face as if he could hear the actual debate you were having inside your head.

You crossed your arms, still trying your best to look resistant against his concern, “How do I know you didn’t spike that drink?”

“And why would I do that?” he replied, his eyebrows raising in disbelief and slight amusement.

“Oh, I don’t know,” you mused. “Maybe because you’re a handsome stranger who randomly sat down on a chair beside me and is forcing me to drink a seemingly suspicious glass of water?”

He paused for a bit, letting your words sink in, when that godawful smirk of his returned. “So, I’m handsome?”

You looked at him incredulously, “That’s the only thing you got from all of that?”

He only chuckled in response, standing up straight and reaching out for the glass of water. He then faced you properly before taking a sip in the most dramatic way possible. You scoffed at his actions, but you can’t help the feeling of relief that washed over you from the reassurance that it gave you. You just never know with anyone, truly.

Placing the half-empty glass back on the table, he raised an eyebrow at you before asking, “Is that good enough for you?”

You fiddled with the rim of the glass before giving a smirk of your own, “No, not really.”

He frowned, “What—no? What do you mean ‘no’? What else do you want from me?”

You shrugged, “A name would be nice.”

“Oh.”

You snorted, “Yeah, oh.”

He chuckled as well, scratching his neck and silently praying that you wouldn’t notice the embarrassed flush on his face, “Well, that was quite rude of me.” He immediately straightened up and stretched his hand in your direction, “I’m Choi Seungcheol, but you can call me Cheol. It was nice meeting you…?”

You smiled at him, taking his hand for a shake and replying with your name. You amusedly watched him mutter your name under his breath as if testing the way it felt from his lips. Should any accusations get out about how your heart skipped just from that, you will always deny them from here on out.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” he began, the look on his face still trying to be as casual as possible, but the hint of concern shone through once again, “Can I ask you now why you’re drinking yourself to death in a joyous event like this?”

Your smile faltered, looking back down at the table where the glass of water was still half empty. You sighed as you realized that the little bubble of calm you’d created was now punctured by reality crashing down on you. You took a glimpse at the front of the venue. Listening to what’s happening around you, it now only registered to you that the bride was giving her speech on the stage as Wonwoo watched her from their table. She said something about meeting him in front of a movie theater or something, but that wasn’t what caught your attention. It was the fact that Wonwoo wasn’t actually watching her. Instead, he was gazing at her. Staring at her as if she were the only person in the room right now. And with a heavy heart, you realized that you were once the recipient of that look. Now, you’re sitting at the very back of a lively event, sulking because of your own decisions.

Your face probably wasn’t hard to read at the time because Seungcheol didn’t even try to interrupt your silence after his question. For him, your reaction was all he needed to know that maybe you weren’t just another guest of the event.

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” Seungcheol insisted, still observing the way you somehow looked even smaller than before.

“No, I—It’s okay,” you sighed, finally deciding to drink the water before replying again, “I’m more concerned over whether or not telling someone who is a part of this wedding about my situation will just make me look like a damn pity party.”

He pursed his lips, trying his best to gauge the conversation. “If it’ll make you feel any better, I’m not an actual guest. I only handle the catering part of the wedding.”

“It does, actually,” you chuckled. You looked back at him, only to watch him look around the venue as if he were trying to find something. The determination on his face made you scrunch your eyebrows in confusion. Your eyes cautiously roamed the place as you tried to identify whatever he was trying to look for, when he suddenly stood up, a hand stretched out to you once again.

“Come on. I want to show you something.”

You studied his face for any sign of where this would lead to but the persistent look in his eyes betrayed nothing. Glancing back at the married couple, you decided that whatever Seungcheol has planned is definitely a better alternative than your decision to silently brood in a corner for the whole evening. Taking his hand, you stood up and followed him out to a door on the other side of the venue that was hidden from plain sight, but not without making a detour to the catering table to take a bottle of wine and two glasses. Perks of being with the head of the catering company, you guessed.

Settling down on a bench just outside the hall, you silently appreciated the view of the garden it gave you. You then ignored the slight pang in your heart at the thought that this would’ve been a nice venue for your wedding. If only you answered yes.

