#he knows hes evil and in the wrong but he benefits from it so he does it all anyway

[robocops-a-christ-allegory]

The summary of my Peacemaker and Comedian thoughts are I believe paul kupperberg when he said the comedian had no influence on his reboot of Peacemaker because turning charlton Peacemaker into a piece of shit who committed war crimes in Veitnam is a very obvious route that makes sense.

Also you can tell Kupperberg was a liberal and Moore was a anarchist because Peacemakers actions are explained like 50% by his personal trauma and mental state and THEN 50% by like Being A US Soldier while the Comedian does not have the "literally mentally ill" explanation and is like that almost entirely because he's a US soldier. Like Comedian is having a evil but "reasonable" (as in: acting like this for his own personal gain, not because he experiences delusions) reaction to his circumstances while Peacemaker is portrayed as like "he's a bad guy but alot of his actions are because he's 'insane'".

Like I know the intent is to make him more tragic but it is that very liberal like "well its not the systems fault ENTIRELY its also because of Peacemakers intrisnically broken brain !!!" and I think that difference between them is really interesting honestly

[oneofthosecrazygirls-mp3]

ALSO I MADE A TERRIBLE REALISATION EARLIER

[understandableparadox]

a comprehensive list of everything wrong with hazbin hotel.

quick note before i lose myself in madness, my standards for helluvaboss are non existent because its a free show on youtube. also i kinda like helluvaboss and i will indulge in any bias i damn well please.

oh and spoilers. i guess.

the greater narrative of the entire season is "White lady civilize inner city hoodlum". ex: The blind side. rich girl, affluent family yadda yadda.

the story is set up to be like amphibia, owl house, svtfoe, steven universe, that being starting as something episodic then transforming into story driven narrative. why? because we know the benefits and drawbacks, episodic starts allows us to wander the world, it allows us to understand the dynamics, we are not forced to reckon with anything because there is no deadline. characters are allowed to bloom and shine and the audience can actually get attached.

the source material is Vary Clearly formed from remnants of something out of a middle school edgelord narrative. the usage of transformation, the big spooky grins, the "and then i smile as my eyes glow and-"-isms which in most cases i don't mind because in some instances but in a vary Particular case its astoundingly annoying and that annoyance is like a mold, shit spreads quick.

the color Red. as a lover of homestuck cherubs and karkat and aradia, as someone who fucking loves the color red, it is so painful to say but holy shit tone it the fuck down, i know its hell but their are so many other colors that you can use, its everywhere, the streets, the air, the windows, the screens, the characters, i know the pride ring is represented with red but change up the palates every so often for backgrounds

the rush, this ties into the second point made but i think the story itself is rushed. we know everything way to early. i know way to much and it makes it hard to care about anything because im still trying to digest the last chunk of info. "oh ok, so they clear out hell once a year. oh hell has a heaven embassy? ok. oh that adam the angel, i though he wou- oh its every 6 months now. wait the exterminators die a lot? then why is everyone sca- people in hell already have weapons that can kill angels? w- oh we are in heaven now, ok ma- no one in heaven except for the elites know the exterminations occur? how do-" and its that, just this incessant rush to explain everything to you. notably that's just the god damn spark notes, we need to know everything about the characters now, every single bit of their story, their insecurities, what charlie needs to fix, how she can fix them, the major bad guys, everything. you are never allowed to dwell on a character because we need to rush towards something else. it almost feels like this should have been like... season three, it would have been a fantastic season three if you dropped the introductions honestly.

the concept of redemption. for a story of redemption to work you need to look at three things. What is there crime, Do they want to change, What is preventing them from changeing? there is only one single character that has a notable path of redemption, angel dust, but if you look through their story it feels off. What Exactly is he guilty of? he has sex, does drugs and drinks. his apparent nymphomania is tied to his sad backstory as someone forced into the sex industry so how is that their fault? then if you think about it you start to spiral and notice "hey why are most of these people in hell?" like sure some of them may deserve punishment but then you see the fucking dichotomy and its like "I was a inventor in england and died of the fucking plague, i may have made evil little contraption hoohoohoo" vs "I was a cannibal, a full on cannibal, i fucking killed people and ate them and then someone shot me". ONE OF THESE THINGS ARE A LITTLE MORE FUCKING EXTREME. i'm going to go fucking nuts, the thing they went to heaven with when presenting a case to angels on the idea that redemption and becoming a better person is actually real was angel dust not drinking at a party and not having sex with consenting adults and i want to go fucking insane. WHAT IS THE CRIME, WHO IS THROWING THE BOOK, WHAT DOES THE BOOK INTEL, ARE WE ON GOOD PLACE RULES?! half the cast dont Need redemption they need fucking help, and the other half of the cast do need redemption but they do not seek it making the point moot. sir pentious acts like he has the brain of a hyper intelligent toddler tossing about toys, its almost like he did his one bad thing of spying and then got caught, sank his little diddy about forgiveness and second chances and become a null point through out the rest of the series, sure their was Some weight to him sacrificing himself, he was a decently funny character and he had good moments but him popping up in heaven felt like a fore gone conclusion, he didn't deserve to be in hell so why do i care that he is suddenly in heaven? because its working on the concept the good place already made. no one actually deserves eternal punishment they just need help processing what makes them a dick, but instead of looking at all the parts of the afterlife that make it bad, inefficient and then creating and trying ideas to see if it work instead over a few seasons, we crash dick first into all the major plot points in regards to that and say "tada, we fixed it.".

having a sub-plot about sexual assault and its victims then having multiple sexual assault related gag ruins your point.

don't make a bunch of stereotypically jewish characters into cannibals, that was a big thing, really shouldn't have to say it.

if you are going to make a character black, make them black, you can say alastor was black but sweet seren-fucking-dippity that's not a black man.

pot meet kettle but yeah the cursing could be a little less liberal. maybe just blue hair or the pronouns, not both.

there is a very distinctive art deco/jazz aesthetic which normally i love but i feel as though it is not used to its full extent and in some cases really hurts the character design in and of itself.

this is a vary obvious bit but the story is a million times more interested in gay men then it is of lesbians, which culminates in this insane thing where the writers clearly have more talent or perhaps it would be more abt to say practice writing male gay pining then they are with lesbian pining. which i personally think is hilarious because i did not know you could min max fujoshi-ism that hard.

this next section is more to do with each character on a fundamental level, for the sake of brevity whatever there is left, i'm just doing ones with speaking roles.

13. Charlie:

(see what i mean about that red thing?)

as originally stated charlie fits rather comfortably into every white saviour narrative, though that seems to be part of her joke. though i'm not entirely sure how much of a joke it can be when its rewarded and expected to advance the plot.

her character design says nothing, it has the motif of old puppets or dolls, she wears something vaguely similar to service suits, her demonic form is just some extra horns.not to say every character needs to have their life on a clothes rack but some more snake and goat imagery would be nice

its not the chol design of charlie with snake hair, not an actual problem but its a problem to me, damn you @cholvoq for ruining my ability to look at any of the characters without wishing i was seeing your designs instead.

character wise aside from the white savoir bit, i'm having a bit of trouble understanding what the arc of the character is. she is shown to be naive, someone who doesn't understand how the world works but everytime she says something its something astoundingly clear like "people can actually get better". and its treated like someone demanded faygo in every water fountain. is the joke that the world around her to cynical or is so to naive? please pick one or the other.

now if you know me, you know i fucking hate overpowered characters with a blinding passion, one that would set alit the god damn abyss but in this one special instance, i feel like its warranted, she's the direct descendant of fucking God, she can swing her weight around a little, i mean god damn. she in so many instances looks like shes cowering so often, why would the daughter of lucifer get backed down by some rando pimp? why wasn't she the one to fight adam? sure you can say she is young but how young? her parents were there since pre-abrahamic times, most of the characters showed up in hell in the 1900s, some of them showed up in the 1600s, how old is charlie??? how long does it take for her to learn how to be strong? The story does not suffer if charlie is strong and knows she is strong. it can easily be a case of "i don't believe in violence to a weird degree". fit it into her apparent naivety about the world to believe that violence is never the answer even when dealing with a being that is unilaterally horrible and abusive and monstrous.

she ga- no im kidding, i do think her romance was waysided a bit, it would have been fine to have more scenes of them togather and in love you know?

14. Vaggie

why did you name the lesbian vaggie...? Don't do that maybe?

I like how her design is almost moth like but again i feel as though you could have amped that up.

she feels as though someone tried to combine undyne and pearl from steven universe, same story beats and design elements. it makes it hard to really distinguish her as a character.

i honestly dont have much to say about her. she is fine.

christ kill me, lets just get the big one out of the way

15. Alastor.

God Damn

where to start.

"alastor is mixed race" mixed with fucking what? concrete? there is not a single black feature on that creature, now im not saying you have to make him a png of louie armstrong but it wouldn't hurt to add a curl to the hair maybe? make it a tiny bit more wavy? Something? a crumb i beg of thee?

his symbolism is all over the god damn place, native american monsters (you know the one), voodoo, radio, puppets, stitches, circuses??? and Tentacles i guess. two of those are from closed religions so if you dumped those you would actually get a more concise character focused on the concept of vox populi as a means of societal control and influence as we see in his first song. but again that gets drowned out repeatedly by all the other random toy box bits shoved into him.

tumblr sexy man bait

he serves no purpose in the story. he does spooky stuff, pretends to do things and then goes back to sitting around looking spooky. i understand that his motif is supposed to be aloof mastermind but maybe have him do more mastermindy things? if you remove most of alastors scenes, bar the songs, it doesn't change all to much. husk and nifity can still be at the hotel, they could be looking for outs in their contracts the same as angel dust. hell it even helps with the one scene where he dose some spooky shit, asking charlie for a favor in exchange for his help in the fight with the angels instead of asking him about angel weapons which should have remained a strictly vaggie scene.

his presence in a way delegitimize the story, as I noted in in the section regarding redemption, the three parts are "what is the crime, do they want to change, what is stopping them?" and alastor kinda just spits in the face of that. he is a serial killer cannibal that has no qualms about how evil he is and apparently must continue being evil due to being under the control under someone legitimately called the Root Of All Evil. show him take a slight interest in the idea that maybe shit for him could be better, make him Want Change at the bare fucking minimum or dont have him at the hotel.

his stupid little fucking horns, big shot the troll liker wants characters to have big fucking horns, make them noticeable or dont have them.

he looks more like a dog boy, which could have been an interesting thing with the collar motif but fuck me i guess.

personal pet peeve but i fucking hate characters that have a million plus powers, stick to a set number, be creative.

im getting more petty as i go on so last point: he could have been in less episodes, he didn't need to be in dad beat dad, that should have been just a lucifer and charlie episode. inverse the red and black and i think he would be fucking great color wise, his body type is the same as ten different characters, he isnt radio enough, aside from the voice and and staff if you told me he was the fucking Cat Demon i would have been just as convinced.

16. Angel Dust

what the fuck, gay spider? its hard to actully articulate all the thoughts i have on angel dust, not in the sense that he is a deeply thought provoking character but in the fact that there is not much meat on the bones.

all around i think angel dust is kinda middling. he has a decent enough romance with husk, he has a decent enough story line that revolves around battling addiction and removing yourself from an abuser (which the story tries to brand as "Redemption???")

I dont like that most of his jokes would qualify as sexual harassment, i don't mind him being sexual as a character but continuing on when clearly someone doesn't like the jokes hurts the character.

not a critique but he is pink, which honestly ill fucking take at point, as long as its not more fucking red.

i think his design is an improvement over some of the old vivzie designs but it feels like it could have done with going a few more rounds of design changes.

same thing with alastor, charlie and vaggie, there is not enough of the animal that they are supposed to be. You could have told me angel dust was a fucking bee or something and i would have had to believe you. nothing about angel dust initially says spider, hell he dosent even have enough limps to be a fucking spider.

17. Carmilla carmine

are... are you supposed to be a rabbit...?

Big Yoai Hands

ballet fighting style, could have been cool, wish she fought more like sanji or chun li.

A single mom that works to hard, who loves her kids and never stops-

her song was decent, not great, decent. it feels as though the actress has experience singing but not in the way they tried to make her sing during her two songs. they have a obvious mexican influence, honestly just let her sing in spanish in the english dub. go listen to the spanish dub, "out for love" sounds great in spanish.

i wish i had more thoughts on them, fucking rip.

18. cherri bomb

that's not a punk aesthetic that's 2010s alt

decent character, they showed up once or twice i guess, no real thoughts.

19. egg boiz

absolutely perfect, i have not notes on them, these are perfect creatures.

20. Emily

im so fucking happy to see a singular blue character

does the naive dreamer bit better then charlie

We really shouldnt have seen her until the end of season two or middle of three.

good contrast with the other angels on screen.

Wait she is supposed to be black??? Where???

21. Husk

keith david you absolute delight, Why on gods green earth did they only give you one singing part?

one of the few charecters where its clear husk is a cat, i do like the kinda... marquee design, he is a magic cat, thats neat. i still think you can toss the wings and eyebrows and still have just as good of a charecter.

has a deeply intresting story of someone who died as a nobody, became the fat cat of hell and then was forced back to the bottom by their own vices, not used at fucking all.

huge potential, little pay off.

22. lillith

I know nothing about her except she ditched her kid and husband to vacation in heaven and i think thats kinda funny.

alot of werid things floating around her, again she shouldnt have been shown in the show at all until next season.

23. lucifer morningstar

no notes, funniest charecter, did a song based on friend like me.

few notes: i do like the idea that the immortal symbol of pride is a constant emotional wreckage constantly seeking approval through grand showmanship and manic energy that threatens to take over anything they touch.

would have liked more snake stuff on him, maybe some more goat things like horns.

that is such a stupid fucking staff lmao.

24. Adam.

alex brightman you absolute fucking delight, you should have had more songs.

I wish his design was more focused on the idea of him being a glam rock wash up

I fucking hate his mask

We shouldn't have met him until the end of the season.

25. Niffty

again she is supposed to be a bug or cockroach but nothing about her points to that.

token straight

keeps rocketing back and fourth between sexulization and infantilization

you had kimiko glenn but didnt give her a single fucking song?

26. Sir Pentious

the secret season one redeemed.

the pilot version of him felt more like someone that could do a season one redemption arc, a megalomaniac constantly attempting territory grabs, there is something you can work with, actual character flaws to work through.

essentially a child after the first episode.

actually a snake which i appreciate.

no where near steampunky enough.

27. the villians of the show dont make much sense, each one feels like they should be season long deals on their own instead of a bunch of team rocket esque idiots that show up on occasion, do a bad thing and then leave.

28. Valentino

gOD THERE IS SO MUCH RED

only a moth some of the time.

sucks as a villain, maybe they need more screen time to show why they suck in a more substantial way aside from being told that he sucks.

it is interesting that angel dust is only under his magical control when in the studio, it shows that angel dust has to make a conscious choice to return, which in turn can be made to show how abusers can draw back their victims. I do not think it was done well in this circumstance as it shows him to be cartoonishly evil, constantly flying back and fourth between sweet and utter psycho, there is no actual reason for angel dust to ever actually go back to the studio, he just does so every so often.

