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nochuvalencia · 3 years

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𝐁 𝐁 𝐇 𝐌 𝐌 - jjk

I was basically inspired by these ^^^ pics of jk bc wow hot hi

⚠️ ALSO QUICK DISCLAIMER :: this is my first fanfic on here so it might be terrible but enjoy anyway. ⚠️

𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 :: reader x crimeboss!jk

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 :: bitch you better have his money.

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 :: ABSOLUTE SMUTTY FILTH heh angst too ig

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 :: 11.9k

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 :: long haired tatted jk, that’s it, that’s the warning, uh kinda sketchy plot hsjsjsj, WOW ANGST ASF at the beginning tho, dub!con towards the middle don’t hurt me, fuck or die ig, gunplay????? yeah????? jks BLATANT OVERUSE of pet names, dacryphillia, major-ish character death, describing the injuries on a dead body, jk has a sir kink ig??? um excessive over exaggerated choking bc jks hands yum, explicit seggs, rough jk, he’s kinda mean, dom!jk, sub!reader, oral m&f receiving (facefucking on both ends), coochie sniff if you squint, coochie slaps if u squint too, spanking, OVERSTIMULATION, unprotected seggs, degradation, he calls her a bitch once idk, other bad names, praise too ig, jk gives an ultimatum, SLIGHT aftercare, he kinda like switches from flirty to murderous like a bunch of times it’s kinda weird, jk has an impossibly huge shlong obv, contemplating death, super mature themes, reader is a BIG fucking crybaby, overuse of the word fuck, corruption kink at the end if u squint super hard, also DUB!CON in case you didn’t see it, at this point I should just write what it doesn’t have

“If you’re not out of my house in 3.4 seconds, I'm dragging you out by the testicles” you uttered, your alarmingly calm voice laced with raw brutality as hot tears cascaded down your burning cheeks, your arm outstretched and pointed toward the blinding light of the hallway that contrasted with your dark bedroom. You said nothing more, with your eyes trained angrily at one of the four blank tan walls nearby, not possibly being able to bear speaking to or sparing a glance into the eyes of a cheating whore. The woman you had just caught him with scurried past you wearily, a terrified and confused glint in her eyes as she passed your frigid frame sans underwear, with her sparkly silver pumps dangling from her fingers and a wrinkly silver dress hanging limply from the clutches of her other hand. The man in question shuffled cautiously around the bed, clutching the exposed parts of his body and approaching you with extreme hesitation and outstretched hands, as if trying to calm the already blazing flames of your fury. He laid a cold, rough hand on your shoulder squeezing softly, a motion that once brought you comfort but only added the all consuming hatred that bubbled up inside you akin to ravenous bile filling up the pit of your belly. “Did you not hear what I said? Get out.” You spat, glossy eyes still pointed toward anything but him.

“____ please” he croaked, like the slimy frog he truly was, his voice dripping in false agony which only neared you closer to the brink of undoubtedly committing an act of extreme violence against that man. “Please baby it wasn’t-'' you blanked. He was about to make an excuse. A stupid, rediculous, horrible, completely false excuse which you had absolutely no patience to hear. So you snapped, harshly shrugging your shoulder and sending his arm flying back to his side. He stepped back, ceasing his incessant chatter as he stared at you, a surprised expression painting his “pained” features. He wasn’t accustomed to you acting like this, you were never one to raise your voice or act out in any sort of way so he stood there, eyes widened in dumbfounded silence and you took this chance, bending down, scooping up as much of his discarded clothing as you possibly could and throwing it in his face, your rage bubbling over into something much more carnal as you inhaled deeply through your nose.

“Shut the fuck up and leave!” He scrambled to catch as many clothes as he could and was taken aback by your abrupt outburst. He stood silent once again though this time, he was making the face he often made when forcing himself to cry. It was the face he made around his mother to get out of family responsibilities. The face he made around his friends when guilt tripping them into buying him drinks, and now he's using it for you. To guilt you into taking pity on his pathetic actions which merely was the catalyst for your unforgiving violence. In an instant you were behind him, heaving him out of the door with your bare hands, pushing with all your might, using the immense pain coursing through your limbs as motivation to drive his beefy frame further and further out of the bedroom, down the hallway, into the living room and closer to the door yelling “I said leave! Leave! Now!” Pushing harder and harder with every word you choked out. The tears began to flow faster, clouding and distorting your vision as your face contorted into an expression of pure anguish until finally, he was forced out of the open doorway and into the main hallway of your apartment building. You promptly slammed the door in his face and the only thought traveling though your mind was ‘thank god she left that door open’ because you wouldn’t have been able to force him through it otherwise.

You stood silently for a few seconds, back to the door, face still slick with tears as the cool wood on your back shook senselessly with every beat of his fist and muffled shout of his voice crying phrases like “____ open the fuking door!” , “this is my apartment too baby come on” and other variations of the sort. Your mind was empty while you remained there, letting the harsh reality sink in like the slowest molasses. You allowed that man, that pig, to take 10 years of your life. 10 years of your prime. 10 years that you'll never get back no matter how much you beg and plead for it. Come to think of it, you had shaped your entire life around him. His influence was there no matter how much you wished it wasn’t. His residue staining your life like the blackest ink of which you would never be able to rid yourself. At the surfacing of these thoughts, you’d finally broke down and cried, like ugly cried. Broken heaves and sobs escaped your throat until you felt like you were suffocating as you slid down the door, not caring if he heard your wails and whines of torment on the other side of the polished mahogany. You actually hoped he did hear, you wanted him to hear the anguish and grief he put you through. You wanted him to hear you cry out all of your attachment and love for him until there was none left, so he knows the tears flowing from your body hold all of the affection you harbor for him. All ten years of attraction flowing out in a gigantic tsunami of grief that can only end in a new start.

Your mind played through all the memories, and the small amount of good times you had with each other while you sobbed mercilessly, also coming to the realization that he never did anything for you. Ever since you were 14 you’d been changing everything about yourself for him, while he merely lived his life, dragging you along like a supportive little puppy and rewarding you with cheap token gifts and mediocre sex once in a blue moon.

He wanted to attend university in your hometown so you abandoned your dream school, which accepted you, to attend a closer college. He made the decision to study abroad, so you had to drop everything and move to Australia for him. He wanted to wait to have kids so you froze your fucking eggs for him. He got a great new job at a large company in Asia, so you dropped everything again and moved to South Korea. You learned Korean for him. You have the same friends as him. You even cut a few family members off because he was “uncomfy” around them. He wouldn’t even go down on you because it also made him ‘uncomfy’, which should’ve been a red flag from the start. You did all of this bullshit in the haze of love. The promise that he’d reciprocate all of it in affection and adoration, which he didn’t, and now you’re sitting in your living room bawling your brains out because you were too lovestruck to see the signs.

After sobbing hysterically for what seemed like hours, you’d sat limply in front of your door, slouching back onto it as if it were a plush armchair and staring blankly into space, your mind completely empty. Feeling overwhelmed and exhausted beyond belief, you leaned forward, groaning in anguish as your tired muscles cried out in distress after being immobile for more than four hours. Crawling over to the couch, you tiredly flung your nearly paralyzed body onto the soft cushions with a sigh, not even bothering to pull the fluffy throw blanket over your body as your entire frame began to steadily shut down. Before your eyes completely shut, you caught a glimpse of the clock perched on the wooden tv stand which read 11:11 and scoffing quietly as you thought to yourself, ‘I thought that was supposed to mean good luck’ and you gave in to the delicious expanse of slumber.