A glass of wine suddenly invaded your vision. You glanced back at him, taking the wine with a whispered thank you. He only nodded back with a small smile before turning to pour his own. Somehow, a silent agreement to try your best not to disturb the serenity of the place was exchanged between the two of you within seconds of being here. Because here, away from the bustle of the reception, with its music turning into a muffled background noise, it was the most peaceful you've ever felt since you received the invitation.

“He was probably the best thing that ever happened to me and I ruined it without even saying a damn word.”

You felt his gaze beside you, but you were determined to keep your head straight on. The fear of being judged by a stranger was both a humiliating and grounding thought. But with Seungcheol, somehow that wasn’t the case. It then dawned on you that it didn’t matter if he judged you for your decisions and left you by yourself once again. It mattered more to you that you gain enough strength to tell him the whole truth, ugliest parts and all. Whether that’s because of his annoying tendencies to be the most stubborn person you’ve ever met, or the fact that you’re slowly feeling the amount of alcohol you’ve drunk so far. Either way, not an ounce of hesitation to bare your heart was present tonight.

You hummed, taking a sip before beginning your story, “Our relationship was one for the books. It was everything a person could’ve hoped for and more. Our group of friends was always sharing how jealous they were of us. Both of our families were also in love with the idea of having a happily ever after ending for us. Even I was thanking the heavens and the earth for letting me have someone like him as a big part of my life. As for Wonwoo, there was no doubt in my mind that he was thinking the same things as well. The only thing that surprised me was how far those thoughts brought him.”

You can’t help but smile a bit at the memories, swallowing down the bitterness that the reminiscing gives you. “It was good. Everything was good. But that wasn’t the case when it was just the two of us. It was never a secret that I had troubles when it comes to my brain. I’d list it down for you, but it would take the whole night, and honestly, it’s not your burden to carry.”

“I have time.”

You laughed, “No, you don’t.”

“Okay, no, I don’t,” he admitted with a small, breathless laugh, “but I’ll make time for you.”

You turned to him in silent shock, your eyes softening at the thought. You smiled genuinely this time, “That’s unnecessary, but thank you.”

Seungcheol smiled back, only replying with a reassuring nod.

“I remembered the day it all went down as if it were yesterday,” you began, “We were on a date at the time. He insisted on having it on a random Tuesday night, and I remembered being so confused when he suggested it. But because he was so determined to do it, I decided to just accept it and move on. It was only when we were finishing up our date that I realized why.”

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the next part of the story. “We were driving home, or at least I thought we were driving home, when he suddenly took a right turn at the intersection, which is opposite of the way back to our apartment. Wonwoo was so secretive about it that he wouldn’t budge at all from anything I’ve thrown his way. It was about a few more minutes of driving that was filled with my persistent whining over why he wasn’t saying anything else besides the amused smirk on his face when we finally reached our destination.”

Memories of the park that was decorated with a candlelit walkway and lanterns hanging on the branches of the biggest willow tree you’ve ever seen immediately flooded your brain. “It was beautiful,” you confessed breathlessly, “He took me under that willow tree and I was too distracted by the beauty of it all that I didn’t immediately notice how he was already on his knees with a ring on his hand.”

You heard a sharp intake of breath from Seungcheol. You chose to ignore it in favor of continuing the story while you still have the will to do it.

“I wasn’t ready,” you exhaled deeply, a tear you didn’t know was forming finally escaping down your cheek. “I was never ready.”

You wiped your cheek and gulped down whatever was left of your wine in a desperate attempt to keep your tears at bay. “I didn’t know what to say. And foolish little me, I left him all alone that day. Waking up the next day to multiple calls and messages from everyone was not what I expected. I mean, sure, at some point they would’ve called, but I didn’t expect the news to immediately reach them. What I didn’t know at the time was that all of our families and friends were with us in the park. That’s when I learned that that random Tuesday wasn’t so random after all, as it was the only day he could get everyone available to witness the proposal. And even after all of that, only one message struck me and it was from his cousin. He called me a burden full of champagne problems.”

You took a shaky breath when you felt a hand over your own. It was only then that you realized how firm your grip was on your dress. You tried to relax your fingers, taking his hand in an effort to calm yourself down.