29. Vox

legit who cares? the only thing about him that is in any way substantial is all the dope ass fan art we get.

propaganda machine angle that is not explored at all, just hinted at. no actual barring on the story whatsoever.

why didn't he try to do the same shit as alastor by the way? he knows its bad if alastor gets in good with charlie so shouldn't it be a ass kissing race?

same body shape as literally every other male character.

tumblr sexy man version of pyrocynicals fursona.

30. Valvette

the actual poster child of the shows huge problem of "Show me, don't tell me".

apparently the glue that holds the villains together. never shown.

apparently the one that makes the love potions that valentino is famous for. had to learn about that in the fuckin wiki trivias

we know so much about her from things outside of the show.

was there to call carmilla a coward, that's her plot contribution. she shows up every now and again but its never anything substantial and serves to more around take up run time for people We Don't Need To Know Yet.

im not trying to be mean, animation is animation, we need smaller studios to have success in the industry so that other indie studios can have that success, felling a tree makes it easier for others to follow. showing that its possible to number brain rot exacs helps all animators.

but this show has so much bullshit attached to it, it has so much fucking potential that it fries my brain with unyielding frustration.

this took a bit to write, im tired, thanks for reading.

[ariaste]

YIELD UNDER GREAT PERSUASION comes out on September 17th! It's a cozy M/M romantasy about second chances, the difficult journey to self-forgiveness, and a one-sided enemies-to-lovers situationship 👀 It's available from most book retailers in hardback, paperback, and ebook (with more retailers coming soon) -- links to most of the common ones right here. The cover art is by the amazing @holographings, check out more of his work!

SUMMARY: Tam Becket has hated Lord Lyford since they were boys. The fact that he’s also been sleeping with the man for the last ten years is irrelevant. When they were both nine years old, Lyford smashed Tam’s entry into the village’s vegetable competition. Nearly twenty years later, Tam hasn’t forgiven him. No one understands how deeply he was hurt that day, how it set a pattern of disappointments and small misfortunes that would run through the rest of his life. Now Tam has reconciled himself to the fact that love and affection are for other people, that the gods don’t care and won’t answer any of his prayers (not even the one about afflicting Lyford with a case of flesh-eating spiders to chew off his privates), and that life is inherently mundane, joyless, and drab. And then, the very last straw: Tam discovers that Lyford (of all people!) bears the divine favor of Angarat, the goddess Tam feels most betrayed and abandoned by. In his hurt and anger, Tam packs up and prepares to leave the village for good. But the journey doesn’t take him far, and Tam soon finds himself set on a quest for the most difficult of all possible prizes: Self care, forgiveness, a second chance... and somehow the unbelievably precious knowledge that there is at least one person who loves Tam for exactly who he is—and always has.

This book might be for you if:

You like enemies-to-lovers but you think it would be improved by being one-sided and meanwhile the other person is living through a “hopelessly yearning for childhood crush” trope

you like it when two people are so, so, so stupid that they’ve been fucking for 10 years and Person A hasn’t figured out that Person B is in love with him, and Person B hasn’t realized that Person A doesn’t even know about his feelings

You know how fucking hard it is to Do The Work In Therapy and you want some catharsis about it

you want to read about an imperfect, truly difficult person who still gets loved, because being perfect is not a requirement to deserve affection and care

you know that apologizing for wronging someone doesn’t just magically take away the bad feelings and automatically repair the relationship, and you want to read about someone having to do the extra steps that come after the apology

this one’s for the wlw: fat harvest goddess milf. my gift to u

you like gods who don’t have anything better to do than stick their noses into human business

when you see a gorgeous man holding an infant, it takes you out at the knees

you like queernorm fantasy AND small-town gossip, and you find the intersection of the two delicious and intriguing

a religion based on pre-Christian Brythonic England. That is, they’ve got henges and standing stones instead of churches and altars. it’s cool

plant magic!!!!!

“god of temptation and evil” actually “god of self-care and personal boundaries and taking responsibility for the consequences you consented to”.

"Alongside the sexiness and absurdity (and the sexy absurdity) in Yield Under Great Persuasion is a tender, resonant story of second and third chances and being loved when we need it most and feel we deserve it least. Evocative, emotional, and endlessly entertaining." —Jules Arbeaux, author of Lord of the Empty Isles Preorder links for most retailers are here! If you live in the US and you'd like to order a paper copy from the retailer that benefits me most (thank you!), that retailer is Allstora.

(Signal boosts are always greatly appreciated, thank you in advance!)

[thevirtualvalentine]

TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS — OSAMU MIYA

content warnings: smut, mentions of voyeurism (suna is just there for the ride), possessive language and toxic behaviors, f!reader, situationships, oral (giving and receiving), mind numbing flirting & witty banter, creampie, he calls you a slut twice, you’re both kinda shitty. 🤷🏾

plot: as usual, atsumu has brought another “friends with benefits minus the friend” home. but unusually, osamu can’t stand the thought of you together, even suna agrees, right?

a/n: tv girl referenced! something evil took over me when writing this, I’m getting uninvited from so many miya birthday parties omg … T_T enjoy this 4.6k word vom.

Osamu never thought being roommates with his own twin could get any worse than when they were young boys sharing a bunk bed. Atsumu was never the type to return clothes he borrowed and certainly was the type to eat food sharpied with someone else’s name. What was Osamu’s, by extension, was Atsumu’s. He loved his brother and would yield to his selfishness because that’s just how things were.

Lately, however, Atsumu has been seeing someone, more and more frequently. Going as far as replacing his other quick fucks between practices for you. Osamu can understand why, you’re witty, unbelievably sexy, and far too sophisticated to be a fuck laid by Atsumu whenever he sends a quick “come over” text.

This matter has perplexed everyone in Atsumu Miya’s circle, questions raise on how he even managed to get your attention. “Yer all just mad it’s me she wants,” the cheeky bastard says with a toothy grin. To that, he’s not wrong.

That’s how Osamu and Suna have ended up here, with their ears to the door trying to understand what you possibly could be getting in fair exchange. “You fuckin’ love it don’t you baby,” Atsumu says to you in a tone dripping with confidence. It makes both their stomachs churn thinking of someone so beautiful with a guy like that…

“I just can’t believe this,” Suna dramatizes, he really wants to aid his friend but with each passing second of skin slapping against skin — he doesn’t know how much longer Osamu can take it. The Miyas are .. rather possessive, especially him.

“Mhm hm! Love it ‘Tsumu your dick is so good!” It’s downright pornographic how honey-sweet you sound, it just has to be fake.

“Rin, we both know Atsumu can’t fuck women that good. Tell me I still have a chance,” he’s delusional and he knows it, but the small sliver of hope keeps him desperately chasing after what’s not his.

“You’re crazy,” he snickers, almost pitying his friend for how hard he is beneath his pants. “One Miya is trouble enough, but two? She’ll be running for the hills.”

That’s all Osamu needed to set his plot into motion, he’ll just have to steal you away from him — his own brother.

It’s a quiet Sunday morning in the apartment, you roll out of Atsumu’s huge bed to make yourself coffee like you usually do when you stay over. Bless his heart but you and your newest fuck could not be any more different, he’s a late sleeper, overconfident, and to top it all off he’s not the greatest lay. You weren't sure how you ended up sleeping with a volleyball player.

But, he is undeniably handsome, which is how you found yourself in his bed. Shoving those thoughts aside, you slip into the hallway in nothing but one of his oversized shirts making your way to the kitchen. “Mornin’, coffee’s on the table.”

His voice startles you from your half-awakened stupor and you realize it’s just Atsumu. How sweet, he’s never done something like this for you before. You rub your sleepy eyes as you take a sip from the warm mug, hold on. You just left his bed, how could he be here?

Dark brown hair and cold grey eyes meet yours and instantly you know who this man is. “Oh- I’m so sorry Osamu, it didn’t register to me that you’d be here today.” You panic, trying to cover yourself up with something but he just laughs you off while drinking from his own cup.

Osamu Miya, the twin brother and (elusive) roommate of Atsumu. “You’re fine pretty, just enjoy the coffee. Let me know if you want any breakfast with it.” Once a month Osamu closes his shop in preparation for a big rice delivery from Kita, he’s just happened to catch you alone in his living room.

Involuntary heat rises to your face at his choice of words, you haven’t been formally introduced on account of the fact your relationship with his brother isn’t serious but you don’t mind his informal greeting. “So the rumors are true, you’re a chef?” you query, setting your mug down on a table closest to your seat.

God. The lilt in your voice makes him shudder and swallow hard, not to mention that the fat of your thighs peek out from under your shirt when you cross your legs. You aren’t aware of this, but that’s his shirt Atsumu has yet to return — but right now he’ll let that go — he gets to see you wear it.

“Mhm, it seems I can’t deny the allegations. Mostly onigiri though. Sorry to disappoint.” He can’t help himself but to flirt with you, his twisted infatuation morphing into a crush now that he’s immersed himself in the real thing. The soft glow of the morning light makes you appear like an angel on his couch.

“Well Mr. Chef, don’t hurt yourself trying to make bacon and eggs,” you muse. While he may be as handsome as Atsumu, he’s different; calmer, wittier, and more adept at ordinary life skills from the looks of it. This man, you reckon, is the sole reason why your sneaky link even has a proper roof over his head.

The conversation flows naturally between you as he prepares the needed ingredients. It ranges from work to his restaurant then back to you again, you find yourself laughing at his jokes and feeling much more comfortable in the apartment than before. There's a certain chemistry that seems to occur between you.

It continues like this for a while, Osamu finding reasons to be at the flat instead of his restaurant so that he may spend time with you, chatting you up over breakfast that he’s prepared. Flirtatious remarks beneath the guise of innocent conversation.

It feels wrong, coming over for one man hoping to see another the next morning, the worst of all being that they have the same face. Yet, they could not be any more contrasting. Where Atsumu forces your submission in his bedroom - Osamu rightfully earns it by tending to you. Sometimes when you look up between your lashes you wish it was dark hair you were seeing instead of platinum.

It’s another quiet Sunday morning in the Miya’s apartment. Your feet feel light as you make your way down the hallway to see him, Osamu. It’s inexplicable to you why there seems to be more cadence in your step with each strut forward, and on queue there he is. Alluring as he sits on the couch in his compression tee.

The same relaxed smile and soft tone, “Mornin’ sweetness, your coffee’s on the table.” You scoop the mug up as you plop down on the forgiving cushion next to him.

“This isn’t a sound business practice, aren’t owners supposed to open their restaurant?” You’re quick to start this morning, craving the stimulating conversation you can only find in him - like he’s some sort of haven amongst the rubble that is your situationship. The guilt does gnaw at you, making the coffee taste even more bitter than usual.

It’s what he’s been waiting for, the foundation begins to crumble and like your hero, he’ll swoop in. “Yes, but lately I’ve been hired as a private chef. The clientele is rather demanding of me if you can believe that,” he retorts while deadpanning in your direction. When he looks at you it feels like you’re bare for his eyes alone. Those cool tone grey eyes that know exactly what you are.

It leaves a lump in your throat that makes it difficult to talk. He continues between sips of his coffee, “she only requests bacon and eggs when I could give her so much more.” It makes your blood rush trying to see through his act, is it literal or innuendo? Nevertheless, you dance around each other avoiding the inevitable for a taste of limbo.

“What’s on the menu then?” You’re content to shove the ball back on his side of the court, intent on making him reveal his cards in a full flush.

The air in the room suffocates you, what seems like a quick conversation plays in slow motion. You’ve always been one to play coy, guarding your heart with quick jabs and humor. He indulges you, plays the game, the one of the cat and the mouse.

But the Miya’s are not coy, not by a long shot. “You.” It’s simple and effective, and he doesn’t miss the hitch in your breath when you realize he’s both literal and figurative.

During this long winded plot of his, Osamu has purposely avoided the topic of Atsumu all together. He doesn’t want to feed the green in his vision, doesn’t want to think of the consequences, he just wants you. Desperately.

It’s like your brain's shut down, the truth is right here in your face but it’s flustering. You’ve won, but why does it feel like you’ve lost? “I— Osamu,” you start, but you just can’t meet his gaze.

“Face it, when you’re with him you’re thinking of me.” The shame washes over you and becomes a pit of despair in your stomach. Your hands bunch the fabric of Atsumu’s shirt as you sit there and face the truth for yourself. The ugly, raring, and raw truth: that you want his hands to roam the canvas of your body, that it’s his lips you want seared into your flesh, that it’s his room you wish you were going into during the wee hours of the night. Not Atsumu’s.

He’s in front of you now, his broad shoulders casting a dubious shadow over you. “Tell me — right here n’ now — that you don’t want me and I’ll leave you alone.” But still, you can’t bring yourself to look at him. To be met with that face.

“Osamu, please.” You beg, pawing at his shirt, with tears in your eyes. “Don’t leave,” you feel pathetic, shame eating at you for acting so desperate. You’ve never behaved this way before, not genuinely at least. He drives you crazy, and you’re not willing to let it go so easily.

He thinks he’ll cum in his pants from this little display alone, your honesty and vulnerability fueling his twisted desire. He looks more like his brother than ever before, trademark wicked smirk at the feeling of victory. It’s delightful.

“Shh, pretty thing I’m not gonna quit you,” he says taking your face in his big hand. It’s hot, searing to the touch. The pad of his thumb strokes your plush cheek, “feel what you do to me.”

Osamu takes your hand in his, covering it seamlessly while dragging it up his thigh. He’s hard, incredibly so. It’s almost painful just how bricked he is beneath his pants. “See,” he helps you palm from the base all the way to the tip and you swear you’re dripping onto his couch. He groans softly feeling your delicate hands basically grope him in his shared living room, but fuck does it feel good.

He has to stop himself from grinding into your hand, frantic to finally get some reprieve to this insatiable ache for you. “So, how long,” you ask, not stopping your ministrations.

The air around you has changed, you’ve regained your composure knowing you weren’t alone in your desperation. He hisses when you cup his balls looking for a response, “how long what?”

His face is flushed a wild shade of pink and it’s only heightened by the morning light pouring in through the windows. “Now you want to play coy with me, Osamu Miya? How long have you waited to fuck me behind Atsumu’s back? Was it when he first brought me home,” your hand slides along the fabric smoothly as you rest your head against his hip.

“Maybe it was all those times you made me coffee?” You continue palming him, essentially jacking him off through his pants. “Or maybe when you were listening outside the door?” You squeeze and he lets out a choked whimper.

“Like yer any better slut, jerkin’ me off while you’re under my brothers roof.” He can’t control his tone, country accent raring to go on account of feeling cornered. You make him feel so good he doesn’t want to stop, he’s never been this hard in his life.

You hum, pleased with his response. “Such a nasty mouth for a chef. Do you speak to your customers this way?” He’s pulling himself out of his pants before you get the chance, his tip angry and red, soaked with precious pre.

It makes your mouth water, you’re eye level with his cock and all you want is to make yourself gag on it. “Nah, just the pretty ones with a bratty mouth. So show me what you can do hot stuff.”

Spitting directly on his head you drag the bulb down to his base with your tongue, watching as he shudders from your seated position. You place your hands on either side of his hips as you take him fully in your mouth, lapping the salty taste up trying to replace it with your own. “Dirty lil thing, you do this for him?”

The possession in his voice is palpable but you give him a taste of his own medicine. “Nah, only for the handsome ones who are smartasses,” releasing him from your mouth makes a pop sound. You jerk him in one hand as you belittle him, smiling with spit dribbling down your chin.