You were startled awake by the incessant pounding of your now ex-boyfriends fist on the door, again. For the past 4 days since you’d forced him out, he’d show up outside your door at the ass crack of dawn just banging on the door profusely, as if that would persuade you to open it an inch. He had a schedule, he’d come at 5am, before he went off to work, then at 12:30 on his lunch break, then again at 9:45 just to make you miserable before you went to bed. You’re actually surprised the neighbors haven’t complained to the landlords yet. You tossed the blanket off of your sticky body, kicking and thrashing wildly due to the annoyance caused by that nuisance.

You cried more times than you can count during these last 4 days, especially during the times he would attempt to win you over with sappy shit like “baby, you’re my everything, you’re all i’ve ever wanted”, the lyrics to one of your favorite songs or, “you’re my forever ____, you can’t just throw 10 years away babe” to which you cried about for 3 hours after he’d said it, after realizing that he actually wasted 10 fucking years of your life. Anger bubbled up in the pit of your stomach as you listened to the repetitive banging of his fist and at this point you had enough and came to the decision it was finally time to pack his shit. Stomping into the living room, you grabbed a necessary box of bags that sat on the coffee table in the center of the room, figuring you were ready to use it. With a final nod of your head, you marched into your shared bedroom and opened all of the cabinets and drawers that contained the plethora of his belongings and flinging them on the floor, grabbing the box of xl trash bags you’d snagged on your march in here and started tossing things in left and right, not caring about the brand name or the state of the fabric or anything for that matter. All you saw was red as your eyes welled up with tears for the first and probably not last time that day.

“I can’t do this” you sobbed out, voice hoarse as you fell to your knees, ignoring the rugburn that was soon to form on those areas as your shoulders shook with every harsh breath you took. You had been dreading this task. Dreading it only for its significance that once you packed all his things and tossed them out, your relationship would be truly over. You definitely didn’t want him back but this would be the first time you’ve been alone in 10+ years and you were not certain you were prepared for that let alone wanting it. Inhaling shakily, you sniffed, ridding your face of any moisture as you cleared your throat and walked back into the kitchen, grabbing the bottle of chardonnay from your anniversary that fell on the week prior and venturing back into the closet to resume your task. You weren’t much of a drinker but for this task, you’d need a bottle or two.

A few hours later, he’d finally went off to work and you sat in the doorway of the closet, drunkenly dressed in the wedding gown you were made to be wed in this summer still combing through all of his clothing and tossing them messily into a bag that laid open on the floor beside you. You took a swig from the bottle, hissing softly at the satisfying burn that seared it’s way down your throat and rubbing at your puffy eyes with the knuckle of your index finger. The closet was mostly bare, except for a rack with some of his clothes and one rack of semi-expensive clothing his cheap ass reluctantly purchased for you and you glanced around, catching a glimpse of some ugly floral fabric in the corner of the small space. Getting on your hands and knees you reached a limp hand out, taking hold of the horrendous fabric and dragging it out with a groan, eyes wide at the surprising heft of the object in your hand.

It was a pillowcase. A pillowcase full of something brick shaped. You raised an eyebrow quizzically before reaching into the bag and pulling out a fat stack of cash. Taking a sharp intake of breath you paused, staring blankly at the wrapped wad in your hand and cocking your head to the side. You peeked over into the bag after a few minutes, eyes popping out of your skull as they feasted on more huge stacks of money. It was Korean currency but there had to be at least 250k USD worth in the entire sack. You furrowed your brows, tossing the money back into the pillowcase forcefully as a tornado of thoughts whirled in your mind. Had he been saving behind your back? Was he planning on getting rich then eventually hanging you out to dry for some younger girl? How long has he had all of this? Where the fuck did it all come from?

You looked back at the money then back at the corner you found it in, squinting as you spotted some more ugly purple fabric. Crawling behind the clothing earnestly, you managed to fish out 4 more pillowcases full of money. You stifled a laugh, having never been in the presence of so much currency, you guessed it had to be more than 1 million dollars. You smiled for the first time in 4 days, lips curling up into a wide joy filled expression as you dumped all of the money onto the rugged floor of the closet. With all of the alcohol coursing through your veins, (almost a whole bottle) you didn’t hesitate to grab the biggest tote bag you own and stuff as much money as it could hold inside. You figured it was the least he could do after cheating on you.

He deserved to pay, and you obviously deserved a raise.

It was a full on shopping spree. After throwing all of his shit into bags, you tossed them outside your door and left with as much money as you could carry before he could come back on his lunch break. You even came back to get some more money, just to go out and spend it again. To say you splurged would be an understatement, you spent almost half of the money on clothes, shoes, a hair and makeup appointment, a manicure, a new car, and you even paid rent for six months after taking his name off the lease.

So here you were, struggling up the stairs as quick as you could, due to the fact that it was 9:30 and you were trying to avoid seeing him at his 9:45 visit. Your feet screamed in agony in your new jimmy choo pumps, because you’d been on them all day, and you had at least six shopping bags hanging from each arm, all full with an assortment of gaudy items such as shoe boxes, makeup products, and clothing. You had finally reached the door after a while, smiling at the absence of his bags which meant he took them and swiftly unlocked the door, clamoring in and tiredly dropping the bags in your hands. With a sigh, you locked the door, running a hand through your freshly styled hair as you rid your face of the designer sunglasses that shielded it. Kicking off your shoes, you hummed gratifyingly at the pleasurable feeling of bare feet and shuffled over to your couch, plopping down on the end cushion groggily.

A soft buzz in your back pocket caught your attention as you carefully fished out the new phone you purchased and unlocked it with your perfectly manicured fingers, raising an eyebrow quizzically as the texts rolled in, ‘i thought i blocked him’ you thought, preparing to do it a second time before a few texts caught your attention and you froze on the spot, chuckling heartlessly at his words.

+82 2 2263 5950 : whose car is in our parking spot?

+82 2 2263 5950 : did you already move on?

+82 2 2263 5950 : wow whore

You rolled your eyes, wondering where he attained the gaul to accuse you of a feat such as that. Calling you a whore as if that name isn’t suitable for himself. Even more so than you. You decided to text him back, feeding off of an unknown source of confidence as your fingers furiously tapped along the screen.

me : it’s my car asshole

me : bought it with the money u left me

me :thx baby <3

+82 2 2263 5950 : what money?

me : the money in the closet you didn’t bother telling me abt u dumb fuck

+82 2 2263 5950 : don’t use that money

me : why should i listen to you?

me : you aren’t my bf

+82 2 2263 5950 : no seriously ____ don’t use that money wtf is wrong with u

me : already did bye babe

You blocked him as quickly as you could, face burning with absolute anger as you tossed your phone on the cushion beside you. Who is he to tell you what you could or couldn’t do? You had come to the decision then and there that you wouldn't let him treat you like a child. He wasn’t your dad. Thanks to him you barely speak to your dad. The only thought going through your mind at the time was ‘fuck him.’ Before you could delve into your thoughts any further, it started. His incessant pounding on the door. Again. Although, this time it was much more frantic, desperate. He was much louder with his pathetic pleas and whines, crying out “please don’t use that money!”, “Listen to me god damn it!”, “___ open the fucking door now!” But you stood your ground, ignoring him once again as you did for the past few days.