“Since then, I haven’t heard from him. That was up until last month when the invitation for his wedding arrived on my doorstep,” you smiled bitterly. “Even now, he’s still the nicest and most forgiving person I’ve ever met.”

“Are you planning on talking to him at all tonight?”

You shook your head, “When tonight came, I honestly had no idea why I decided to go through with attending the wedding. But now that I think about it, I think it’s my way of finally telling myself that he’s in good hands and it’s time for me to officially move on from our past.”

Seungcheol slowly nodded in response, fully understanding your stance on it. It was silent for a while, the music from the hall still filling the air despite being muffled by the door. You glanced over at Seungcheol, observing the way his eyebrow raised every so often and the way the corner of his lips would twitch as if he were deep in thought. And maybe he was, but that doesn’t stop you from unconsciously admiring his side profile.

He was handsome. That was one thing you could never deny, even if you tried. A handsome being that you just laid bare yourself to. At this point, you didn’t know if it was such a wise thing to do. But before you could fully immerse yourself in your overthinking thoughts, Seungcheol cleared his throat before facing you again.

“My favorite color is red.”

You blinked once. Twice.

A loud laugh suddenly came out of you and suddenly, the night wasn’t as heavy as it was before. Suddenly, the moon was shining over the garden with a multitude of stars brightly decorating the night sky. Suddenly, the ache in your heart wasn’t as painful anymore.

Not one of you noticed the silhouette that was quietly observing you from the other side of the door, a smile on his face as he realized that you’re now in good hands. He then immediately went back to his bride, his heart light with love and acceptance.

Taglist: @moonwonuu @belladaises @porridgesblog @sasaapportela @allys-reads @clownprincehoeshi @yoonzzziino @gyuguys

[shizukateal]

You are Mao Mao. Through some twists in life, a bit of meddling, and mostly a stroke of luck you've miraculously managed to secure a pretty comfy position as a poison tester. Unfortunately, you've become important at your job so one day out of nowhere the goddamn emperor asks you personally to take care of his sickly favorite girlfriend (you were mostly doing laundry 2 weeks ago). He's nice and polite about it but you know how this works, so you know that if you don't succeed in this your head gets chopped off.

Whatever, no choice but to go forward. You go to the palace and try to feed your patient but her classist attendants won't even let you get near her for fear you'll give her lice or whatever. What's worse they insist of force-feeding her 5 course meals to keep the image of her glamorous lifestyle going and you're not from the 21st century, so you don't know how to sell the simple porridge you've been making as a "clean detox diet" that only the Superior, Beautiful and Wealthy™️ enjoy like an instagram influencer would. If you knew how to do that these vapid idiots would be feeding of your hand.

This goes on for a few days and you are worried about your patient and your safety of course, but you don't see a point in trying to punch through the wall that are these shallow, catty bitches and their unbending egos. Even with the word of the emperor by your side they keep dismissing you and they are many against one, so causing a scene probably won't help. That is until finally your hot superior who is not the emperor helps you out because he knows everyone will bend to him since he's a hot man in a position of power. You don't like that this is what finally makes the bitches relent since, again, you're trying to do the job that the fucking emperor personally entrusted to you, but whatever. It's fine. It's cool, like Chappelle Roan says. At least you can finally take a closer look at your patient.

And that's when you find out that not only have these morons been dismissing you for no adequately good reason, and not feeding or cleaning the patient properly, and thus putting both of your lives at risk, but they've also been lathering fucking poison all over their master's face out of pride. Poison, mind you, that is the very reason you're in this situation in the first place because you went out of your way to stick your neck out to warn everyone to stop fucking using it as foundation near and for babies!!!!!! And because The Patient didn't listen to that gracious advice, she lost her son and potential heir to the throne of goddamn China. So her boyfriend who, and this cannot be reiterated enough, is the current motherfucking Chinese Emperor got his ass off the throne to ask you *personally* to stop her from dying like their son. And yet, to quote a brilliant abridged youtube series, these *fucking masterminds*, by some herculean leap in logic that mere mortals could never hope to understand, figured out that it was more of a priority to give their cadaverous lady a pre-mortem make-up of lead so that her almost corpse looks pretty in case the Emperor feels particularly necrophiliac one night.