He thinks he might be in love with you, isn’t that funny. A woman who can reduce him to mere putty that’s rightfully not his, how raunchy. It makes Osamu’s balls pulse uncomfortably.

You’re a vixen, sent to entice him with your every move and fluid jerk of your wrist. He has to stop now or he’ll cum too fast, he wants this moment to last forever. The way you worship him and his cock, the way your smart mouth makes his head swim, and how warm your hands are on his bare skin.

Osamu Miya has never felt so greedy in his entire life. He hasn’t felt the need to ask anything this demanding of his brother, but what’s Atsumu’s is Osamu’s. Right? What’s a quick fuck to one is a wife to another, and with the way you’re sucking him off he might just have to put a ring on it.

Reluctantly, he pulls himself from your hot mouth before he’s able to spill down your throat. He taps the tip of his cock against your lips insultingly with a grin, “Enough, so damn desperate yer gonna choke on it.”

He’s mean but it excites you, Atsumu has never spoken to you like this only really going through the motions. You can’t help how your pussy clenches involuntarily around nothing nor can you stop the heat from rising to your face as you draw your thighs together. You sit there, staring at each other with bated breaths as the reality of what you’re doing sets in.

But if you thought that was going to deter him, you are sorely mistaken. He practically falls to his knees to get a taste of your lips against his, resting his upper body between your legs on the couch. Osamu groans tasting himself on your tongue as he invades your mouth.

You’re slobbering all over each other in a heated attempt to engulf one another. He grabs the back of your thighs while you wrap your arms around his neck. It’s like months of desperate mutual yearning have come to fruition and neither of you will let up. Not even for air.

You’re not wearing any panties and you’re sure your cunts drooling all over the place as he sucks kisses down your neck and collarbones. “Osamu—” you whine quietly, only for him to hear. His tongue licks and prods at your sensitive skin giving you goosebumps. It’s so hot and heavy you can’t make any sense of yourself just from some simple kisses.

He’s reduced you to nothing with minimal effort, wildly different from other sexual encounters you’ve had. “I need more of you Osamu, please,” and it’s the sweetest words he’s ever heard uttered. You’re absolutely perfect, just for him.

“Of course love, whatever you need.” His hands begin to spread your legs apart as another gush of slick pours out of you from the pet name alone. “I bet he doesn’t even know what to do with this, doesn’t know how to make you feel good like I can.”

If that’s a promise, you need him to fulfill it. His words are heavy in your ears as you watch him take his shirt off, they weigh in your chest threatening to drag you down with him. He spreads your puffy folds apart with his thumb, getting a good look at you and letting out coos of praise. “Yer so fuckin wet I can see it,” he dips into your warmth only slightly, marveling at the slick that coats his fingers.

He eyes them and you try to stop him before he does what you think he’s gonna do. “Don’t do that, it’s nasty,” you say trying to grab his hand.

But he swats you away, appraising the translucent liquid by spreading his fingers apart before sticking them in his mouth. “Mhm, n’ you taste as good as you look.”

He loves this look on you, the horror written all over your face as he sucks them clean. A chef never wastes a proper meal, and he’s still fuckin hungry.

Osamu yanks you down the couch to be as close as possible, he can feel the heat radiating from your cunt with just his face above it. He can tell you’ve never had someone properly eat you out by the way you’re so scared to let him even play around with you, and that lights a fire under his ass.

He dives tongue first into your folds, purposely avoiding the spot you need him the most. The moan you let out is a stark comparison to anything he’s heard from you before, but he can’t have you spoiling the fun already.

So he’ll kiss you instead, forcing you to taste yourself and groan into his maw while his fingers work magic in your cunt. Your nails find purchase in the skin of his back as he holds your leg open with one hand and slides his middle finger inside you with another. He pulls back, gauging your reaction for any discomfort as he works it in and out of your sopping heat.

“So messy for me baby, god I love it,” but he’s not looking at you, he’s looking at where his finger slips inside you; making you watch as his knuckles disappear before sliding in another.

The second digit proving to be a stretch for you as you cry into his mouth about how good it feels, “so good ‘samu, just a little faster.”

That’s when he curls them upwards, toying the rougher patch of your g-spot with the pads of his middle and ring finger. The force at which you try to close your legs and dig your nails into his skin lets him know he’s in the right place. “Gotta stay quiet sweetheart, can ya do that for me?”

You don’t know how you could be, with the way he’s listening to your body he’s managed to play its perfect tune. But you nod, covering your mouth with your hand obediently as he descends between your legs again.

Finally, he pays mind to your puffy clit. Giving it kitten licks while his fingers are still making a sloppy mess of you down below. He groans sending vibrations through you in the act of suckling your bud between his lips.

It’s muffled, but he can hear you chanting his name as he throughly wrecks you with just his mouth and hands. It causes white hot pleasure to settle in the belly of you as you writhe and try and to run away from it. He won’t let you, forcing your legs apart even wider.

You’re cumming on his fingers before you even know it. Leaving red welts on his shoulder as you go limp on the couch. “Just keep cumming for me pretty. Let go,” his low calm voice centers you when you begin to twitch against your will.

You’ve rarely ever truly came when fucking Atsumu, but Osamu has you pleading for mercy as he thumbs your clit through the aftershocks.

He lets you catch your breath, helping you remove the oversized shirt from over your head. “Don’t think I’m done with you yet,” he says while thumbing your chin, and kissing your tits tenderly. His eyes reassure you from between the valley of your breasts.

You’re appreciative of his masked concern, “then stop talking, and start doing.” The fight in you is exactly why he wanted you in the first place.

“To think this gorgeous pussys been wasted,” he tsks. “Don’tcha worry yer pretty head baby, I’ll fuck that attitude outta ya.” He stands up, removing the rest of his clothing and putting you on the couch how he wants you. Obviously, he was going to go for missionary, all so that you could see him in the act of claiming you as his own.

You know you’re in trouble with Osamu when he slips into his country accent, it’s involuntary but it’s his true nature. You’re placed onto your back by his big arms, most likely from carrying heavy bags of rice everyday at his job. You can’t help but ogle at the thin layer of sweat that coats him, and he smiles. So charming.

He begins by lining himself with your entrance, teasing the ring of muscle with the tip of his cock. It makes you whine, needy for more but he won’t just take you. No, he uses your pussy to lube himself up. “For fucks sake ‘Samu just put it in please,” you think using a nickname on him will work like it does with Atsumu.

But Osamu is in control of himself and his desires (for the most part), he’ll rut his hips into your sticky labias, running over your sensitive clit with the underside of himself. “So needy, jus’ watch” he tilts your chin downwards to make you gaze at where your bodies nearly meet.

He’s going to break you before anything else. The sight is turning you on beyond belief, his body tensing and releasing with every slow drawl of his lazy hips. “How bad d’ya want me? Tell me n’ I’ll fuck you slut.”

The way in which he carries himself warns you to not mess with him, submit. It’s all in his face, the restraint, the power, the control. You want to break down and beg him for everything so that he may see you for what you truly are in those grey eyes. “I think about you every time I come over here, every time you’ve poured me coffee or made my eggs I’ve wanted you. ‘Samu I need you s’bad please..”

You feel him physically twitch and groan lowly at your confession. He wasn’t expecting all that but it certainly does stroke his ego. Osamu pinches your nipple slightly as he grins. “Yeah baby, you wish it was me touchin’ you,” its rhetorical. He’ll reward you though, ‘fer bein so damn good’.

He feels heavenly entering you, it makes your toes curl when you hear him sigh into a slow pace. He takes his time with you, working you up to fully enjoy your experience with him. “You feel so good, fuck.. n’ your pussy’s so warm,” he says while tightening the grip on the back of your knees.

Everything is hitting you at once and it’s getting hotter by the second, your heavy breaths hitting his face as you accept him in full. It’s a snug fit and the curve of him feels just right in your walls, fuck you need him closer.

“I want you,” is all that comes out between soft whimpers. And he obliges, folding you in half and guiding your arms to hang around his shoulders. He feels so deep inside you that you can’t even see straight. His face is red with his brows drawn together in pleasure.

You try and keep quiet but the muffled sound of skin against skin keeps ringing in your ears along with the slosh of your cunt. “Lettin’ me pound you raw too, should just let me have ya. I know I’m fuckin’ you better than him.”

His words are like fire on your skin, burning you from the inside out. Your walls flutter and convulse around him as he snickers. It registers that you can feel all of him and you whine. The flood gates threaten to spill.

“I— Osamu s’good, oh my god!” He revels in the fact it almost sounds like you’re in pain from how much satisfaction you’re feeling, because of him. It’s his name you’re wailing, not Atsumu’s.

You dig your nails deeper, certain to draw blood as you're needy more of him. The band in you is threatening to snap. He’s close too, quickening the rate at which he barrels into you. Reaching deeper and deeper as he makes eye contact with you. It’s so intimate that you feel yourself succumbing.

“Where do you wan’ it baby,” his eyes are glossed over with lust and his voice thick with desire. There’s only one place you want him, inside.

It’s like music to his ears, he’s spilling his seed in hot thick ropes as he stills himself balls deep inside you. You unravel, biting your lip as you squeeze him tighter than a vice, he’s groaning and shallowly pumping into your shaking form.

You never knew missionary on a sofa could feel so fucking good, he looks at you with such care in his eyes that you melt.

Osamu helps you clean up, apologizing for the frothy ring of cum on his base and the mess that pours out of you. He’s "a sucker for a cream pie" is what he tells you.

Things between you couldn’t remain as they were, you both knew that know after you practically devoured each other right down the hall from Atsumu’s room.

He brings you to his space, letting you shower and wipe yourself down (not without groping your curves between steps). You talk about what you should say or how to even go about it over breakfast he made, but this time you're wearing his shirt.

It’s safe to say Atsumu was not pleased losing one of his favorite fucks, but in some weird way he’s not completely pissed. He’s never seen Osamu so fucking selfish n' greedy before, so he must be pretty serious about you. In time he’ll forgive him, even swing by the restaurant to see you two.

“How’s it feel havin’ my seconds,” he’ll taunt behind your back to Osamu when you’re not around. Jutting his elbow into his brothers side.

Osamu rolls his eyes, “still bitter it’s my cock she’s begging for every night I see. Get better soon.” He knows you’re happier with him, sending a hardened look at Atsumu.

They both smile as you approach the table with snacks, dropping whatever argument as you greet them. “Hello Miya and better Miya.”

Osamu snickers, kissing your left hand with his engagement ring on it. Atsumu just grumbles under his breath. “Hello Mrs. Miya,” they both say in unison.

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

Horikoshi giving hero tropes to the villains is probably my favorite part of bnha.

He presented us with a nervous wreck of a boy at the beginning of the manga. Look, he seemed to say, isn't he creepy? isn't he evil? He met Tomura in his most lanky form. Malnourished, neglected, real dead hands all over his body and blunt nails digging mercilessly in his skin.

Sure, the story paints him as a real villain. He is there to kill kids, after all. He wants to kill the light of the hero society, to spread violence and hatred all around. He's also very very suspicious. You get that feeling that there's more to the story. It's in the way he acts, his desperation. He looks sick. What is he making him so? What is his story?

Tomura is a loser. A failure since the beginning, if you follow the narrative. Characters like Stain, Overhaul and Redestro point it out: Tomura isn't the best strategist per se, they can't understand his reasons to do what he does, there's something wrong with him in villain terms.

That's when the brain starts to pick up the signals and plants the doubt. Many people don't notice it, but something in the story gives away that he is a very special type of villain.

We see him alone in his dark messy room, staring at a screen. We see him drinking alone in a bar as he sits on his misery. Over and over, we see that evil boy and his burdened stance. Only Kurogiri is there. His master only talks to him through some radio. He doesn't mention anyone else. No one else seems to live in that bar but Kurogiri and him.

Back then, when Tomura was all about AFO and All Might and no one else, he felt hollow. Rotten.

We first saw him approach someone for help and some company after the first LOV members were introduced. We meet Toga and Dabi, then Tomura goes to find Deku. Is he still creepy? Yes. Is he still evil? Also. We have Giran talking about Tomura with the fondness you reserve for a spoiled child. The way Kurogiri and Giran talk about it, it's more like Tomura needs to make some friends. He's not used to it, so he's being rude to them.

He's a chosen one reluctant to make friends, since he's used to doing things on his own— or at least with people he didn't care about. Next time we see him, his telling Kurogiri that he doesn't want them to die, he wouldn't sacrifice them for a goal and he actually wants them to succeed. He talks like a leader, he considers them important.

When they show us the LOV around Tomura as he talks to a kidnapped Bakugo, there's something in there already. How they worry when Bakugo hits Tomura and knocks the hand out of his face. They humanize Tomura, which is a lot to say when AFO did everything he could to dehumanize him. They make Tomura be more mature, more responsible and more capable. While AFO paints Tomura as a foolish child that cannot get things right until he's guided there, the LOV trusts Tomura to take care of himself and guide them.

That's when the hero tropes with villains started.

A quick list from the top of my head:

Twice overcame his trauma mid-battle in order to save Toga and then the LOV.

Tomura was tempted by Overhaul to betray the LOV in exchange for power. He pretended to agree, only to backstab Overhaul because Tomura would never forgive those who hurt his friends and would never betray the LOV.

Magne went to attack Overhaul for offending her and her friends, defending their ideals and their right to exist 'til death.

Mr. Compress took the leading role in many dangerous situations to assure that the LOV would get their win, but also to assure they'd make it out alive.

Tomura would forgive people not on his behalf, but for the benefit of the LOV.

Giran refused to sell any info about the LOV and laughed in his captors face because he was not so important to them. Turns out he was bluffing about it being all business, since we know from Twice's flashback that he did it also for the fondness he felt towards the LOV and the LOV went there to rescue him.

The LOV rushing through a battlefield the size of a city while desperately trying to find a way to save Tomura.

Twice and Mr. Compress refusing to leave Tomura fighting Gigantomachia alone and taking the burden of his training with him.

Dabi doing all he could to save Twice and snapping when he realized Twice was dead.

Mr. Compress worried about Toga and her solo mission.

Spinner telling Toga that she needs to come back safe and sound to them.

Tomura refusing to die or give up while the LOV still needs him (to be a hero).

Twice already dead and still moving because he needed to save Toga.

The entire LOV refusing to even consider defeat because they blindly believe that there is no way Tomura can lose.

And there's so much more...

The LOV made Tomura act heroic. They gave him a reason to want to save and protect, instead of just wanting to destroy.

The power of friendship but for evil.

Isn't it the best thing ever?

[jessamine-rose]

˖⋆˚♱ଘ Angel’s Tears ଓ♱˚⋆˖

*cries* I thought I was done with Church AU after Priest! Dottore yet here I am with more unholy ideas. Welp, Guardian Angel! Capitano x Nonbeliever! Darling, here we go (；ω；)

Tw:: yandere, psychological trauma, blood, violence, death, religious abuse, MDNI

Note:: fictional depictions of religion

♡ 3.8k words under the cut ♡

♡ From the moment of their creation, angels are classified into the Nine Orders. This hierarchy determines their roles in Heaven and Earth, with higher ranks assigned greater levels of power and authority. A special exception is The Strongest Angel, an individual who is neither a Seraph nor an angel from the First Sphere. Rather, the moniker belongs to Il Capitano, the leader of the Powers.