Just to escape the racket of his wails of desperation, you retreated to your room, slipping on one of his expensive balenciaga sweatshirts you kept for yourself and climbing into the cool blankets, burying yourself under the plush fabric and folding your pillow over your ears. You knew this would be the longest night of your life..

And you were correct, It was the longest night of your life. He never truly got the memo that you would not be coming out to communicate with him so he finally left at around 1:30 in the morning. You had slept horribly, tossing and turning as the aftermath of his cries and pleads left a print on your mind and tormented you at all hours of the night, you didn’t manage to get any real sleep until around eight and woke up a mere five hours later in a state of confusion. It was well past noon and yet it was silent, you had woken up of your own volition, not because of some crazy man outside of your apartment screaming like a banshee. In due time, you had come to the conclusion that he had finally given up and gone about his day without banging on his ex-girlfriend's apartment door like an idiot at all hours of the day.

This theory was almost set in your mind until you heard a knock. Groaning violently, you stared up at your ceiling, eyebrows furrowed as you erased that theory from the whiteboard in your cortex. Fully prepared to ignore the person at the door, you rolled over to your side until another knock was heard. This wasn’t him. This couldn’t be him. The knocks were way too soft, they lacked an element of urgency, desperation. They were simply just way too calm. So, you sat up, swinging your legs over and reluctantly standing up, before making your way into the living room to be greeted with another knock and a smooth male voice calling out. “Miss ___ ___?”

You glanced wearily though your peep hole to be met with a tall male, dressed in a blue and white uniform. “Looks like a cop. He called the fucking cops on me, shit.” you whispered to yourself, voice small as you held onto the door handle. Figuring it’d be worse to make him wait, you opened the door, being met with the warm, dimpled smile, of the decorated individual. “Yes, i”m ____” you respond, shoving your hands into the pockets of your sweatshirt and looking everywhere but him, which probably seems more suspicious than anything but you were too riddled with anxiety to care. The officer clutched a navy blue manilla folder in his hand and opened it promptly in order to sift through its contents.

“Hi, i’m officer Kim.” he breathed out, calmly bowing and resuming his apparent spiel, “do you know this man?” he pondered, raising an eyebrow quizzically as he pulled a photo from his folder with calloused fingers and lifted it, spinning it around to face you. Your eyes widened slightly upon being shown a picture of your ex and you nodded hesitantly.

“He’s my ex boyfriend- well ex fiance I guess.” you responded, voice barely audible as your mind raced faster than the speed of sound. You asked yourself what he could’ve done that was bad enough for the police to show up at your door. Maybe you had been too harsh on him and he had gotten into one to many bar fights, maybe he robbed a bank at gunpoint, maybe he stole some old lady’s car and filled it with off brand mayonnaise before he returned it. All your questions- all your thoughts stopped as Officer Kim responded, running a tired hand through his hair.

“He passed, earlier today.” he paused, giving you time to digest things and you froze, staring at his face blankly as your mind processed what you had just been told and you hummed questioningly, your throat becoming tight with realization. “It happened around five this morning,” he paused again as you stood in complete silence. Sure you hated him but you’d never wish death upon another person, especially him. You hate him now but you were in love with him once too. You hate him now but, he was the closest person in your life. He was all of your firsts, your fiance, your best friend. You thought you wouldn’t be able to get all of that back because of the breakup but now you truly can never get any of it back, because he’s dead. Then, you started to cry, for the hundredth time this week but this one was different. You weren’t crying because you missed him, or wanted him to come back like all the other times, as horrible as it sounds. You were crying because you felt bad. Because of his short life that was ripped from him by the unforgiving hand of death. You weren’t crying because of him, you were crying for him. A hand on your shoulder interrupted your sobs and you wiped your face, glancing up at the culprit with glassy eyes. “I’m so sorry for your loss...” he paused, giving you a few moments to breathe as he rubbed your shoulder comfortingly before speaking again, “but we have an idea of who did it, it would be helpful if you just came down to the station with me for some questioning.” he asked softly as the shaking sobs and whimpers that came from your body slowed to a halt and you nodded.

“Yeah, uh. Let me just go get dressed.” You muttered, smiling up at him softly and shuffling back to your room to prepare. The longest night of your life was about to turn into the longest day.

And you were correct again as you stood in front of your apartment door after the absolute, and I cannot stress this enough, longest day of your life. Your ex was murdered, brutally, and they made sure to go over all of the gory details with you while you were at the precinct, they even took you to see his body, which made you cry because it was mangled almost beyond recognition and you were horrified. Apparently, he had been tortured for hours, which explained all the bruises, gashes, and burn marks on his body, strangled, thus the huge ring shaped mark around his neck, and dumped into a river, which made his body all pruny and wrinkled. You had spent 10 long hours at the police precinct and it was now nearing midnight as you fished your keys from your pocket in order to unlock the door. Inserting your key, you jiggle it around in the lock for a minute before realizing it was already unlocked initially. Figuring you had left it unlocked accidentally in your depressed haze, you pushed your way into your apartment and locked it promptly, pressing your forehead into the cool wood of the door. You sighed softly, relaxing only for a minute as you absorbed your surroundings before freezing as you heard the rhythmic tapping of someone's foot.

“Long day huh?” the voice was deep, one you hadn’t heard before as you remained facing the door, your grip of the handle tightening until your knuckles turned white. He spoke again, “you must be ____.” he murmured softly, sending a terrified shudder down your spine. “I’ve been wanting to meet you but he said you were off limits. You know, he talks about you a lot-...” he stopped himself as if realizing something, “well talked, I mean.” the man mused, an ominous chuckle flowing from his mouth.

“Who are you?” you rasped, attempting to conceal any cowardice but blinking your eyes harshly as your voice broke. You vaguely hoped this was one of your ex’s friends coming to visit, at an odd hour of the night, sitting ominously in the dark of your apartment waiting for you to come home just to say hi but the chances of that actuality was very slim.

“None of your business” the man retorted, a smirk evident in his ominous tone. “Now, let’s get down to business little dove,” you furrowed your brows at the nickname. You had never been called a nickname, especially by a man who randomly just snuck into your apartment one night. Your ex only ever called you baby or babe so little dove was different for you. It seemed endearing in the worst type of way. “I want the rest of my money.” he paused, “I found half of it in a closet here, and he said you might know where the rest is.” he paused again, only this time a sound is heard, a metal rattling of some sort that ricochets off of the walls of the apartment like a stray jumping bean in a pill case. Then it hits you, he has a gun, and he just shook it as if he intends to use it. . “Don’t make me ask again sweetheart.” Your eyes widen and well up as your head falls down, knowing you're going to die today and you take a deep breath, telling yourself you’d be ready for whatever happens so you decide, if you’re gonna die, you should at least know the name of the man that’s gonna kill you so you scrape together every last drop of confidence you can muster and ask once more.

“I said, w-who are yo-” you choked out, in an attempt to hold onto the last shred of your dignity as you blinked back the tears threatening to fall from your glassy eyes. However, your small shred of confidence is promptly ripped from your grasp as the man cuts you off mid sentence, slamming his gun down onto a hard surface with a loud clatter. You jolt, crying out softly as the tears you’d been holding back with all your might fall onto the ground before you.