I wouldn't have the temperance that Mao Mao showed in that moment. I wouldn't have just slapped a bitch, drag her by the hair and dump the poison on her. I straight up would have force-fed it to her so that she dies in front of everyone as an example, then slap the rest until they bleed and only then would I become productive enough to save the patient. If I was in Mao Mao's position, all of China would've heard me scream.

[anthurak]

After rewatching Mastermind, I feel like the episode actually draws a very interesting distinction between Blitzo’s and Stolas’s respective big ‘Heroic Sacrifice’ moments. Namely in whether they are genuinely necessary sacrifices or a wasteful moment of a character pointlessly throwing their life away.

You see, when Blitzo does his big ‘throwing himself on the sword’ moment where he takes all the blame on himself in order to get Moxxie, Millie and Loona spared, it’s a genuinely heroic, necessary act.

In this moment, Blitzo truly did have NO other options. They were ALL being threatened with death, so Blitzo leveraged the one tiny bit of power he held and took all the responsibility onto himself.

This is very much not a case of Blitzo ‘throwing his life away’. Right then, he was going to die no matter what. But through his sacrifice, Blitzo made sure that the people he loved would live.

Now let’s contrast this with what STOLAS did. He does do essentially the same thing Blitzo just did to save him just as Blitzo saved his loved ones.

But in context, Stolas’s big moment of sacrifice is a complete WASTE. Because while Blitzo truly had zero other options, Stolas DID.

I mean think about it; Stolas is a Goetia. He has POWER, he has influence. The ABILITY, at least potentially, to save Blitzo.

But did he attempt to use any of that? When he appeared in that courtroom, did Stolas try to argue Blitzo’s innocence? Try to push back against his brother-in-law’s scheming? Try literally anything OTHER than big dramatic self-sacrifice?

No. Literally the first thing Stolas did was go straight to throwing everything away, INCLUDING HIS LIFE to save Blitzo. Admitting to whatever made-up bullshit Andrealphus used to frame Blitzo and co. in the first place and just throwing himself on the sword right off the bat.

And that’s not a good thing!

Blitzo was ready to sacrifice his life after it became clear that there was no other way to save his loved ones.

Stolas was ready to sacrifice his life because it seems to have been the first thing he could think of.

Do I really need to spell out how this is a VERY BAD THING for Stolas?

Especially given that one of those things he immediately decided to throw away without a second thought to save Blitzo happens to be HIS DAUGHTER.

I mean, you want a character contrast?

One of the last things Blitzo says is to ask his two best friends to take care of his daughter.

While I think it's pretty goddamn clear Stolas wasn't even THINKING about his daughter.

And before anyone pipes in with any trite about how their precious-little-blorbo-who-can-do-no-wrong ‘didn’t have time to think of anything else’ and ‘was just trying to protect the man he loved’,

Again; LITERALLY THE FIRST AND ONLY THING HE COULD THINK OF WAS THROWING HIS LIFE (and daughter) AWAY TO SAVE BLITZO. How the FUCK is that supposed to be ‘good’ or ‘excusable’?

And despite the ‘wholesome Stolitz domesticity’ ending note, Stolas’s reaction makes it pretty clear he is currently processing just how MASSIVELY and UTTERLY he just FUCKED UP. Particularly the whole ‘Oh shit I just threw away my daughter…�� reaction to Blitzo and Loona embracing.

Overall I think this is very much a deliberate contrast meant to highlight these characters’ growth, or lack thereof, as well as showing how they deal with a moment of true crisis.

For Blitzo, this is very much a make-or-break, back-against-the-wall moment where he demonstrates how much he truly loves his new family with a truly heroic act of self-sacrifice. Blitzo knew he was going to die no matter what, but he made sure that his loved ones would be saved.

Which of course is meant to sharply contrast how STOLAS handles the situation.

Blitzo’s moment of self-sacrifice demonstrated how much he loves and cares for his new family, to the point where he will lay down his own life to keep them safe. Whereas Stolas’s moment of self-sacrifice demonstrated how little he cares for HIMSELF, or anything other than Blitzo. To the point where his first response was to throw away everything, including his LIFE, and his DAUGHTER, to keep Blitzo safe.