♡ The legitimacy of his title has never been questioned. As a warrior angel, Capitano’s purpose is to vanquish evil. He is the chivalrous knight in bloodstained armor, the nigh-invincible being who strikes fear into the hearts of demons, the ever-righteous angel bound by a paradoxical duty to partake in violence for the sake of everlasting peace.

♡ It is in a small town in Mondstadt, following his victory over a legion of demons, that Capitano encounters you. It is the hour of mass yet you are nowhere near the Church; rather, you have taken sanctuary in a secluded meadow. A book sits on your lap, not a religious text but a tale of dark fantasy. There is a saintlike quality to your countenance, an air of melancholy as delicate as the flowers which surround you.

✿ ⚘

The moment Capitano appears before you, all peace leaves the meadow.

No, this isn’t right. It is normal for humans to feel fear in the divine presence of angels, yet he is donning his human guise. Nonetheless, as soon as his shadow touches your form, you look up and suppress a shriek, your face losing its veil of apathy.

So what exactly did he do wrong?

For your benefit, he remains rooted to his spot. Clarity comes in the form of your gaze flitting to your book, its title printed on the cover in conspicuous letters, the whispers which leave trembling lips.

“I…I can explain! This book—it’s just fiction! There are no real curses or spells inscribed in the text; it doesn’t promote any form of blasphemy!”

Ah, now he understands. You weren’t afraid of him.

Carefully, Capitano takes a step forward and raises his hand in a calming gesture. A gentle expression adorns his false face.

“Be not afraid.”

✿ ⚘

♡ It doesn’t take long for him to understand your wariness. A glimpse into your soul, paired with your quiet explanation, tells the story of an orphan raised by the Church. Only, your Church is one of many founded on distorted beliefs, of violence preached in the name of a cruel god. As a result, your upbringing was marked by strict rules, corporal punishments, and sermons which painted the image of a hopeless child with a weakness for temptation.

♡ Knowing this, Capitano can’t fault you for forsaking God and your Church. Still in his human guise, he promises his silence and leaves the meadow. But once he returns to Heaven, his first course of action is to apply for a position as your guardian angel. It is an easy process—while that role is typically reserved for the lower ranks, there is no shortage of humans in need of spiritual guidance and protection. He only questions why an angel wasn’t assigned to you when you were in greatest need of one.

♡ Henceforth, Capitano becomes a recurring character in your life. Every week, he visits you in the meadow. When you ask for his identity, he claims to be a progressive believer from another town. But rather than enlighten you with the true Word of God, he simply keeps you company and indulges your “vices,” leading to hours spent reading together. Beyond those meetings, he also watches over you to ward off any demons or humans seeking to harm you.

♡ From your end, you slowly warm up to your mysterious companion. He is a man of few words, but his actions always convey a sense of kindness. And despite his faith, he genuinely respects your beliefs and accepts you as you are. At one point, he even gives you a special gift, a quill pen of exceptional quality. The feather, pure white with a soft radiance, must have been sourced from a rare bird of prey.

♡ Over time, however, something changes. Capitano can’t deny that the faults lies with him. His visits, his constant thoughts of you, the ever-blurring line between want and duty…nothing of his behavior can be attributed to an angel’s inherent love for humanity. If that were the case, his love wouldn’t beget heartache. His love wouldn’t beget the temptation to harm others, rooted not in the name of justice but for your own safety. His love wouldn’t beget lust, guilt, dishonor, desires so sinfully evocative of his own fallibility.

♡ The truth is, you were never in need of spiritual salvation. From the moment he first laid eyes on you, what Capitano saw was a pure soul—a good person unlikely to commit evil nor fall into true temptation. Moreover, he knows that your sin of disbelief is forgivable unlike your Church’s sins of violence. That so long as you remain as you are, your soul will not be denied paradise, albeit in a realm of Heaven beyond Capitano’s jurisdiction. So why is he incapable of leaving your side?

✿ ⚘

“I had a long, long dream. I dreamed that you and I met again in the pure white world that we created.”

As you read the final line, your gaze leaves the book and returns to Capitano.

“What did you think of the story?”

Your shoulder brushes against his own, a tempting sensation. It is all he can do to remain still, to think against seeking out more of your touch, to remind himself that your close proximity is a mere necessity for your current activity.

The left side of the book, bearing the story’s ending, rests in your left hand. The other side is held in Capitano’s right hand, a blank page devoid of hope for a happy ending. When he turns the page, you seamlessly catch it under your thumb to show the next page.

Who knew of the casual intimacies imbued in the act of reading together?

“It was a well-written novel,” he says simply. “Though her sins tarnished her honor, Rosalyne’s sacrifice was an act of love. Her loss did not hinder her faithfulness to Rostam.”

“I feel the same way,” you muse. “Now I understand why this book was banned centuries ago. Forbidden love between angels and humans…it certainly goes against what the Church taught us about angels. I have to give the author credit for their imagination.”

It’s just the two of you again, this time in the library. At the start of winter, you invited Capitano to your workplace. There, in your greatest show of trust, you brought him to a secret room dedicated to texts banned by the Church for promoting “blasphemy.” Fantasy, erotica, anti-Church publications, first editions of censored books, stories which merely deviated from the Church’s popular depictions of spiritual beings.

Molten Moment belongs to the last category. Little do you know that it was based on a true story, that the author had really formed a pact with a demon called La Signora. Capitano himself is mentioned in the story under his true name.

He was one of the few angels who noticed the changes in Rosalyne’s behavior. She used to be a Throne, an angel with no connection to Earth nor humanity. Yet by some twist of fate, she laid eyes on a brave knight from Mondstadt and began to meet him in her human guise.

He was the first to hear of Rosalyne’s sin, that being she saved Rostam’s life during a battle. It was a direct violation of God’s orders: Angels and demons may influence humans, but they are forbidden from directly altering a human’s lifespan.

He was a silent witness to Rosalyne’s descent. She fell from Heaven, burned by her own flames, yet she had never appeared more ecstatic. In the following years, she married Rostam and lived a happy life with him on Earth.

He was the last to recognize Rostam’s soul at the pearly gates, forever separated from his fallen lover. Such had been Rosalyne’s divine punishment, worsened by her knowledge of this possibility. But what else was she to do? To let Rostam know of her true nature? To drag his soul down to Hell, where he’d be subjected to an eternity of undeserved suffering?

Capitano is no fool. As he read Molten Moment, he began to understand Rosalyne’s sin in a new light. Half the time, he couldn’t even concentrate on the text, his human eyes repeatedly drifting to your intense reading expression.

He closes the book, leaving it in your sole grasp. But before he can stand up from the sofa, you scoot closer and lean your weight on him. The book is placed on a nearby table, forgotten.

“Do you mind?” you whisper. Your right hand, empty since the prologue, traces his left hand.

A moment of silence precedes his response. “You may.”

Wordlessly, you take his hand and intertwine your fingers. A gesture of intimacy, an unspoken confession. Yet as he savors your touch, Capitano wonders if you would harbor the same level of comfort around his true form.

He doubts it. As a Power, he bears an inhuman appearance on par with that of his superiors. It is his true image which has earned him the title of monster by witnessing humans.

Still, he allows himself to indulge in the blessing that is your oblivion. When you look into his two human eyes, there is a soft light in your gaze wholly free of fear.

“Spring is coming soon,” you mutter. “I can’t wait to see the flowers again. Come to think of it, there’s a variety of narcissus which grows only in late spring. It’s very pretty.”

Against his better judgment, Capitano strengthens his grip on your hand. “Shall I take it as an invitation to resume our meetings in the meadow?”

“Sure.” That is when you look up, a small smile adorning your face. “And if you can’t visit for whatever reason, I’ll pick a bouquet and preserve it for you.”

For once, Capitano is rendered speechless.

Rarely do you ever smile. Even to him, you retain your listless disposition—whether it is out of habit or lingering distance, he has yet to discern your reasons. But that is what makes it all the more special, those few instances when he is beholden to your expressions.

He wonders if this is what humans feel in the divine presence of angels, when they are borne witness to all things holy and beautiful.

Your smile is a phenomenon reserved only for the worthiest of souls. And in your grace, he has never felt more undeserving.

✿ ⚘

♡ At the end of winter, a religious war is authorized by the Church of Mondstadt. Shortly after the news reaches your town, Capitano informs you that he will be busy with “work.” He says it during another reading date, featuring Heart of Clear Springs. Before leaving, he kisses your hand and gives you a kind smile. There is a sad look in his eyes, but you don’t inquire further.

♡ In late spring, your town is attacked. With the entire area under fire, from your home to the meadow, you find yourself running back to the sacred building which you’d avoided for years. After all, though the enemy soldiers belong to a different denomination, they still worship the same god as you. In the present, the church is the only place on Earth where you can claim asylum and pray for your survival.

♡ Except every entrance is locked, including the doors to the orphanage. As the army reaches the town square, all you can do is bang on the front doors and beg to be let in. From inside, you can hear the voices of the people that luckily attended mass before the invasion. Some tell you to hide elsewhere, others beg you for forgiveness, a few sound like the nuns and caretakers who tormented you in the past.

♡ Before you can think of another sanctuary, a soldier strikes you. Pain…it has never felt more intense. Through your fading consciousness, you register your body falling and your head hitting the concrete. Blood pools from your forehead and trickles down the steps of the church, tainting it red.

♡ Life flashes before your eyes in a blurry sequence. The static images of God, sermons and bruises, unanswered prayers, people who never believed you or simply didn’t care. A birthday celebrated with your departure from the Church. Sanctuary found in the library followed by the meadow. Yet the numbness remained, each day bleeding into the next in a gloomy haze. In all those years, did you ever feel God’s love?

♡ It doesn’t matter at this point. A small part of you wonders if you should have retained your faith, continued your prayers, sought out salvation in the safety of your solitude. At least then, at the hour of your death, you wouldn’t be confronted with the fact of your humanity. The primal fear of death, the spiritual fear of ending up in Hell no matter Capitano’s reassurances.

♡ Capitano…where is he? Weakly, you call out to him but he doesn’t appear. Of course, why would he? You should feel thankful; it means he is probably safe, wherever he is. Still, you can’t help but wish he were here—if not to save you, as he has done by simply keeping you company, but to comfort you one last time. And those are the thoughts which plague you in your final moments, an unheard prayer on the tip of your tongue.

“I pray that we meet again, myself and the first person who truly loved me.”

♡ ______ died on a cloudy day, one of many people persecuted in the name of God. After the Church was destroyed and its followers slaughtered, their body was buried in a mass grave that once flourished with nature. There was a poignant quality to their countenance, an air of distress as transient as the flowers planted above them.

♡ At least, that is how your story ends from the perspectives of the survivors. But to the angels and demons who witnessed the destruction of your town, your death was only the end of a chapter in your life. In their eyes, Capitano had been present all throughout, an invisible witness to your death, absolute in his refusal to perform an unauthorized miracle.

♡ He remained by your side until the light faded from your eyes. That was when he took notice of the bouquet of narcissus clutched in your hand, tainted with blood despite your feeble efforts to save his gift. A soldier approached your corpse, intending to drag it down the steps for burial; but before they could touch you, Capitano appeared before them.

♡ It was only for a brief second, but the soldier drew back and cowered in fear. In the following days, they were haunted by the memory of the angelic figure who appeared outside the Church of Mondstadt. Or more precisely, the monster who prayed over a bloodstained corpse and took a bouquet of ruined flowers out of their grasp.

✿ ⚘

From the moment you wake up, all peace leaves the meadow.

What happened? Your memory comes back in hazy fragments—death, darkness, blinding light, pearly gates, ethereal figures. Most vivid is the sensation of strong arms and soft feathers, a familiar warmth which accompanied you throughout your journey.

As for your current surroundings, you are in a meadow so beautiful that it brings to mind the Garden of Eden. Flowers of every variety bloom across the scenery, some out of season. The sky is bright, sunless, a canvas of multiple colors. There are no other signs of life.

Internally, too, something feels off. A nearby pond provides a glimpse of your reflection—white garments, gold scars in place of your fatal injuries, your disoriented countenance. If this place is what you think it is…shouldn’t you feel at peace, happy even? And why are you alone?

Your gaze lands on a patch of flowers. Pure white, perianth petals, cup-shaped coronas…the same type of narcissus which grew in your favorite meadow. The flowers point in different directions, as though searching for a sun that does not exist.

“You are awake.”

A shadow touches your form, engulfing you in darkness. It bears a large, unrecognizable shape but such details evade you as you recognize the voice behind you.

“Capitano!” Immediately, you turn around, only to gasp and suppress a scream.

The person before you…can you even call him human? He is incredibly tall, to the point that you must crane your neck to see his face—assuming there is one beneath his iron mask. His body is clad in silver armor, stained blood in some places. A halo, shaped like a crown of thorns, shines behind his head.

But what shocks you are his wings. A single pair covered in radiant white feathers and eerily dark blue eyes. Each eye seems to glow with an uncanny aura.

Dark blue eyes with a striking resemblance to Capitano’s. What more for his long black hair and his solemn manner of speaking?

It doesn’t make your revelation any less unsettling.

“Capitano.” Your voice comes out in a nervous whisper. “Is it really you? You’re a…”

“An angel,” he confesses. He takes a step back, widening the distance between your bodies. “I ask that you pardon my appearance. Such was my sacrifice—for my true form, in all of its monstrosity, to be my sole image.”

His human face comes to mind, along with the kind gaze you fell in love with.

You feel the weight of multiple gazes on you. “What do you mean?”

“Is this realm to your satisfaction?” he asks. “I beseeched God to create a special paradise for you, cut off from the rest of Heaven. The price is that your capacity to feel negative emotions remains in this realm…though that is preferable.”

Preferable? How so? Right now, you can barely process what he is telling you. You are dead. Your companion is an angel. Your soul is in paradise, but not exactly.

After everything you’ve been through, you were still deemed worthy of a place in Heaven.

“I am sorry.”

Capitano’s voice brings you back to reality. He has never sounded more serious, emotional, repentant. And when you look up…

Is he crying?

Most of his eyes remain open, focusing on you with a fervent stare. But others are downcast, as if unable to face you. And a few appear glossy, blinking back iridescent tears.

“I am truly sorry.” He bows his head in shame, wings folded. “What I did to you was cruel, an absolute injustice.”

You don’t know which eyes to make contact with. “You—”

“It must have been painful,” he continues. “Even if I were to justify my actions, the truth lies in the fact that I tolerated your suffering for my own selfish desires. And that is why I ask not for your forgiveness, knowing I am the one at fault.”

Silence. In light of Capitano’s confession, all you can do is stare at him and comprehend the weight of your situation. What exactly are you supposed to feel, knowing his betrayal? Knowing that regardless of your feelings, you have nowhere else to go in the afterlife?

Yet despite it all, your prayer came true. The two of you were able to meet again.

And that is what compels you to take a step forward, to come closer until you are standing in front of him. “Hey, it’s…don’t cry.”

A delicate sensation blesses his wings—your hands carefully tracing his feathers to wipe away his tears. Several eyes widen in surprise, but all he can see in your gaze is sympathy.

“I’ll admit, it was painful,” you tell him. “Dying alone. But maybe it’s…better this way. If I survived, I’d have to deal with the loss of my home. And who knows what kind of living hell the other Church would’ve put me through?”

Above all, Capitano is the only person whose love you can believe in.