“I said none of your fucking business bitch where’s my fucking money.” he spat, his sinister tone draing a choked sob from your thoat as you realized, you wouldn’t be getting anything you wanted today. “Answer me” he said, alarmingly calm as the sound of him cocking his gun travels directly to your mind.

“I spent it” you muttered between your soft hiccups and stiffened slightly upon hearing a heavy footstep approach you, then another footstep, and another, and another until they cease, and you can feel the man's warm breath raising the hair on the back of your neck. All your readiness for whatever happens and willingness to die flies out of the window as you lean your head on the door once more, taking a shaky breath as you begin to plead, aware of how pathetic you sound and part of the reason why you have such a strong urge to cry harder. “Please don’t kill me” you whined desperately as you feel the cold metal of the gun barrel resting on your shoulder.

“Relax little dove” he whispered, his lips brushing the back of your ear and sending a chill rushing through the entire expanse of your body. “Just find a way to pay me back and we’re even,” he continued calmly, his raspy voice reverberating in your eardrums as you think through what he just said carefully. You gasp and sniffle, shaking your head softly and lifting it slowly from the wooden door frame.

“I-” you stopped, taking a deep breath and preparing yourself as much as you could for his response then opened your mouth to continue. “I don’t have that kind of money” you whispered hesitantly, shutting your eyes tightly, allowing nothing to escape but the numerous tears that fell to the ground in anticipation of his actions. There was an eerie silence as he contemplated your words before he abruptly turned away, lifting the gun from your shoulder and holstering it in the waistband of his jeans, causing you to let out a wavering breath you’d been holding that entire time. His hand traveled back up, taking refuge on your left shoulder as the other hand made its way up your right arm, the warmth setting your skin aflame and sending a shockwave of warmth coursing through your body.

“There is another way you could pay me back.” his velvet voice rasped, stressing the word ‘another’ in a way that you immediately understood his insinuation and you took a sharp intake of air, bracing yourself for what he was about to say next. But he didn’t say anything for a moment, letting his hands do the talking for him as he gripped your arms softly, using his hands to spin you around and face him. You whirled around, yelping in surprise but stopping when you were met with the most exquisite, carnivorous brown eyes you had ever seen in your life that were accompanied by full pink lips and a tousled bunch of fluffy black hair you just wanted to run your hands through. Even in the darkness of night, the moonlight streaming through the kitchen window illuminated the room enough for you to trail your eyes down his face and get a vivid idea of what he’d look like with illumination.

Yummy as fuck.

Your eyes began to wander down to his exposed collarbone and before they could travel any lower, his fingers roughly grabbed your chin, forcing your gaze upward until you met his borderline cannibalistic gaze, which crushed you into nothing. He cocked his head to the side, a mischievous glint in his eyes as the corner of his lips turn upward slightly. “He was always bragging about you… saying,” he speaks, his sultry tone lulling you into a state of compliance as he spoke, “you’re such a good fuck,” he continues, placing his left hand gently on your waist and stepping even closer, if that’s possible, his soft breath hitting your face with every word as he speaks. “Your sweet little cunt is so tight” he glances down at your lips, running his thumb over your bottom lip “your mouth feels like heaven” he pauses again, running his hand down to hold the side of your neck softly to which you gasp “maybe i’d like a demonstration little dove.” he smiles, a twisted horrifying smile that snaps you out of his seductive trance and back to reality as your eyes widen and you pull yourself quickly out of his hold, running over to the couch and bracing yourself on it.

“No” you cry out, out of breath for some reason as you swallow thickly and shake your head. “No, I'll find a way to pay you back, I promise.” you plead, praying he wasn’t going to kill you on the spot and that he hadn’t noticed your blatant ogling. He probably did but at this point you didn’t care, you just wanted him gone.

“Whatever you say sweetheart” he replied, emitting a dark chuckle “call me if you change your mind, my number’s in your phone” he opened the front door and you glanced back at him, noticing the way his all black attire contrasts with his tan skin, and most of all, you notice the full sleeve of tattoos that ran down his right arm. Heat crawled up to your face as you realized you were gawking again and you nodded in response, feeling unable to form the words to respond with. He only uttered the words “you have a week.” before the door slammed and you were left alone in the dark.

You ran your fingers along the side of your neck where the aftermath of his touch lingered like a searing residue. No one had ever touched you like that, especially your ex. He was the man that took your virginity and was the man there for every time after so you’d become accustomed to his textbook missionary vanilla sex that left you touch starved and unfinished every. single. time. But you’d finish yourself off each time, feeling bad because you thought he was trying his hardest and truly didn’t understand how to please women. But as time went on, you realized he didn’t care about your pleasure and too enveloped in his own release to ever worry about your needs, but were too deep in love with him to care.

Your thoughts were interrupted when your phone went off to signal a text and upon picking it up there were two text messages from an unknown number that sent a shiver down your spine which read.

+82 2 5284 8735 : don’t try to run

+82 2 5284 8735 : we’ll hunt you down little dove

“Can’t you just take the shit back?” You questioned frantically, clutching the phone by your head until your knuckles turned white, rolling your eyes tiredly when you got no response. “They hung up, great” you deadpanned, plopping onto the couch you had been pacing in front of. It has been 6 days since the man showed up and you were running out of time and hadn’t slept in two days, your mind running frantically with the thought of him coming back to see you nearly empty handed. Well, not exactly empty handed. You had managed to get 253k of the whopping +400k dollars you had spent of his money and after not being able to return the car, manicure, hair appointment, rent, and a bunch of clothes and shoes, you were manic. Some might even say a bit crazy. Many of the stores and the dealership knew you by name because of the amount of times you called them. You dropped your phone into your lap, burying your face in your hands and wishing someone was here to console you through this but the only person you knew even remotely enough to offer any consolation was your ex. You wish he was alive so you could punch that bitch in the face and ask him what kind of shit he got himself into because the man that paid you a visit was most definitely not from corporate.

You sat for a silent minute deliberating if you should text the mystery man and take him up on his offer. You had asked yourself, is it really worth your life? Were you really going to die because you didn’t want to sleep with the hot guy you stole money from? The answer at first was yes because you still had your pride intact then but now, you had been starting to second guess your confidence in getting all the money back. After all, the deadline is tomorrow. You still had your hesitations, the only man who has ever seen you in such a lewd nature was your ex. You didn’t know if you were ready for sex with another person, even if he was the hottest man you’d ever seen. But, against your better nature, you convinced yourself that your ex was gone and this was bound to happen sooner or later, so why not sooner?

You grabbed your phone in earnest before anything inside you could convince you to stop and unlocked it, opening the messages for his number and typing out your text, hitting send before any sort of regret had the chance to sink in.

me : i’ll take your offer

me : this is ____ btw

You placed your phone down on the couch cushions beside you and chewed nervously on the not so fresh manicure that was still on your nails. To your surprise, his reply came in quickly and you frantically reached for your phone as the dings came rolling in.

+82 2 5284 8735 : i know who you are

+82 2 5284 8735 : i'll be there in 20

+82 2 5284 8735 : be ready sweetheart

Your heart thumped restlessly as you shot up from your seat shouting “twenty minutes?!” and you cried out nervously. You hadn’t even seen his face in good lighting and you didn't know his name so you’d basically be fucking a complete stranger which scared you enough as it is but the fact that that stranger held you at gunpoint merely a week prior is what scared you shitless.