Hesitantly, you take his hand and intertwine your fingers. The next words to leave your lips are spoken with certainty, bringing fresh tears to his eyes.

“I’m sure it was an act of love on your part.”

His reaction is sudden, incurring your surprise. But all you can do is surrender to Capitano’s embrace, allow his free arm to hold your waist and pull you closer to him. His wings wrap around you, caging you in soft feathers and eerie blue orbs.

“Capitano?” You can only look up at him, peering into the contents of his mask.

…It’s like staring into an abyss, a night sky dotted with twinkling blue stars. But in the absence of a human likeness, his words express what a face cannot.

“Never again,” he vows, “shall I allow harm to befall you. That is a promise.”

The hand on your waist moves upwards to caress your face. His touch is light, more hesitant than his previous gestures.

“You need not serve God nor partake in fruitful labor like the other souls in Heaven. All I ask is that you rest, indulge yourself, enjoy this paradise to the fullest.”

A flower is pinned to his armor, right above his heart. You recognize it instantly—a narcissus in full bloom, stained with your blood.

“If you desire a flower, it shall grow at once. If there are any books you would like to read, they shall be brought to you shortly.”

What was the name of that variety again? Narcissus triandrus. Angel’s tears.

“If you are in need of my presence, I shall appear before you, so long as I am not in the midst of battle. And should you ever desire the opposite, I can promise my distance.”

When Capitano looks into your eyes, all he can see is his own reflection. Whatever emotion colors your gaze, it casts his true image in a compassionate light.

“I shall do everything in my power to bring you joy for all of eternity. Such will be my penance.”

“...All right.” With that, you close your eyes and lean into his touch. He feels warm, comfortingly familiar. “I’ll trust you on that.”

Rest in peace, ______.

Think not of your mortal body in the beginning stages of decay.

Think not of your tormentors who are paying for their sins in Hell.

Think only of eternity with your beloved savior.

♡

More Church AU here!! Dottore ๑ Arlecchino ๑ Pantalone ๑ Pierro

Note:: Please do not send me any Church AU asks/ requests involving other characters or dynamics who are not listed in my masterlist.

Aahhhh it's done....this idea turned out much heavier than expected, but I'm glad that I was able to write this!! I hope you all cried over enjoyed the story of Angel! Capitano and his damsel. They were truly a delight to write for~

Tag a Capitano enjoyer!! @diodellet @navxry @leftdestiny-posts @beloved-blaiddyd @bye-bye-sunbird @yandere-romanticaa @harmonysanreads @mochinon-yah @oofasleep @micchikari @whispereons @thescribeoflostmemories

[blingblong55]

...Ready for it? -Vladimir Makarov NSFW

Based on a request:

The lack of Makarov content here is killing me, I was wondering on a enemies to friends with benifits type thing with Makarov (he would be in a absolute denial that he even develop feelings for someone especially if it's his own enemy) --- F!Reader, dark romance, enemies to friends with benefits, smut, 18+, P-in-V, unprotected!sex, some fluff, knife!play, blood!play, MDNI ----

A/N: dear anon, its okay to love villains...they are hot either ways

Sworn enemies, forever to wish death upon the other. Unsuspecting eyes and hearts. Your gun, blazing as it hits his plate, "Fucking bitch," he calls out. You chuckle and shoot at him again, better luck next time, you wish to say. One goal: to dominate the underworld of evil. This is what life was like between you and him. Konni Group and the enemy, Kasper Team. Turn the light on and it's the same kind of killer on both sides, commanded by two fucking masterminds. The devil whispered his wishes to Vladimir, whilst Satan herself moaned the desires into your ear. Hate, absolute fucking hate is what you and he had for each other. 

He did some bad things in his life and fucking around with the mistress of evil you had become was the worst thing he did. A dagger, the same one that carved your name, is now in his hands as he makes his dogs sniff out your hideout. You teased him with every glance, you can never catch me, is all your eyes gave out. And oh boy was he after you like a hound. At every corner, his eyes looked for the silhouette of you. The curves and that evil grin you gave him. Lips he wanted to hear him beg for their life. 

It was June when you visited Poland for some hacker you sought after. That hacker belonged to him. In a world of evil, you always need some shit nerd to do your job. He sat on the desk, waited and waited until you walked in. Posing as the hacker was one thing but to have you in that room, alone was another. Dangerous, your glare on him said. "So, are you in?" You asked the 'hacker' but the one who turns to answer holds a gun. "Ask again, doll," he chuckles deeply and you shake your head. "Un-fucking-believable." Once he was in front of you, his hand went to your waist, "what's the matter? Don't want to dance with the devil?" His gaze teased yours this time. 

"Don't you fucking start, Vladimir-" and in that instant, he began the game of cat and mouse by kissing your lips to keep you quiet. Once he pulled away, he laughed knowing that for the first time, he kept your pretty mouth shut. "Now listen to me, you may think you are a step or four ahead of me but doll, you are playing with the wrong darkness," his hands grip your face now. "What do you want?" you bite. "The missiles and the codes for the safe houses," he responds. You try and look away but his grip is stronger. "Don't you fucking look away from me!" he barks. Then he feels it, the gun pressed to his crotch. 

"Don't you know you are playing with dangerous game here?" the gun pressed harder to him. "You think you can scare me? Darling a girl like you is a mere speed bump for me," his face and yours closer. "A dog like you is another bag of bones for me," your finger closer to the trigger. "They are here," one of his men informs. That stupid fucking task force. "Ivan, entertain them for me," he commands. From a distance, guns and screams can be heard. "Can't fight them off yourself?" you tease him. "Darling I would, but you are one messy girl who needs to be taken care of first."

"Let's make a deal, you give me 141's files and I give you three missiles." you write the demise. "Add a code to it and we have a deal. and what's with you and those men?" You nod in agreement, your gun back to its safe place. "Let's just say they are playing in the wrong backyard." He then nods and hands you a piece of paper, "Why don't we end them together, maybe then you'll be my only headache." You grin, "I want to be your migraine," your lips close to his and before he even dares to lean in, you walk away. "I expect those files, Makarov." You place your mask on and your men escort you. "Better stick to your end," he calls out. 

Once back at your headquarters, you look at the piece of paper he handed you. "Let's call a truce for now. Let the games begin." A smirk on you. 141, codes and missiles, a game for demons to play with. Days pass the truce is set. He walks into your base, then he greets you. "R/N," his hand holding yours as he kisses it. "Never took you for the gentleman type," you comment. "You're in for a treat, doll," he walks past you like he knows the base. "Office, no?" You nod and walk alongside him. No one to bother you for hours as he and you talked about ways to end all targets and focus on who was more evil. 

Curtains closed as you and him created poison for all mutual enemies. Maps, plans and bullets are all that are displayed on a desk. "Be smart, don't play just because you want to. If you need them to be killed, take the first target," he places a bullet down on the map, "here...and once you do, all else will be easy to kill," he instructs. "Then make sure Chimera is isolated and bring some of KorTac, that should keep them entertained," you draw the names with a red pen. "We make a good team, R/N," he smiles. "Focus," you say and look at him. 

Near night, his men drove you and him to a hotel, to not stay there for a warm rest but to look for potential hideouts for the upcoming war. As he and you constructed what was known as Operation Cleanstreak, he observed you in a different light. You and him, both under tension when his hand slides to your waist. "Don't. Do. That." your voice was stern. "C'mon, we both need it, and I sure want it," his lips brushed your neck. "Be a good girl and kiss me, yes?" You back away and chuckle, "Horny so soon, tsk tsk tsk," you shake your head and cup his face. "Listen to me here, I am not going to get caught fucking you," and just before you were going to tease him, he gives you puppy eyes that gaze from your lips to your hot fucking stare. "Fuck it," he whispers and kisses you deeply, his tongue slipping into yours. He needed a taste of your poison, kill him with it because he would be addicted by the end. 

He pulls away, catching his breath and before he looks away, he finds that his addiction to the kiss spreads like a disease because in an instant, he gets pulled back and you kiss him. "Thought you were a gentleman?" you say between kisses. "Oh, you are in deep," he pushes you to the bed, his blade close to your jeans. "Be a good girl and let all know tonight I claim this pussy," his blade cuts your clothes open and he gets down, kissing your inner thighs and nibbling on them. Some of your blood drips out, he looks at you, "Ooh, did my princess get cut?" he gives you a playful pout and licks the blood off. A groan from his lips falls out when he tastes it. "Sweet divine," he whispers and sucks on the cut. Your blood still dripping out as he spells his name with it on your chest and when it doesn't all fit how he wants, he cuts your shirt open and spells it all out. "Look at that," he undoes your bra and slaps your tits a few times before sucking on them and groaning. His mark belongs to you. Suits your pretty body either way. 

Without warning, he licks his fingers and as he once more cuts another fabric of your body, he sticks his fingers into your cunt. "Already wet?" he teases and slaps your pussy, mercy out of the bed this night. "Fucking slut, aren't you?" he continues to slap your cunt and watch as you moan and whimper. "Take it," he growls and soon, gets on his knees and begins to eat you out. His tongue feels so heavenly on your cunt. The noises that filled the room, all moans, groans and the wetness of your cunt, were to be heard by two evil lovers. His gaze was either on your or your gorgeous tits. Often his eyes would flutter from how amazing your cunt tastes. 

He gets up and fingers you as he kisses your neck and lips. Never did he think he'd be fucking the girl who gave him reasons to be even more dangerous. When you began to rub your clit, he slapped you and went to grab a rope to tie you to the bed. Only he can please you. You mewl as he made you more and more sensitive and once he knew your cunt was ready for him, his fat and girthy cock slips inside of you. You cry out, tears running down your soft face. "I know, I know but you can take it," his thrusts were slow and gentle, getting you used to his size. Your cunt clenching around him, making it an even better sensation as he fucks himself into you. 

"Fuck...oh...just like that," he caresses your tits and groans. When he knew you were well used to him, his hands flew to your hips and began to go faster. Your back arching, he can see his bulge on your tummy, his thumb pressing on it, making you moan more. "Oh you like that?" he smiles and does it again. A knot inside of you, building that sweet orgasm. Your face flushed as he can't seem to stop claiming your pussy with his fast cock. "Vlad-...fuck-i...n-ngh..." You were now more than drunk on him. His fingers rub on your sensitive clit and then he feels it as he hears you cry and moan. Your juices coating his dick. "Oh princess," he moans. 

He can't hold on any longer, his cum writing what no other man could claim again. Your tight pussy milking him, his cum filling you to the brim as he leans in and kisses you, his thrust slow before he pulls out. Rough hands cup your face, "Did you like that, beautiful?" he whispers and kisses you, waiting for an answer. "Loved it," you say between kisses and he grins. You whine when he stops touching you completely, he gets dressed, "Good night, R/N," he closes the door as he leaves. 

Months after that night, he sees you again. It was a one-night stand, no, this meant something to him. Every night for all those months, he would send you files of Task Force 141, in the bag with each file, he made sure to send a disarmed grenade with your name and a flower attached to it. His own hands wrote your name, over and over again. He swore it was to make sure you never forget what you let him do to you but deep down in a sick way was to thank you for letting him have you. And as you met him again in that lonely office at your base, he acted cold. 

You acted cold too, but it was to guard yourself from him. His gaze noticed that hidden in that room were all the grenades that held your name. His heart flutters and a smile creeps to his face. He did it, wrapped his arms around you and when you slapped him, he chuckled. "Do it again," he whispers. So you did, you kept slapping him until he kissed you. Not believing himself, he did it again, kissed you over and over, love is for the weak and now, he is weak. "Don't leave again," you whisper as he rests his forehead against yours. "Think you'll be seeing more of me, my love," his voice soft for the first time in his life. You smile and he kisses your forehead, his strong hands bring you close to his chest. His chin is on your head as you bury your face in his chest. Comfort and love were found in that office that night, grenades and flowers were kept in that office too. 

A/N: Not my fault the devs made him hot...

Tags:

@goldenmclaren @selarus @kielsegur @palomesa @kaska127 @thefragmented @rowrowrowyourboat13 @liyanahelena @aethelwyneleigh27 @alhaizen

[shaguro]

— ✰ LIKE THIS? | CHOSO K.

✧ synposis: nobody can pleasure you like choso can and that’s why you’re always running back to him, even when you’re in a “loving” relationship.

✧ contents: smut and a lil angst if you squint? reader is black-coded. ex!friends with benefits trope, cheating. (don’t cheat y’all!) choso has a tongue piercing. minors dni.

✧ word count: 0.9k. (proofread but.. yeah LMAO.)

✧ shanti's note: this was so, so fun to write. the ending is a bit rushed. i really hope y’all enjoy. 🩷

you knew this was wrong, so wrong and forbidden — but maybe that’s why you were in this position. on your back, legs spread with choso nestled between your thighs like he belonged there.

to be fair, he’d spent so many late nights and early mornings in this same spot, it might as well be home.

you don’t remember how you became friends with benefits or why, neither of you cared at the time. that unspoken agreement ended once you made it official with your current boyfriend and choso didn’t ask any questions because you weren’t his, you never were (even though he wanted you to be). he was just a friend that fucked you stupid, whether it be with his big dick or his tongue.

not a man of many words but fuck, he always ate your pussy so good. better than your boyfriend ever could and lord knows, it hurt to admit. it was embarrassing — the way your body craved a man that wasn’t yours but you couldn’t help it. your boyfriend was a good man, amazing even. his only fault was no matter how much he tried (or how much you taught) he never made you cum.

and choso knew your body so well, he didn’t need teaching.

he just knew the right way to curl his tongue on your cunt, it’s always so sloppy — the cool metal ball on his tongue rolling and rolling your sensitive clit around so well. you can’t think, much less breathe when choso has his mouth on you.

“choso, f-fuck—” you carded manicured nails through his silky black hair, scratching his scalp. his grip on your thighs tightened with each tug. “feels s’good.”

choso moaned into your pussy, savoring the sweet taste because he hasn’t had it in so long. he thinks you’re evil for it, just downright criminal, keeping this, no, his pussy away from him like that.

he pulls away to face your heat and you exhale, the first time you’d been able since he stepped foot in your apartment. moving his hands from your thighs, he spreads your folds — dark eyes zeroed in on your pulsing, pink hole. it made you squirm, how intensely he was staring at it.

“is s-something wrong—“

“no.” choso interrupts and he clears his throat before he continues, “never. you’re perfect. this pussy—“ he presses his thumb along your slit, relishing the way you whined at his touch. “—is perfect.”

the last word is a low whisper, his tone husky and you shiver, his warm breath fanning your most sensitive areas. choso was always honest, blunt. he never hid how much he loved that beautiful thing between your legs or the effect it had on him.

so when he pulled his hard, oozing cock out his sweatpants and rolled his hips into your satin sheets, desperate for some sort of friction, it wasn’t surprising.

you gasped when he slid a finger inside, hooking it right into your g-spot and his tongue starts swirling on your clit again, knocking all the air out your lungs. with your hand still in his hair, you propped yourself up to look at him. he was completely drunk off you, eyes closed, lapping and sucking on your folds in a frenzy.

“choso, more, p-please.”

choso’s eyes shot open and he pulled back again, his chin and cheeks glistened with your slick and you whined so sinfully, he couldn’t help but smirk.

“do you beg for your boyfriend like this?” he raised an eyebrow and added another thick finger into you, the squelching sounds your pussy made were so filthy.

“choso, i-i— oh!” your whole body jolted when he landed a firm spack on your folds, gushing out on his fingers.

you did not want to think about that man at the moment, you felt bad enough about what you were doing. you didn’t have enough energy to think, anyway — choso had reduced you to a moaning mess.

“i know he doesn’t take care of you like me. if he did, you wouldn't have called me, hmm?”

the way you were mindlessly bucking your hips into his hand, drool trickling down the side of your mouth? choso already had his answer. but for some reason, he wanted to hear you say it. to tell him how much you need him, that nobody was better than him.

“ohmy— choso m’close!” you cried.

choso shook his head, his movements slowing. “say it, baby. say it and i’ll let you cum.”

you pouted, examining his handsome face. choso was dead serious. you weren’t sure if he wanted you to stroke his ego or maybe prove some unstated point. whatever it was, you didn’t care. at this point, you just wanted to cum, so badly.

“h-he… he can’t fuck me like you, cho. no matter how much he tries, he’s just not y-you.”

oh, that’s exactly what he wanted to hear.

in what felt like a second, choso's mouth is on you once more, sucking and flicking so sloppily and his tongue is just everywhere. his fingers hammering on that spongey spot over and over. your eyes rolled back into your skull. choso’s head was caged between your thighs as you came, moans of his name spilling from your lips like water. this riled choso up so much, he was cumming right with you — his seed painting the sheets below him and his stomach.

you laid there, completely limp as choso kissed on your inner thighs, he always loved doing that after snatching your soul from you, smiling at you like he was innocent.

well, you definitely weren’t either.

both of you jumped when you heard the doorbell ring and turned to face choso with wide eyes. you scrambled to your feet on wobbly legs and pulled your panties on. albeit lost, choso followed suit, looking at you with furrowed brows.

“is that—“

“yes.” you hiss, sliding your legs into your plush pajama pants. with your heart beating out your chest, you pushed choso towards the closet.

“fuck, i forgot he was coming over tonight — get in the closet!”

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@/hoesluvshanti, 2023-2024. do not copy, steal or repost my content without permission.

[such-expensive-mistakes]

Superpham AU (part 6)

Masterpost

Lois prides herself at being good at rolling with the unexpected. Unfortunately, all of her experience with aliens and supervillains and magic has not prepared her for Danny.

Danny has a disconcerting habit of dropping disturbing or traumatizing information in an off-hand way, seeming to not even realize the implications of his own words. It started with what he said about the dimension he'd grown up in discriminating against people with powers, then with what he'd said about the red son and the lack of superheroes, but it just keeps happening.

Lois tries not to call attention to it, because she prefers it to the alternative, which is Danny shutting himself up in his room and refusing to talk to any of them.

Lex Luthor is on the nightly news-- as he so often is-- and Lois has to explain the man's many crimes to Danny. (No, Jon, it is not a rant.)

"Oh," Danny says. "He sounds like Vlad."

"Vlad?" Lois asks.

"Yeah, Vlad Masters. He's my godfather. He's a total fruitloop who wanted to marry my mom and make me his son."

Lois carefully does not react. She wants Danny to tell her things. She wants to know what his life was like when she wasn't in it. "That sounds..."

"Yeah, he tried to clone me. Well, I guess he succeeded, but none of them were stable except for Ellie, and she wasn't really that stable to begin with."

"Ellie?"

"Yeah, short for Danielle. She went by Dani-with-an-I for a while, but she decided she wanted her own name."

That is not the part Lois was looking for clarification on. She goes with it anyway. "Tell me about her," Lois says, and tries not to be concerned about Danny’s descriptions of a teenage girl who apparently lives and travels on her own because she doesn't like to be stuck in one place. Ellie doesn't even get the full benefit of being quarter Kryptonian, living in a world with a red sun.

The four of them are sitting down to dinner-- pizza again; one of them should probably cook sometime this week, but Lois and Clark are both on deadlines-- when Clark asks Danny more about his adoptive family, the ones he grew up with.

He looks sad, the way he always does whenever his adoptive parents come up.   Lois can hardly blame him, when he lost them in such a sudden and traumatic way.  

"They're scientists," Danny says.  "Or they were.  They studied, um, the Ghost Zone and the things that live there.  They didn't really understand it at first-- they thought all the-- um, everything from there was evil and needed to be killed, but they learned they were wrong eventually."

Lois meets Clark's eyes and knows he is as concerned about what happened before that 'eventually' as she is.  Still, neither of them comment, not wanting Danny to clam up again..

Jon, however, has no such reservations.  "That's really messed up."

Danny shrugs.  "Yeah, kind of.  They came around, though.  And I think they blamed themselves for how bad the GIW got because they were the ones who designed the weapons."

"The GIW?" Lois asks, instead of what she really wants to know, which is: Your adoptive parents designed weapons to be used against beings from another dimension??? Did they know what you were? 

"Guys in White," Danny says.  "I don't think that was their real name, but they were from the government."

"Your parents built weapons for them?" Clark asks, his tone deceptively light.  "I thought they were scientists."

"They dabbled in a lot of things.  But they were fantastic engineers."  Danny segues into a story about some of the modifications his adoptive parents made to their car, which is a topic only slightly better for Lois's heart.

Later that night, Lois is sitting in bed, checking her emails on her phone, when Clark sits down next to her and turns on the white noise machine they keep on the nightstand.  (It's the only way to have private conversations when your child-- children-- have super-hearing.)

"I'm concerned about Danny," he says.

"No shit."  The more Danny tells them about the dimension he grew up in, the more Lois hates it.  "But there's nothing we can do now except be there for him."

"I know people who have traveled across dimensions, you know," Clark says.  "I could always ask for a favor."

"You won't," Lois says.  "Because if you do, I'm going to end up committing felonies in another dimension."  

Clark smiles humorlessly. "What makes you think I wouldn't be there with you?"

"Because you're a better person than I am."  Clark never believes her when she says that, but it's true.  Clark is a fundamentally good person.  Lois tries to be a good person, but there's a reason she's not a superhero.  

-----

Kon intended to stop by Metropolis several days ago.  Or at least call Clark back.  But he’d gotten sidetracked by an earthquake in Southeast Asia, and then by Dr Light causing problems in California.  

He gets a few hours of sleep back in Smallville, then remembers that he’d planned on dropping by Metropolis and meeting Danny days before.  He walks the last few blocks to Lois and Clark’s house— flying would be way too noticeable in their neighborhood— and lets himself in.  He walks up to the living room and spots Lois there, furiously typing on her laptop.  

Kon is man enough to admit, at least within his own head, that Lois kind of intimidates him. Sure, Clark is physically stronger, but there’s an intensity to Lois that Clark lacks.  She glances up at Kon, and even though she’s smiling, he still feels pinned under her gaze.  

Kon shifts uncomfortably, reminds himself that unless he turns into a corrupt businessman or something, he’s not actually in danger from Lois Lane.  

“You here to see Danny?” she asks.

“Yeah.”  Kon shoves his hands in his jacket pockets.  “I figured I should probably meet him.”

“He’s in his room,” Lois says.  “He’s not… It’s not a good day, but maybe he’ll talk to you.  He hasn’t exactly gotten the chance to be around anyone his own age since he showed up.”

Kon knocks on the door to Danny’s room.  

“Come in,” a voice calls from inside.

Kon’s first thought is that he looks more like Clark than Danny does.  Stupid; of course he does.  He’s Clark’s clone.  But then, Jon resembles Clark almost as strongly as Kon does, so maybe it wasn’t a completely stupid thought.

Danny is sprawled on his stomach across his bed, phone in his hand.  There’s a video playing on it— someone talking about the history of the Justice League— but he’s ignoring it, watching Kon with a wary expression.  The room is still as bland as it ever was; other than the clothes tossed haphazardly on the floor, there’s no sign a teenage boy lives here.

“I’m guessing you’re Kon?” 

“That’s me.”  They stare at each other awkwardly for a moment.  

“Have you actually seen any of Metropolis, or have you just been hanging out in here?” Kon asks.

“Lois took me shopping for some stuff,” Danny says.

“Okay, no,” Kon says.  “You have got to get out of this house.”  

“You don’t even live in Metropolis,” Danny says.  

Kon shrugs. “Doesn’t matter; I’ve spent more time here than you.” There’s an old-school arcade he’s been to a handful of times, and a couple of places to eat.  Anything has got to be better than Danny hanging out and brooding in this sad bedroom by himself.

It's a warm day outside.  The sun shines down on the two of them as they walk in near-silence toward downtown.  The awkward silence doesn't quite break until they're at the arcade, competing on an old racing game.  

"I don't think we have this one in my dimension.  The other dimension.  Whatever."  Danny says.

"Yeah?"  Kon speeds ahead of Danny in the game, just in time to cross the finish line.  Danny groans.

"Yeah, but this world doesn't seem to have Doomed, either," Danny says as they start another race.  "There's a lot of little differences like that."

"That's gotta be weird," Kon says.  

"Yeah, Clark kind of freaked out when I told him the sun there was red."

Yeah, Kon can see why.  They talk more as they play more video games, and Danny tells Kon about his friends and what they'd do when they were hanging out in his hometown of Amity Park.  The main people he talks about are his best friends, Sam and Tucker, and his older sister, Jazz, but he mentions a few others.  

"Wait, who is Ellie again?" Kon asks, after Danny shares a story about a prank she pulled on another kid at Danny's school.  They've left the arcade, and are hanging out at the diner a few blocks away.  It's not the coolest place-- in fact, it looks like a grandmother decorated it-- but Clark introduced Kon to it, and it has great food.

"Oh, I didn't tell you?" Danny asks.  "She's my clone."

Kon chokes a little on his soda.  "You have a clone?"

-----

Danny is probably being paranoid.

Scratch that, he's definitely being paranoid. Lois and Clark have been nothing but nice, and they're clearly used to weird things happening. Like, even aside from the whole alien superhero thing, Lois just saw a kid fall out of a portal and decided to help?  Plus, Clark is an actual superhero.  

Even his— the Fentons came around on the whole “ghost powers” thing.  Eventually.  But he’s gotten used to hiding, to trying to blend in.  

(And what had them accepting him done for them in the end?  They’re dead, the GIW killed them.)

He’d rather hide than suddenly discover that Lois and Clark aren’t cool with their long-lost son being half dead.

Some of his powers he can pass off as Kryptonian— super strength, flight, enhanced senses.  He knows Lois saw his ghost form, and though she hasn’t asked about it, he’s pretty sure it’s just a matter of time.  

These thoughts circle through his mind over and over, only leaving him temporarily when he’s hanging out with the Lane-Kents.  

His bio family.  

That’s not much better, though; there’s a sadness in Lois and Clark’s eyes whenever they look at him, although they try to hide it.  Jon just a kid, and clearly doesn’t know what to make of the whole situation.  Lois keeps saying they are going to introduce him to more people, especially people his own age, but Danny shies away from that.  He doesn’t want to meet more people.  He doesn’t want to get comfortable here.

Still, he’s glad he came out with Kon.  An afternoon of videogames and greasy food hasn’t solved any of his problems, but it’s a nice break, and Kon has already promised to introduce Danny to his friends— a whole team of teenage superheroes.

“I can’t get over how many heroes there are here,” Danny says.  “Like, why do you even need that many?”  Sure, it would have been nice to have some more backup when he was Phantom, but in this world there seems to be at least one superhero for every major city, plus some extra.

Kon shrugs. “Natural disasters, alien invasions, supervillains, street crime… No one can handle all of it.”

Out of all the things he’s encountered so far in this dimension, this might be Danny’s favorite.  Even more than the proven existence of aliens.  Back home, Amity Park needed Phantom, even if they hated him.  But the world here doesn’t need Phantom.  

It’s kind of freeing, and Danny hates it.  He doesn’t want to like anything about this dimension more than his own.  

Would it really be that bad?  You might be stuck here forever, a little voice inside his head whispers.  

He ignores it.

[keepittoyourshelf]

Since the algorithm on my various socials thinks I actually want to see a ton of people simping over Rhys and ACOTAR, let’s get down to the bones of why that algorithm is fucked beyond all comprehension, shall we?

I’ve never hidden the fact that I’m pro-Tamlin, not in the sense that I approve of what he did, but from the place that I believe he’s worthy of forgiveness in the same way any of the men that SJM otherwise glorifies in her work is worthy of it for any of their transgressions.

I shouldn’t have to do a paint by numbers thing here to make this obvious, but based on the actual text written by SJM in her own words, Tamlin has objectively done nothing better or worse than Rhysand has.

The big complaint is his temper, of course, and pro-Rhysies love to bullshit about how the red flags were all over book 1 and SJM is such a master at foreshadowing.

He locked Feyre in a house against her will to protect her, when she clearly didn’t want to be caged. How is that any worse than Rhysand…drugging her and making her give him lap dances, in order to protect her, when she clearly didn’t want to be dancing naked in front of strangers?

Go on. I’ll wait for your rationalization.

Rhysand’s whole shtick was that he’s only playing the villain to keep Velaris (and only Velaris) safe…those fucks in the Hewn City can eat a bag of dicks, right? But tell me again how Tamlin is the really bad one for enforcing a tithe because it’s unfair to those who can’t afford it (fair point). But Rhysand chooses to save the one city in his court that has zero problems. Let’s let those that might already be suffering from poverty get kidnapped and tortured by a psychopath. That’s probably better than a tithe, right?

And let’s not forget how Tamlin mocked Feyre and Rhys at the High Lords meeting. While funny, it was in poor taste. At least Rhysand didn’t publicly mock Tamlin. He had the decency to do it privately when he went out of his way to go to a deeply troubled man’s house and, in the midst of an obvious mental health crisis, not only had the gall to ask for resources from a man that has no resources because his own wife fucking destroyed them out of spite, but proceeds to rub in his triumph over a man that has nothing left. Nothing to see there, right?

Even if you could ignore all of that (and you’d have to be willfully fucking thick to do so, which a lot of these people are), I shall leave you with Tamlin’s role as a spy for Hybern. That’s obviously supposed to be a real shock because TaMliN BaD at this point, so why would anyone believe him? It’s not like he had a really good explanation like Rhys gave when he murdered literal children and innocents just to ensure Amarantha didn’t know how noble he actually was. Right? RIGHT?! And it’s not like anyone would have a harder time believing someone who had played evil and done actually evil things for the “greater good” (a collectivist dog whistle if there ever was one) for fifty fucking years over the dude that suddenly goes bad after being a progressive and respected high lord for the same period of time? I mean, it’s not like we’re dealing with severe mental anguish and trauma here. That’s crazy talk.

Shadow Daddy does no wrong. Even when he does. Because reasons.

Those idiots on TikTok making stupid videos showing their bf’s being all shocked and I KNEW IT when Tamlin “turns” can chew glass along with all those dipshits selling mugs that say “Tamlin’s Tears” on Etsy right next to merch glorifying a man that literally gaslit his soulmate into believing that forced drunken naked lap dances were actually a good thing, when you think about it.

SJM isn’t a master of foreshadowing. She’s a sloppy writer of moderately entertaining fiction that has a kink for glorifying severely unhealthy behaviors without the benefit of a trigger warning.

Fuck off if you think that’s all okay and think that anyone that says Tamlin isn’t any worse comparatively is the crazy one. Projection is a real disorder. Look it up. Right after you order your 543rd Rhysand candle.