In the limited time that he gave you, you decided to freshen up a bit so you hopped in the shower. Your first shower in a few days after your psychotic state worsened. Humming in bliss, you relished in the feeling of the scalding water flowing over your skin as you took your time washing , shaving, and singing, in an attempt to rid yourself of the horrendous nerves that overtook your senses. After reluctantly stepping out of the steamy oasis, you’d decided on a white lingerie set you had gotten yourself for christmas but never got to wear for anyone because your significant other was always “working” or too tired/busy to take the time of day for you. Pairing the set with a matching white silk robe and not bothering to wear any shoes because you’re in your own house, you slicked your lips in a thick coat of gloss and applied some mascara and eyeliner to your tired eyes just to spruce up a bit. You figured, if you put effort into your appearance, then maybe he’d spare your life after the sex. You stared at yourself in the mirror, tying your robe, smacking your glossed lips together and ogling your appearance before a soft knocking was heard from the living room. “He’s here” you told yourself with a deep shaky breath as you vacated the bathroom and slowly ventured toward the door.

You stood silently before the front door, contemplating whether this was a mistake or if it was too late to turn back. As much as you hated to admit, there was no logical solution to your problem that was in compliance with any standing laws. Heck, what you were doing was probably illegal in everywhere but Las Vegas so you had no other choice than to twist the handle, open the door and stare up at the most alluring man you had ever laid eyes on. You ran your eyes all over his body, studying him, his features, his gorgeous eyes, impeccable nose, plush lips, smooth hair, and strong arms that lead to a presumed strong chest hidden under his plain white tee. He noticed you blatantly checking him out to which he placed a finger on your chin, lifting your face up so your eyes met and making you watch as he rolled his bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it for a moment. Oh how you wished that was your lip.

“You ready little dove?” he asked, his tone seductive and smooth like chocolate as he walked closer to you, closing the door behind him and backing you up until you stood patiently before the couch staring up at him, a wistful glint in your eyes as you nodded. He reached up, using a finger to push your robe off of your right shoulder and cocking his head quizzically. “All dressed up just for me?” he pondered, his eyes trained on the white lace peeking out from under the robe. You nodded, to which he gripped your chin roughly, furrowing his eyebrows at your response. “Use your words sweetheart” he warned, loosening his grip so you could speak in affirmation.

“Yes…” your voice trailed off, thinking of what to call him, as you still didn’t know his name, so you addressed him as you would any man you didn’t know, “yes, sir. I dressed up just for you” you concluded, your voice barely greater than a whisper as the corners of his lips turned up. He let out an animalistic growl at the name you gave for him, obviously satisfied and moved his hand from your chin to grip the back of your neck promptly.

“It’s Jungkook, but sir will do nicely” he basically growled before latching onto your lips with carnal aggressiveness. You whined heartily into his mouth as his tongue slipped deftly into yours and intertwined with yours, causing your mind to fall into a haze as he coiled his arm around your waist, bringing your body flush against his toned frame. You reached up with shaky hands, fumbling with his shirt, eager to get it off of him and gaze upon the expanse of his abdomen. His lips detached for a moment, giving you the chance to pull his shirt over his head, which he gladly obliged and lifted his hands over his head, swiftly resuming their positions when his shirt formed a pile on the floor beside you. You leaned back in, attempting to capture his lips in another phenomenal kiss but he pulled back, leaving you to chase him and whine when you ultimately lose, to which he laughs mischievously, taking his hands off of your body and toying with the silk tie on the front of your robe.

“How do you want it baby?” he pondered, the new nickname sending shivers down your spine as you glanced at him quizzically, as if asking what he meant. He chuckled softly, tugging at the ribbon and opening your robe as he brought his hands up, carefully sliding it down your arms and bending down so his face was level with your collarbone. He placed a gentle kiss there, leaving fire in the wake of his lips as he spoke, his breath cooling the seared flesh, “would you like me to be gentle?” he asked leaving more hot kisses along the expanse of your shoulder and neck, drawing salacious sounds from your parted lips as he brought his hand up to rest at the base of your neck. “Or…” he paused, sliding his hand up and increasing the intensity of his grip on your throat, restricting the blood flow to your brain as your mind became hazy and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. “Do you want me to be rough?” he continued, lifting his head to watch your face as he loosened his grip. “It’s your choice little dove.”

You were elated, ecstatic and a little disappointed when he loosened his grip on your neck. Your ex was always into sex that lindered toward the vanilla side, as mentioned before, so he would never think to try anything like choking, which always intrigued you just a little bit. You wished you would have experienced other styles of love before you met him but you didn't, and this was your chance to try them out now. Your fingers travelled up, lightly grazing over that hand that was tightly wrapped around your neck. Whining quietly you rolled your bottom lip between your teeth, biting it softly as your other hand came up and wrapped around Jungkook’s forearm.

“I wanna try it rough” you mumbled, eyes closing as you relished in the hazy feeling this restriction gave you which only heightened as he tightened his grip.

“Perfect.” he groaned out almost inaudibly as he pulled your face to his, colliding your lips in the roughest, most passion filled kiss you’d ever experienced. He devoured your mouth with gluttonous amusement, his grip on your airway never wavering for a moment as he tongued you down, his carnal need prevalent and present in the thick air of the room. You reached up, completing a task you’d been wanting to do for days, tangling your hand in the messy black mass that fell upon his head, and relishing in the soft feeling of his waves. Then he detached from your lips and moved away, forcing your hands to fall from his hair and onto his broad shoulders, which, while pleasurable to touch, didn’t even come close to frolicking your fingers through his locks. He moved his hand from your neck to your shoulder, to which you whined with a small pout, missing the new contact as he chuckled at your eagerness. He stared at your lips, before leaning down and capturing your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down on it voraciously before he spoke. “Do you want me to put this slutty little mouth of yours to use little dove?” he asked, pulling back as if waiting for an answer, to which you obliged.

“Yes sir” You answered quite honestly in fact, as you felt all your hesitation and weariness about this task slip away. “Please put my mouth to use.” you pleaded, staring up at him, a wanton expression on your soft features.

“You’re so good for me .” he whispered, his soft breath fanning your face as you nodded in agreement, “such an obedient little dove, hmm?” he asked, to which you nodded once again, a bit more frantically this time as you awaited his cue. He used the hand on your shoulder to abruptly push you down with a small yelp so you were seated on the black leather couch behind you, the colder leather contrasting the burning lust in your entire body as you looked up at him. “Get to work slut.” Your eyes widened at the name. Maybe it was supposed to be an insult or he just liked calling you that but you couldn’t help the gargantuan wave of slick that coated your panties at the moment.

You looked down, a bit above eye level with his crotch as you reached up to palm him through his faded blue jeans. His scent was tantalizing, musky, and you couldn't get enough as you stared up at him through your eyelashes, your lips slightly parted as you gazed in awe. He gave you a warning glance, as if scolding you for teasing him for this long and you unzipped his pants. He held out his hand, as if to stop you before reaching behind his pants and pulling his gun from the back of his jeans. Your eyes widened, gaze now trained on the firearm in his hand, a horrified expression on your face as you ceased all actions. Which he noticed, peering down at you, a horrifying smile etched on his godlike features as he opened his mouth to speak.

“Relax darling, I won’t kill you,” he purred, reaching down and weaving the fingers of his free hand into the roots of your hair, grabbing and pulling back roughly so you have no other choice but to meet his dark eyes. “We’re only just getting started.” he lowered the gun, pressing the muzzle into the underside of your jaw, the cold metal like ice against your scalding skin. However, you felt no need to cry, felt no need to fear for your life even as this gun was pressed to your neck, aimed to kill, because you knew he wouldn’t do it. Through the dark facade and ominous gaze in his eyes there was something else that made you trust his inability to kill you. You realized you were enjoying the thrill, the excitement of putting your life in his hands. So, you did what any crazy bitch would do in this situation, you breathed out deeply, relaxing your shoulders and slouching yourself down to push your neck further onto the tip of the gun with a mischievous smile. Jungkook stared down at you in awe, running his tongue on the inside of his cheek and taking his gun off of your neck before tossing it over to the end of the couch behind you.

Resuming your actions with a shaky breath, you tugged his pants down until they fell to his ankles and placed your hands on the sides of his underwear clad hips. You might’ve been inexperienced in his style of fucking but you sure knew how to give a good blowjob, so you got to work, placing open mouthed kisses to his clothed appendage. You looked up at him once more seeing the lust clouded haze that filled his deep brown eyes. After a bit of teasing, you hooked your fingers in the waistband of his underwear, pulling it down in a seductively slow manner as you allowed his needy cock to spring free, and you stared up at it with a gasp.

It was huge.

You didn’t really know what qualifies as huge because the only dick you’ve ever had was around 6 inches on a good day but this alluring appendage swinging before your face had to be at least 9 inches long and you wondered how the fuck you were going to fit it all in your mouth let alone your pussy, which was already aching for it. Your mouth involuntarily opened wider in anticipation of his delicious dick inside and you grabbed the base, with two hands, drawing a hiss from the man that stood over you as he kicked off his shoes and the rest of the clothing that pooled around his feet. You licked teasingly up the sides of his dick, stopping at the tip to swirl your tongue around it, and catching some salty precum when you did. You glanced up at him and he looked absolutely furious in the best sort of way. Frustrated to the max as you teased him mercilessly, only spending meere fleeting moments at the spots which needed the most attention.

Then he snapped, taking you by surprise and using his hand that was still tangled in your hair to hold you still while he shoved his cock in your mouth. You tried to gasp but it merely came out as a small strangled whimper that was cut off as his length reached that back of your throat. You moved your hands to the sides of his hips once again, bracing yourself as he slowly pulled his member out of your mouth, most likely winding up for another thrust. He propelled his hips forward once again, stuffing not nearly all of his cock into your mouth, as his tip grazed the back of your throat. The feeling of him completely filling your mouth had you livid, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you moaned, the vibrations reverberating onto his appendage which drew a salacious moan from his plush parted pink lips.

“Fuck, your mouth feels like heaven.” he moaned out, then he started to fuck your face, tears pooling in your eyes while his dick basically hit the back of your throat with every harsh stroke of his hips as he gripped on your hair tighter. After one particularly hard thrust, he held his length down your throat as tears rolled down your cheeks and you gagged around him. He took his cock out of your mouth, to which you gasped, swallowing the spit that pooled in your mouth with an aroused groan.

“Tastes so good.” you mumbled, not possibly being able to get enough as he shoved his cock back into your mouth and fucked your throat relentlessly. The tension building in you was too much to bear and your need to cum only heightened as his actions resumed. You arched your back slightly, pushing your clothed clit into the black leather cushions of the couch as you gyrated into it slowly, praying he wouldn’t notice and would be too invested in fucking your throat to realize.

You were wrong. He noticed immediately.

He halted all movements, taking his cock from your throat and grabbing your neck harshly, to which you gasped, whimpering as he pulled you up to stand in front of him, cock slapping the front of your body as you stared at his face in anticipation of his actions. You could imagine what you looked like right now swollen glossy lips, and tear stains running down your face because you didn’t bother to wear your waterproof mascara. You never needed it any other time so you figured why would you need it now. Oh how wrong you were.

“Dirty little dove, trying to get off on the couch because you want me that bad?” he rasped, nearing closer to your face with each word and you nodded frantically, basically begging him to do something, anything. “Words” he barked, drawing a cry from your lips as you thought of what to say.

“I want your cock, please sir.” you begged, before he groaned hungrily and captured your lips in a ravenous kiss, taking you by surprise. No one had ever kissed you after they’d fucked your throat before so why would he do it. You didn’t dwell on that thought for too long before melting into his touch and wrapping your arms around his neck. Jungkook took his free hand, trailing it around your body to unclasp the back of your bra, your eyes going wide at the skillful ease of his fingers. He snatched the white lace clothing off of your frame, tossing it to the other side of the room and reaching back up to cup one of your soft breasts in his hand, flicking the nipple with his index finger and making you sigh satisfactorily into his mouth. He leaned forward, taking you with him as he lowered both of you back onto the couch, settling himself between your newly opened legs and never breaking the kiss. He unlatched his hand from your neck, trailing it down your body as the other hand continued to knead your breast skillfully. His burning touch slowly ventured further and further down your abdomen until he reached the band of your panties and abruptly tore the thin while lace from your body to your dismay and discarding it on the floor beside him. You whined sadly, as those had been your favorite pair of underwear but barely had any sort of time to grieve as you felt two rough fingers dip into the wetness of your slit, trailing them up and stopping right over the spot you needed him to be at, pulling a moan from your still swollen lips.

He began kissing a trail down your body, stopping for a mere moment to suck on the pert bud of your free breast before resuming his path of destruction. He moved his hands to settle on the inner sides of your thighs, spreading them apart and sighing as he got a glimpse of the treasure between them. Your eyes widened upon realizing his destination as you scooched away, holding a handful of his tousled black hair in an attempt to grab his attention.

“I-…” you paused, chewing on your bottom lip and thinking of how to word your statement. “i’ve never asked anyone to do that for me before, so y- you don’t have to do it.” you stuttered wearily as the nerves set in. No one’s face had ever been remotely close to your womanhood and the thought of it sent a chill down your spine as you released his hair from your grasp. You wondered what it would even be like. He glanced up at you, eyes dilated as he chuckled, a dark chuckle that made you shiver as he tightened his grip on your thighs, yanking you closer to his face and taking a deep drag of your scent once you were close enough.

“Oh baby I want to” he basically moaned out, licking his lips and glancing down at your glistening slit, the corners of his lips turning up in a hungry smile. You raised an eyebrow, asking yourself ‘why the fuck would he want to do that?’, and ‘isn’t this for my pleasure?’, but all your concerns were answered once he spoke again. “I can’t wait to make you writhe on my tongue little dove” he muttered, causing your cheeks to burn with the intensity of a thousand suns as he talked into your soaking entrance. “... make you beg and cry without even using my cock.” he continued, releasing your left thigh from his grip as he placed a hand on your pubic mound, lowering his thumb and slowly beginning to circle your clit eliciting a loud wail from you. “You think, if I had the power to turn you into a messy little whore all for me just by using my mouth, I wouldn’t use it at any chance I could?” He asked and you whined, nodding as your hips stuttered up in desperate need of more friction. “It’s all about power baby, and I have it all here” he groaned, watching you clench pathetic around nothing.