[meanbossart]

I appreciate how you write Astarion so, SO much. I feel like way too many fic writers infantilize him to a point where I honestly start wondering if I'm the one who misinterpreted him so badly.

I'd love to know more about what you think of his character and his arc. Personally I saw him and immediately went "oh god this guy is gonna be the irritating tumblr sexyman of the year🙄" and it took me until Araj basically to warm up to him. What were your initial thoughts and did they change much while playing the game?

OH thank you so much!!! That's a shame if it's the case, and a little surprising to me, to be honest! While he's definitely written be an aloof jerk a lot of the time, I always found him to be surprisingly mature and introspective whenever he's not dishing out witty remarks. He comes off to me as the kind of person who learned to benefit from seeming dumber than he actually is, overall.

HAHA I had a VERY similar experience, not just towards Astarion but all the characters, really (I really disliked Shadowheart at the beginning, too). I had only seen pictures of him and pretty much expected a vapid character that was being carried to stardom because of a talented VA - and because people go nuts for anne rice style vampires lol.

While I was definitely enjoying his voice lines from the start (Again kudos to Neil) I definitely wasn't expecting much else. He piqued my interest after so devastatingly turning my character down at the tiefling party without me even having inquired, and that's when I, the gamer, was like "well, alright, I GOTTA fuck this guy now" (this is also where DU drow's personality began to come out as you can probably guess)

Obviously, if you have two neurons to rub together you can gather pretty quickly that he's not trying to woo you because you're so interesting and wonderful, so I started getting curious! With that dynamic being so different from what you usually expect of romances in these types of games, plus the charming way in which he is written, I started being won over.

I think what really did it was how gradually his attitude changed when responding to new, mostly trivial dialogue options and doing his greetings as you earned his trust, and ESPECIALLY with how he responds to your tav when you express any kind of fear or insecurity during his romance - which was with a lot of sincerity and confidence in his resolve to support you, and in you as a person, a complete 180 from his usual front - Which, again, makes me all the more surprised to hear that he's often painted with such an immature brush.

And obviously he has a DEEPLY ugly side to him (if you've read ANE, hopefully it's clear that I know this, and that I like to explore it just as much as anything else lmao) but it's very interesting to me how it seem to always come in the form of outbursts, rather than a constant evil-streak, usually followed by a glimpse of self-awareness. It feels very much in line with someone who's actually making a great deal of effort to manage their RAMPANT emotions and going through a lot of internal conflict in the process.

GAH. Yeah if you can't tell by this friggin' thesis I just wrote, I love the way they wrote this character a lot and I was definitely proven PROFOUNDLY wrong in my first impression of him - which, if that's not irony at it's finest I don't know what is.

And as an aside! I also very much appreciate that he's a "queer" coded character who's effeminate (in the Old Homo kind of way, but I digress) and flamboyant, but taken Dead Fucking Seriously. With as much progress as we've made in LGBT rep in media, I still often feel like gay men will only get that kind of treatment for as long as they "Aren't That Gay" (I know Astarion doesn't have a set sexuality - But lets not mince words: stereotypes exist, and he fits into most of them) and as a thin-wristed gay guy who's a little too found of linen shirts, I can honestly say that experiencing a character like that helped me with my own confidence.

[starcurtain]

hihi sorry to rant in your inbox but i hate when people use aven's line about jade that says her kindness comes with a price to make their relationship seem worse than it is. while the ipc is. well. the ipc i dont thinl it would benefit her to harm him like theyre both stonehearts AND hes her subordinate. personally i think the price he mentions is like, testing him like she did in her social media post with the ores. it certainly would be less incongruous with her want to guide those that come after her..

I think that people really struggle with Jade. They took one look at her dommy mommy appearance and her status as one of the top three in the Stonehearts and they just want her to be unrepentant evil soooo bad.

Don't get me wrong, she is definitely a master manipulator and she definitely has a specific personal goal she's working toward using the IPC as her vehicle to do so. Her overall idea of creating an endless vortex of desires that can't ever be sufficiently met is very Voracity-coded and not really the kind of idea a very well-adjusted person would be espousing. We have no idea how loyal she really is to the IPC's goal of aiding Preservation against Destruction in the War of the Aeons.

But she's also, over and over again, been painted as having "True Neutral" moral alignment in-game. She's literally xxxHolic's Ichihara Yuuko with a bad case of capitalism: She always demands a price, but never asks more than is fair.

It's literally Fullmetal Alchemist's first law of alchemy: Human kind can not gain anything without first giving something in return. To obtain, something of equal value must be lost.

All of Jade's exchanges are equivalent and none of her customers enter into a bargain without understanding the price they are paying. In fact, she won't even let Firefly try to make a deal at all without doing her research in advance to truly realize the extent of what she is asking for. Jade is inherently an honest businesswoman.

The issue is that greed is all-encompassing. The ability to have any wish granted is a temptation that virtually no one can escape in the end.

Therefore, I think the best way to understand Jade is as the Honkai Star Rail equivalent of Mephistopheles. In the legend of Faust, the eponymous Dr. Faust longs for more in his life--he is endlessly pursuing knowledge and power, but has hit the limits of his own ability. He meets the devil, Mephistopheles, who agrees to enter into a pact with him: Mephistopheles will fulfill all Faust's wishes while Faust is still alive, but then Faust's soul will belong to the devil when he dies. The deal is fairly presented. The terms are not unclear: If Faust agrees to the bargain, he knows what will happen to his soul in the end.

Mephistopheles doesn't trick him or force his hand when it comes to this bargain. Faust could say no. He could resist. But he doesn't. He agrees, because human greed and pride are simply that overpowering. He thinks he's smarter than the devil; unlike the thousands of others who have come before and suffered damnation for their deals with the devil, Faust thinks he is different, better than others, more deserving... The actual temptation doesn't come from the devil. It comes from human hubris.

Like Mephistopheles, like the serpent in the Garden of Eden, Jade merely presents the choice--it's humanity's endless desire that leads to the downfall.

It's a snake and an apple and a contract for a reasonnnnnn, Jade haters.

So, I don't think that Jade represents any danger to anyone who can resist temptation. Firefly walks away from Jade's exchange entirely unscathed. Trailblazer isn't pressed into surrender.

But Aventurine?

To be honest, I think his relationship with her is a bit more complicated.

Aventurine likes Jade. She did him a solid when he was at his lowest in life. His character stories make it clear that he views her as, essentially, someone "safe" in the IPC, unlike other Stonehearts.

But... I do agree that Aventurine approaches Jade more cautiously than he approaches others. And I think that probably stems from a couple of different factors:

Jade has positioned herself as Aventurine's "pseudo-mother," and Aventurine responds to her as if she, indeed, a mother figure he has to obey. He is more respectful of her than anyone else we see him interact with in the game--Diamond and Opal get called by name, but Jade is always "Ma'am." Which is very close to "Mama;" this is not an accidentttttt. When Jade disrupts his banter with Topaz, Aventurine immediately does as he is told, hands over his room card, and simmers down. Even in joking social media posts, when Jade asks Aventurine to do something (judge the uncut jade stones she sent him), he does it even when she rejects his high demand for profit sharing.

But:

2. Jade actually failed Aventurine's moral litmus test. From the beginning of his adulthood flashbacks, we see Aventurine explicitly troubled by the fact that his human dignity was denied and that a market value was assigned to his existence. And not even a high value. He was sold for pennies. It's the ultimate mortification, and we can tell it is still bothering him to this day because even "future" Aventurine brings up the sting of that bone-deep insult during Aventurine's long walk through Penacony. In response to the indignity, Kakavasha gave his original master a moral test: Kakavasha says that he'll go willingly into the hellscape of the death maze if his master will give him 30 copper Tanba, just half his market value. His master refuses, demonstrating that he does not view Kakavasha as a human being, worthy of any respect. By refusing this tiny, insignificant request, the master exhibits his utter moral depravity, from which there is no return. In response, Kakavasha ultimately kills him and takes the 30 copper coins he asked for (nothing more, nothing less) from his corpse.

When Kakavasha meets Jade, he then makes the exact same demand: He wants 30 copper coins and exactly 30 copper coins. At this point, it is very clear that--to Kakavasha--the coins are emblematic of his value as a human being. (I promise you, somewhere in his apartment right now are the 30 bloody coins he took from his master's cold corpse.) His freedom, his dignity, his worth... All of these things hinge on being able to acquire the original 60 Tanba coins. Thus, those who refuse his requests for the coins also symbolically refuse his request for basic respect, his request to be seen as an equal human being who deserves to not be reduced to mere pennies on a bill of sale.

And Jade refuses this request. She treats the demand for Tanbas like a paltry sum and instead ignores the specificity of the request to give a general "We'll give you riches beyond your imagine, more than you could have ever thought to want." But that isn't what he asked for. She stepped over the request he actually made in order to supplant her ideas, on her terms. Kakavasha made the tiniest, most easily completed request in the world, and in failing to actually just respect what he personally wished for, Jade demonstrated that she ultimately will not really respect him.

Just like his slave master, Aventurine represents a value on a page to Jade. For this reason, even if she extends pseudo-maternal behavior to Aventurine and he laps it up like a starved kitten drinks up milk, we see that he remains more cautious toward her than he does to any other female character in the game. Aventurine comes across as more comfortable talking to Acheron than he sounds when he talks to Jade... Because in failing the most basic and seemingly meaningless test, Jade revealed exactly to what extent Kakavasha can--and cannot--trust her.

Does Jade actually mean Aventurine any harm? No, I really don't think so, and you're right, those who claim that she does are really over-exaggerating Jade's negative traits, mostly because they've almost universally got a strong anti-IPC agenda and hate everything from the IPC except Aventurine on principle. Everything in Jade's character stories points to her honestly wanting to develop the hidden talents of others, to "polish" rough cut stones into true gems, and to see her fledglings thrive. Kakavasha is someone she picked up out of the dirt and dusted off. If he excels, that means her faith was well-placed, her judgment was correct, and her team as a whole excels.

It's exactly like a business owner who takes great pride in producing a fantastic product. Only when the product succeeds can the business itself succeed.

But business owners see their products as objects, not equals.

Jade is a fairly neutral figure and I think she wants to see Aventurine grow and achieve greatness. But at the end of the day, their relationship is very predicated on the notion of investment (Jade puts up the original capital to make Aventurine great, and he repays her faith in him by generating wealth for the IPC). It is clear she just can't be trusted to value Aventurine as a person above a means of profit--and Aventurine knows (and accepts) that too.

[fleurlia]

tropes and tulips: a romantic rollercoaster

ʀɪɪᴢᴇ as ʀᴏᴍᴀɴᴛɪᴄ ᴛʀᴏᴘᴇꜱ

pairing. riize x reader genre. fluff, angst author's note. hi guys! i’ve been so excited about this riize series and makes me soo happy to share with u guys, it’s been a while since a posted some of my work. i promise to keep this interactive as i can, i love to hear what u guys think!!! so i guess the resquest are open (riize and nct dream, in the future i hope to write for enhypen too).

RELEASE DATE. february to march. TAGLIST. send an ask/dm/reply to be added.

caught in the choreography of fate: a dance with osaki shotaro | grumpy x sunshine | college student!shotaro x college student!reader

when your best friend's jerk ex-boyfriend abruptly dumped her, all you and your friends could think about was how to get revenge on that shitty dancer. despite weeks of planning your little evil scheme, everything goes wrong, and you are the only one caught in the middle. in that moment, everything passing by you was how your life was going downhill, and your perfect record as the brilliant student you were was ruined. but for some kinda miracle the academy decided they could use you and as a retribution, you ended up as the dance partner with shotaro, the star of the company.

testing the family bond: siblings edition | brother's best friend | college student!eunseok x sungchan younger sister!reader

the most precious thing in the world to you is your family. your older brother, sungchan, has been your best friend since forever, and due to the small age gap, you also share the same interests, friends, and even attend the same college. you would never hide anything from him, and he wouldn't from you. for years, you've upheld your role as a sister and best friend, following the agreement to not get romantically involved with any of his six closest friends, until the day you found yourself entangled in a foolish game with eunseok.

faking it with the heartbreaker | fake dating | college student!sungchan x college student!reader

you always had a thing for jerks; that was clear to you after many letdowns in your love life. trying to escape a never-ending situationship, you feel stuck and tired of heartbreaks until jung sungchan looked into your eyes and suggested playing the part of your fake boyfriend. of course, he was totally benefiting in the process. all you could think is how this could get really wrong really fast, but well, what disappointment could you have when it was all just pretend?

frozen hearts, warming love: the park wonbin effect | the heartthrob + doesn't believe in love (first love) | college student!wonbin x college student! reader

wonbin is popular, even though he's shy and, to those who know him, a bit awkward. hundreds of girls have confessed their feelings to him, only to be politely rejected. rumors and gossip circulate through the hallways, but no one has ever managed to melt the heart of the icy prince, park wonbin. until you come into the picture. famed for being a flirt cupid, you decide to bet that even the icy prince has his ideal match, and come what may, you're determined to find it.

stormy relations; frenemies under one roof | enemies to lovers + the boy next door | student!seunghan x student!reader

you've known seunghan longer than you'd wanted to. since moving to a different neighborhood three years ago, you've had the worst view in town: seunghan's room, your declared enemy for three years or more now. neither of you can even remembers why you dislike each other, but now your rivalry is known even in the school corridors, and everything turns into a competition even if one is not interested. everything changes for you when a storm and a fallen tree force you to start living under the same roof, and for a few fleeting moments, seunghan doesn't seem so bad in your eyes.

love in the lab: 36 quetions, one answer | friends to lovers + classmate to lovers | college student!sohee x college student!reader

after being subjects of a close friend's psychology study, which involved an experiment with "36 questions to fall in love," sohee can't stop thinking about you. you're fun and kind, surrounded by friends and numerous contenders trying to win your heart — how could sohee not fall for you? while this might be the most embarrassing thing to happen to some, for sohee, it was like waking up from a deep sleep. now, he needed to wake up to another reality: the fierce competition to win your heart.

life, love and anton | childhood friends to lovers | anton x reader

you've known anton before even knowing yourself. you grow up together, attended preschool, graduated side by side, you were there for all of his competition and he made sure to never miss one of your presentations – you even shared your first kiss. for both of you and your families, your relationship is more than friendship; you're each other's family. things take a turn when, on your 18th birthday, a rather awkward confession occurs, and then anton realizes: there never has been and never will be any girl after you. you've always been his soulmate.

[shini--chan]

Hi, hello!! If possible, would it be ok for me to request the first yandere character sheet for america?? I absolutely love the way you characterize him!!

Yandere Character Sheet I

1p America: Alfred F. Jones

Trigger warnings: neglect, starvation, white torture, abandonment, forced assimilation, murder, physical and verbal abuse, mind games

Attributes - What sort of Yandere is he/she?

The problem with Alfred as a yandere would be how his base personality affects his yandere tendencies. Fundamentally, he wants to be a hero, he wants to help people and be selfless, but it is ruined by his self-centred worldview and his egoist ideology. At the end of the day, he is far more concerned about how you can benefit him, rather than how he can ensure and protect your happiness and health. America would only really be willing to change his actions if he faces negative consequences or it ruins his glorious self-image. Though, by putting you in a position where you are powerless in relation to him, he’ll be able to brush off/mitigate many of the negative consequences that could arise. Even if there is something that he wouldn’t be able to simply flick away, he would likely frame somebody else than engage in any soul-searching. To synthesise a few concrete characteristics out of all of this, he would be arrogant, self-righteous and in denial about any wrong doings on his part. 