Then, he finally gave you what you wanted. His hand resumed its grip on your thigh, forcing it away from the other as his thumb was swiftly replaced by his warm tongue licking up and down your wet sex. You moaned, placing your shaky hands on the mounds of your chest, toying with your nipples just to add to the pleasurable sensations he was creating with his tongue. This feeling was unlike any ecstasy you had ever felt and you never wanted it to stop. His tongue slipped deftly into your soaked entrance twisting and turning skillfully as you keened loudly. His warm wet appendage swirling around your wet cavern was the best feeling in the entire world and you knew if he continued ravaging you at this pace, you’d cum in no time. But, you needed this release. You needed to let go of all this pent up sexual frustration you didn’t even know you harbored. You needed to experience your first orgasm in months, if not years, that wasn’t self inflicted and you hoped and prayed with all your heart that it would come soon.

He switched his focus,, moving his tongue up to play with your aching clit and slipping two fingers into your formerly empty hole with a deep groan that reverberated through your core like a powerful vibrator which only intensified your moans and cries of pleasure. You looked down on yourself to see the delicious sight of him devouring your cunt ruthlessly, the sight alone almost tipping you over the edge as you brought your hands up, covering your eyes while you neared completion.

“Jungkook you’re gonna make me cum.” you called out, an exasperated cry leaving your lips when your impending orgasm was painfully ripped away from you as all his motion stopped. You uncovered your eyes, about to stare down when your body jolted, a harsh sting being felt directly on your clit, sending a wave of warmth barreling through your entire body. Then you understood, he slapped you, and you peered down at him, your eyes glassy due to the orgasm that was ripped from your grasp.

“Who? said you can cum.” he deadpanned menacingly, staring up at you through hooded eyes as you leaned your head back tiredly, realizing the error in your words and prepared to beg, just like he said you would.

“Sir” you cried, holding your arms limply over your head as you continued to plead. “Sir please, please make me cum.” you begged mercilessly, a tear of relief sliding down your cheek as he resumed his assault on your core, attacking at a steady pace and retrieving the all too familiar knot that formed in the pit of your stomach. You reached up, grabbing the edge of the couch with an iron grip, your knuckles turning white as your hips began circling on his face, your clit rubbing against his tongue with every movement and venturing you closer to your sweet release.”Please don’t stop sir, oh my god” you whined loudly, fucking his face relentlessly as you chased your high, nearing it more and more with each thrust of your hips until he finally pushed you off the brink of ecstasy, a scream leaving your lips as Jungkook continued his unrelenting attack on your pained pussy.

You rode out your high, writhing and panting before him, his pace never faltering, his fingers never slowing, his tongue never relenting and it soon became too much. The euphoric delirium quickly turned into madness as you barreled down the path into overstimulation. You wailed pathetically, thrashing under his hold as the pleasurable pain consumed your body and you could barely form a coherent sentence but you persevered, scraping all the coherent thoughts you could muster and turning them into tangible words that sat on the tip of your tongue, ready to be spoken. “Sir please, it's too much!” you cried to which Jungkook finally let up, slowing his pace to a halt and sitting back.

“Oh my god that was so fucking hot” he growled before sucking on his glossy fingers and cleaning around his mouth with his skilled tongue as he gazed amusedly upon your exhausted body. But he was nowhere near done with you. This fact made apparent when he stood and wrapped an arm around your hip, lifting your limp body and turning you over with ease, positioning you so your face was pressed into the now warm couch cushion and your ass was raised high into the air before him. His eyes rolled at the view of your swollen cunt bent over for him and he gave it a light smack, eliciting a pained, but tired yelp from you as he chuckled muttering “you’re going to drive me crazy little dove.” under his breath.

He crouched down, coming face to lips with your abused cunt as he wrapped his arms around your bent bottom, lacing his fingers together as they rested at the arch of your back and dragging his nose up the tortured path of your slit, drawing whines and cries of overstimulation from your wiggling frame as you tried to get away from the punishing menace that was his face. “No, please. I can't take anymore, it's too much.” You whimpered, your voice muffled as you leaned your face into the couch tiredly to which he obliged, reluctantly, as he stood, grabbing his neglected dick in hand and pointing it toward your pink entrance.

“I can’t wait to stretch your pretty little pussy ____.” he purred and you moaned at the sound of your name slipping off of his tongue like the creamiest butter. He dragged his tip along your swollen clit, abusing it again for what seemed like the millionth time that day as he covered his girth in your slick, a guttural groan emitting from the back of his throat. Then, abruptly, he sunk into your slippery cavern, barely all the way in but you’d never felt so full in your entire life as he pushed forward slowly, filling you up and providing you with the most delicious stretch you’d ever felt. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you whined, a desperate whine that you could barely register was your own voice as he pushed his length completely inside of you, his head falling back and your name, rolling off of his tongue once again.

After barely giving you time to adjust to his alarming size, he reeled his hips back before slamming into you again, and again, and again, over and over again until he was fucking you at an unrelenting speed you barely knew was possible to achieve. Suffering from the overwhelming pleasure he forced you to endure, you shut your eyes tight, crying out in strangled indulgence as you grasped onto the fluffy throw blanket strewn lazily over the couch in front of you. You relished in the sting of his girth, staring ahead blankly with glassy eyes as he rammed into you with a punishing speed and black mascara filled tears streamed down your cheeks.

You knew you were about to cum soon, again, only due to the all too familiar feeling accumulating in the pit of your belly. Jungkook reached down, placing a hand on your shoulder blade and pressing your chest further into the couch while he drilled into you, moaning and cursing at the feeling of you flexing deliciously around his cock. He felt you were close, so he moved his hand, snaking it around your waist and trailing his other hand to assume its position around your neck, hoisting you up so your back was arched against his abdomen and you had no choice but to stare up at him as he talked down on you, never slowing the snapping of his hips for a wavering moment.

“You’ve never been fucked this good have you?” he teased through clenched teeth as he leaned down, sucking and marking all over the expanse of your neck with grunts and growls of pleasure. You were way too fucked out to even think about the words to form a coherent sentence, barely being able to form whimpered versions of ‘mhm’ after he questioned you but he was having none of that. He unraveled his hand from your waist, tightening his grip on your throat and landing a hard slap to your left asscheek, drawing a shrill shriek from the depths of your throat as he warned in your ear. “Words little dove” he slapped you again, “how many times do I have to fucking warn you.” he concluded, landing another harsh smack to your abused flesh as you whimpered.

“You’re the best I’ve ever had, I’m such a slut for you sir.” You sobbed out, “please let me cum, please fuck” you whined, drawing out your words and you reached back, tangling both hands in his unruly mop of hair as he split you open, moaning directly in your ear which in itself, was a thing that could make you cum on the spot.

“Cum then.” He said obviously, as if it was the most simple response, only it was this simple command that shoved you off the precipice of ecstasy for a second time. The feeling that bloomed deep in your stomach soon blossomed into a full blown orgasm that racked through your body quickly, leaving nothing but white hot pleasure in its wake as your legs trembled viciously, with one last loud cry of Jungkook’s name. But, he still did not falter, his pace quickening as he neared his own climax, the speed both too much and not nearly enough at the same time. You reached back, attempting to push him and escape the all consuming pleasure torturing your body like a blazing fire but your hands were caught quickly by Jungkook’s hands which crossed them tightly and held them behind your back, resuming his attack.