That being said, Alfred would be perfectly capable of being a gentleman. Should he put some effort in it, then he’ll be the roguish and handsome boy-next-door to you. It would even feel very off or false since it would be partially true and not just an act. America is absolutely capable of being decent. All in all, it would just make everything more difficult, though. Since you wouldn’t be dealing with a pure sociopath, but a complex, layered person, he would be unpredictable in the worst way possible. No pure evil, but no pure good either - if anything, he would nourish any conflicting feelings you have about him. So, he would really take the phrase from Machiavelli, that it is best to be feared as well as loved, very much to heart. America would take you on dates, shower you with gifts, compliment you and take you home with him. He is so desirable, isn’t he? Above everything, he would want you to be smitten with him, since it would stroke his ego. 

He is also delusional, so he wouldn’t take much offence should he have to drag you to his side kicking and screaming. At the end of the day, what Alfred believes in most is his own hype. If he was a religion, then he is his own god, or at very least, the Chosen One. Any criticism would simply be water off a duck’s back and he’ll laugh at you. Here, he would also bring one of the worst of Christian traits to the fore and claim that you know the truth, know that he is good and moral and heroic, and that you’re just trying to lead him astray. So, rather than him having to repent, you should. Alfed would prove to be hard headed in everything, though on minor issues and things he would be more inclined to listen and admit that he’s wrong than on major ones. In total, he wouldn’t be extremely communicative on things he doesn’t like, excluding it is something that is tied to his idiosyncrasies, since he would think that rules of the game are clear to you. So, from a certain point onwards, you’ll find yourself walking on egg-shells around him, unless you figure him out and fast. 

Additionally, he is a very busy man. This is a person that can’t sit still for even an hour and has a mind that would constantly race from one train of thoughts to the next set of ideas. Life with him would never be boring (unless you are bad and don’t obey him), so you yourself might end up being too busy to notice all the red flags in the beginning. The start would also be the get-to-know-you phase, where you would have considerably more freedom, so life with him in it would feel exhilarating. While luring you in his fold, he would also be very indulgent towards you and take you where-ever you wish to go. A holiday to Tuscany? Booked and the luggage packed. Need help with your bills? They are already paid. Advise on some future life choice? His lecture/prep talk is going to be over two hours. 

Though, he is also calculating. Not only in the scheming, villain manner, but also in the most literal sense of the word. His actions regarding you, and even just the choice to engage with you is weighed against a set of internal scales. Like any savvy businessman, he wants the costs to him to be as minimal as possible while making maximum profit. To him, this is how the world works and there is absolutely nothing wrong with it. So, you would have to bring something to the table as well. Should he help you, then we’re supposed to help him in return. Get a loan from him, then pay it back full and with interest - should you have troubles with that, then he’ll have no problems in … tweaking you or also parts of your life to achieve the desired end result. 

Alfred is also manipulative, and to a horrifying extent. He’d not shy away from restricting your access to information, and sculpting your views to his liking. Even the information that you would be able to get your hands on would be framed to influence you and play on your emotions. He would know a whole array of psychological tricks and shortcuts that he wouldn’t hesitate to use on you. However, if you would do the same to him, he would scream foul. Rules for thee, but not for me indeed. That is a further problem with him - his own perceived exceptionalism dictates that he is above everybody else, and the other’s are just chess pieces on his game board. 

Cornering - How would they get you?

With the carrot and the stick. Ideally, you should never be aware of the stick, though if you put a toe out of line, the stick will become very noticable. In the case that you cooperate, then it would be a Hollywood romance (and like those protagonists in movies, he’ll be similarly incapable of accepting rejection). The future with you should be white and fluffy, akin to a picture-book perfect fantasy. He would also use promises and allusions to such a fate to get you where he wants you. If you have doubts, or if you are a not-so-willing bride, then some pressure would be applied - he would convince your relatives and friends that he’s the best option for you, and have them press-gang you into marrying him. 

Else, he’ll appeal to your naked self-interest, if you have such inclinations. He’ll present himself as the ideal protector, or a way to grant you financial security, or find some other way to awaken your interest. Perhaps you’ll even be convinced that you want the union more than him, that you’re the one using him to your advantage. 

Of course, if push comes to shove, then he would simply abduct you, break you down and rebuild you to his liking. To make an omelette, you have to break a few eggs - that would be his line of thinking if the. Asides, it would all be your fault for not having the right values. 

Expectations - What do they expect of you?

This is the tricky and controversial part. You see, part of Alfred’s expectations, ones that he isn’t even conscious of since he takes them as given, would be that you fit in his world view. What that would entail would be that you hold capitalism and liberalism to be the most progressive forms of politics, that the world must strive towards more freedom and more democracy to reach the end of history, that people are selfish and vainglorious and every interaction between people is nothing more than a transaction. That your lines of thought run on the exact same structures as his do - a liberal, faustian worldview. The matter here is, if you have a different outlook in that regard, then he wouldn’t accept it as valid. You would be declared evil or stupid, or both, by him and he would strive to “save you” and bring you to the light. 

One trait that he would consciously want of you, would be that you’re entertaining. If there is one thing that he wouldn’t tolerate well, then it would be boredom. Don’t induce that in him, don’t let him become bored with you - if you are already in his grasp and he grows disinterested in you, then you’d have a cruel fate ahead of you. Be unpredictable (but not too much, he wants to keep you under lock and key) and challenging to him. In the show that is his life, be either the villian that he must defeat or the love interest that he must save and conquer. . Hence, you'll always have to find ways to be novel and exciting to him - not an easy feat with such a capricious individual. Challenge him, change the rules of the game, make him suffer to have his pleasure. Not too much though - harm could befall you if you make matters too difficult while not having the upper hand. 

Whatsmore, he would expect you to heed him and look up to him. Let him up your knight in shining armour, your shining city on the hill. The trick would be finding the right balance of relenting and resisting; the tricky part would be that this balance would change over time and not in a very predictable fashion. Still, laud and lionise him, make him feel special and wanted. Should he have the feeling that you understand him like no other, then he would be less inclined to throw you away. This could be an advantage or a disadvantage, depending on how your overall standing to each other is. 

Further, he expects you to be of a cheerful disposition. You don't have to be sweet as sugar and everything nice, you are allowed to have a temper and swear and rage from time to time. Blazes, your niceness and optimism is allowed to be very selective. Though, it would have to be in the range of what he would deem as normal. That being said, if you don't entirely fulfil his expectations there, then he wouldn't see it as a dealbreaker. He can "fix" you after all. The end result should then be a person who is committed to him, who greets him at the door and reciprocates his affection. Him and you against the world. Shake your fist at everybody else; it is alright if he is the only one you give your smiles and heart to. 

Beauty is another characteristic that he would seek in a partner. You wouldn't even have to be conventionally beautiful to fulfil his expectations, or even healthy. That being said, he would want you to be pretty in a sense that sickness wouldn't tarnish your looks, like the Victorian ladies that suffered from tuberculosis. In a way, you should be the sort of person that could be cast in a movie. 

Faded - Would they let go of you in any way?

In the case that he would find somebody more enticing, then you would just be casted aside like a ruined doll. Not that he would necessarily throw you out onto the street; it would be more likely that you would be “stored” somewhere, withering away since that you wouldn’t be the centre of his attention anymore. Chances are that he would forget about you, forget to give you sustenance or maintain your hygiene - most likely he’ll only remember you when the stench of your decomposing body reaches his nostrils. That, or he would just drop you off in the middle of nowhere and leave you to fend for yourself. What happens to you beyond that, won’t be his business, or so he would insist.  

On a less macabre front, you could also just slip away in such a scenario and he wouldn’t really care, unless you divulge state secrets and/or sic the police on him. Aside from that, if something else would take up all his attention and commitment, you could actually have a fair chance of making a break for it and staying free forever. By the time he could spend time and attention on you, the trial would have gone cold. Maybe he would even give up on you then. 

Another possibility would be if he would be forced to let you go. Say, if his actions actually lead to negative consequences for him and his power wanes, third parties could intervene and rip you away from him. It could be that he would even become so powerless that he would be forced to live with the outcome. Other than that, there are some lines that even he (or especially he, depending on how you look at it) wouldn’t be able to cross. Should one his rivals take you under their wing, or a weaker person/nation even just successfully hide you, then there would be little he could do about it. 

Punishment - How would they proceed if you do something they disapprove of?

Oh, he can be very harsh. The tricky part with Alfred would be, that he takes a set of ground rules to be self-evident. So, should you break said rules then it wouldn't be because of a misunderstanding, a lack of knowledge or even just an accident. Instead, he would view it as you being purposefully disobedient. That's why you might find yourself spontaneously hulled away and locked in a closet, or tied to the bed. America wouldn't be above giving you a "time-out" in the corner either. 

Else, he would be a fan of white torture. Repeated violation of the ground rules would land you in the white room. You'd stay there for some time, living a very colourless life. Your meals would be white, just like your clothing and bed and overall surrounding. There wouldn't be anything in the room with which you could entertain yourself, just a bolted down bed and a waterless toilet. Other methods that would fall in the same category would be depriving you of sleep, waking you up at random times, or also exposing you to noises that are of very low frequencies. 

Or he would make you live the same day on repeat. The same food, the same books/movies, the same clothes, the same music - those parameters would be fixed, and none of your actions can change anything about it. It would only stop when he decides you've been punished enough. 

Alfred wouldn't resort to physical or sexual abuse to teach you a lesson. Not because he is such a decent person, or because he respects you so deeply, but to keep up appearances. He wouldn't be able to show you in public if you're black and blue, and you should spread your legs for him without him having to pry them apart. Though, if you ask him to lay you over his knee and spank you, then he'll gladly indulge you. And he'll make you ask him or trick you into signing a "permission slip". It would let him punish you as he would deem fit, without ruining the picture of a picture perfect relationship. That being said, if you gain the upper hand, then it would be a different picture. 

Aside from the aforementioned ground rules, there would be variable rules that he would introduce, implement, or discard at will. America would inform you of some of them. However, he is a busy man, and would forget to tell you about changes at times. You'll still be punished, no matter how much you'd protest, though he would be a bit more lenient here from time to time. So it could be some yelling and insults, or it could be him putting you on random medication so that you can suffer from the side effects, and from the intended effects as well. 

Reaction - How would they react to you escaping?

For a short answer - look at all those Hollywood movies. 

For a long answer - shouldering a rifle with a tranquiliser dart and hunting you down like a deer. He'll be tracking your phone and constantly looking into your bank transactions. A missing person report would be put out with a finder's fee or he would have you declared a wanted criminal on some trumped up charges. 

Various surveillance cameras will be monitored and followed, and he'll have agents stationed at airports and the like to intercept you should you appear there. If that wouldn't work, then he'll call in some favours to have somebody stab you in the back and return you to him. 

Should all that fail, then he'll issue an ultimatum to you in a way he would sure that you'll notice. 

Turnabout - Scenario: You have the upper hand? What would be different from their usual MO?

There is a way you could turn the tables without him realising it, or protesting against it too much. The interests of individuals as well as collectives don't always oppose each other, sometimes they align. So, you could manipulate him into doing your bidding by pulling his heart strings or playing on his fears. Since power isn't a zero sum game, and since he has a very skewed view of reality, chances are that he wouldn't even notice. Furthermore, he might be so engrossed with his own "supremacy", that he'll willingly turn a blind eye. 

Though, should he feel threatened or that you're gaining more power over him, then all hell would break loose. Defamation would ensue, and he would do anything to drag your reputation through the mud, with tactics and assertions that would seem straight up ludicrous the longer this situation would play out. Should matters escalate, then he would resort to even graver tactics right up to killing you. With his status under threat, he would pull guns out on you, break your bones, or even strangle you. 

Vengeance - What would they do in the face of competition?

If the person can be bought, they will be bought. Alfred would just through some meaningless things their way to get them to pipe down, make some empty promises, make them sell their soul to him. He would love the opportunity to pull the rug from under them, and he would surely find a way. The despair that they would display is something that he would live for. 

Naturally, there are other methods he would apply. Such as threats and physical intimidation. In those cases, he might end up acting too much like a Disney villain. Funny how the heroes become the villains, eh? As such, he wouldn't have any guilt in swinging his fists and granting his unfortunate opponent a trip to the hospital. The whole affair would be depicted as him defending your honour. 

And if the person goes missing to never be seen again, then what can he do about it? Any and all clues that would point to him being involved would be purely coincidental. 

[karlastarion]

I'm so curious about Kagha, because she's so different from Halsin. She and Halsin are both wood elves, and I get the sense that Kagha is probably not ~young~ but she's not nearly as old as Halsin. When you deal with the Shadow Druids, she's very quick to defer to him and treat him like a teacher she's disappointed. He probably mentored her, if he's chosen her as his second in command - though, I would bet it's in more of a general thing in the way that the First Druid is everyone's mentor, rather than the clearly more direct and specific mentorship he has with Nettie as a healer.

Canonically, Halsin isn't an exceptionally good leader. He's not bad at it, and he has good instincts. He correctly surmises that after the dust-up with Kagha and the tieflings, the Emerald Grove needs an outsider to step in and lead without being tied to any particular grudges or politics. That's savvy enough that I think Halsin was a good First Druid, he just wasn't especially good or great at it and clearly didn't like the position. At worst, I think he let some situations fester because of his focus on the Shadow Curse.

But I'm not ready to say that he didn't realize Kagha was a proverbial snake in the grass ~the whole time~, because I don't think she was. I think she was genuinely and recently radicalized by the Shadow Druids. I think she probably had something of an edge before, maybe she was a hardass or had a mean streak or something. Regardless of how I feel about the quality of the Shadow Druid subplot (which is that I think its pacing is meh and Kagha's face-turn is way too fast and kind of shitty), I think it speaks to the fact that her care for the Grove is genuine. That perhaps Halsin's failure with her wasn't in not realizing she was A Bad Person Actually, but in not tending to her insecurities or noticing that she might be feeling isolated, if she was so effectively shaken by the Shadow Druids' fearmongering.

The recent wave of IRL cults should have taught us all by now that everyone is susceptible to cult tactics if they're sufficiently scared and alone, and BG3 is a game riddled with various cults. You don't have to already be a bad person, or a stupid or weak person, to fall for them. And I think Kagha's story is way less interesting if you just think she's an evil power hungry shrew too stupid to keep herself from being radicalized.

She clearly has a nasty streak, but her apologies and regrets also sound sincere, if you manage to hear them. Even when she isn't "redeemed", she accepts her punishments, even if she does so bitterly and not believing she was wrong. And I have to wonder just how much of that mean streak is self-defensive rather than inherent in her, how much of it is that she struggles to admit failure and learn from it. Or how much is her modeling Halsin's level of single-minded commitment, picking a methodology or an action and throwing all of her weight behind it, even when it may no longer be working.

I wish characters like Kagha got nearly as much love and fandom development and benefit of the doubt as someone like Ketheric. I think she has a ton of potential for that, and way fewer crimes to her name than other fandom favorites who just happen to also be, you know. Men.