You shook your head, letting it hang as your tears fell freely onto the couch before you, his moans and groans of ecstasy increasing in volume and frequency as he neared his own climax, his hips faltering in their pace for the first time in a while as he worked to his own release. In what seemed like an instant, he released the most beautiful, salacious, strangled moan you had ever heard, pulling himself out of your soaked cunt, and painting the surface of your ass with his white hot ropes of cum. He finally let you go after a moment, watching as you fell limply to the couch, laying face down, panting exhaustively, your arms still crossed limply behind your back as he smirked down at your fucked out frame. He left you alone for just a bit, coming back but a few moments later before you felt the sore skin of your asscheeks being wiped off with what felt like a warm hand towel. You were relieved he had the respect to clean his mess, it made you respect him just a little bit more as a person but you were way too tired to dwell on the subject any longer.

“You did so good for me little dove” he cooed, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it as he placed a sweet chaste kiss on your lower back, caressing his hand up the side of your body. A simple touch that lacked any sort of sexual aspects, it felt comforting and you sighed, leaning further into the soft couch as you heard him begin to put his clothing on. You felt a pang of distress, seeing as you were more of a fuck and cuddle kind of girl, but you really hadn’t expected him to stay so why’d you feel the need to ask him to. Pushing the feeling deep inside your gut, you sighed deeply as he walked in front of you to bend forward and grab his gun that laid discarded on the opposite side of your couch, also grabbing the throw blanket beside it and tossing it over your naked frame before thinking about something. “So,” he started, tucking his gun in the back of his pants and humming, “I’m thinking that was worth about, hmm 50k” he started. You vaguely understood what he was saying and knew you’d flip out once you were conscious enough to truly comprehend his words. “I’ll keep in touch.” He said, pulling his shirt down and smiling deviously at you as you uttered a hoarse ‘huh?’ To which he answered simply, “if I wanna come collect some more money” and he spun on his heels, opening your door and sauntering out of the threshold.

When he got into the hallway, Jungkook burst into a wide smile, satisfied with the encounter he made today. He entered this agreement fully prepared to either fuck you once and take the money you’d earned back or just fuck you and kill you, but once he’d had a taste, he was insatiable. You were flawless, your compliance was impeccable. The way you obeyed him, begged for him, the way you tasted, the way you felt, the way you looked. There was no way he could ever get enough and is probably the reason he kept overstimulating you like a frat boy with a bruised ego. There was no way he was gonna just let go of an absolute gem like you, so he made his excuse, a plan. Everytime you fuck him, you pay back a portion of the money. He was so tempted to tell you this session was only worth $100 just as an excuse to come back over and over and over until he had his fill, but he kept his composure, giving you hope that you’d ever be free of his grasp. Jungkook for once was extremely ecstatic, elated, excited to ruin you even more than he already had and he was dead set on making you want him just as much as he craved you no matter what it took. Though he was pretty sure you already did.

#bts #bts smut #bts fic #jeon jungguk #jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #oneshot #mafia!bts #mafia!jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #bts angst #mafia au #GUNPLAYHAHAHA #IM SUPER EFFED UP #this took sooooo long

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jeweled-blue-eyes · 3 years

Note

In relation to one of your previously answered asks, it makes me question if lily and claude genuinely love athy or is it just because of diana. And something tells me that claude is the most underdeveloped character in the manhwa in comparison to others because of this claude apologism. Like claude apologists act like parents of spoilt brats. Like nooo don't make my baby experience the things that might make an impact on him (and help him grow as a human being), he might get hurrrt, nooo don't confront him with his wrong deeds my baby too fragile. As if he's the only character who had a horrible childhood and is having a hard life/dealing with heartbreaks. Athy, Lucas, Jennette's lives were totally not harder than his, given their optimism and how they tackle all the hard incidents like they don't have to go through the same trauma as him.

I see your point, but Claude is making baby steps towards being a better person father, well.... until he reverted back to his old self and almost killed Jennette. But this is realistic too. For some people progression isn't a straight line and they go three steps forward and two back.

He’ll never be normal though.

Right now for Claude there are only him and Athy above all else. And then Felix. Because of Diana maybe Lily (though she’s in the servant/tool category). And because of Athy Jennette. Though I doubt he views the latter as even human. Everyone else has to do something so that he can deem them worthy (i.e. Lucas), otherwise their value is zero and he has no qualms to get rid of them if they irritate him in any way. I can’t see him letting go of this worldview entirely. Being stuck in the past (Ana & Diana), not wanting to confront his mistakes (like how he danced around an apology and promised Athy gifts or a punishment for those who had wronged her) and a reluctance to change IS part of Claude’s character. I don’t know how much influence Claude apologists had in his character development, but it’s understandable why his character development moved at snail pace. I’d be genuinely surprised if Lucas and Claude started to treat Jennette as anything but a pet that Athy had taken a liking to.

Hmm, there is a chance this might change tho once Claude and Ana become bros again. But this would mean that Jennette’s value only increased because it’s tied to her relationship with two people close to Claude instead of one. Even in the third last chapter he only viewed Jennette kind of as an extension of Ana and used her to get under his skin. So if his feelings towards Ana changed to be positive his feelings towards Jennette would also be a bit more positive?

Actually, Lily and Felix might be more undeveloped than Claude. They are still stuck at where they started: the maid and the knight. Their only purpose in life is being loyal to their masters and this hasn't changed at all. Yeah, Felix did do some things behind Claude's back during the amnesia arc but in the end it was all still for Claude's sake. Besides dedicating every waking second of their life to their master's well-being they don't seem to have any friends, hobbies or particular interests. (Their lack of character development might be blamed on their limited screentime though. And to be fair they are side charas.)

May I ask, how would your ideal character development for Claude look like?

#anon #answered asks #confessions #this season Claude's character progressed quickly though #claude discourse

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berrymeter · 3 years

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idk anything about the grace period for deltarune u can just keep this ask in the attic until that’s over.. anyway.. i really liked chap 2 i played it in one sitting 😭 the rpg combat is enjoyable enough and just the right amount more complex than the undertale combat is, although not very difficult. very touching power of friendship moments minus that fucking bird man. some of the dialogue felt quite fandom tropey and surface-level, and queen’s lines (love her tho) were hit or miss for me. i think the biggest frustration i have with it is all the useless random encounter characters clogging up your world 😞😞 there’s only so many wacky one-liners toby can give them and i am not invested enough to care! also some of those designs are uglie!! there are better ways to make a world feel real and lived in. same thing happened with undertale.

BUT it was a great time! i liked the juxtaposition between the ultimately harmless antics and charming banter with the gang and queen, and the more sinister plot going on in the background. most obviously in the ending. toriel and susie making a pie while kris RIPS OUT THEIR SOUL….spoiler warning.. did u see the theory that the soul aka red heart is you the player operating kris the vessel? i’m definitely not a theorist but i like seeing all the loose plot ends i’m having a good time. i love noelleeeeee 💞💞💞💞and i liked susie a lot more this chapter. when ralsei taught her a healing spell 😖😖 i still don’t really care about ralsei though 😓

special shoutout to the spinning teacups ☕️☕️☕️ and special NOT-shoutout to the mice games with the rotating blocks i never understood how to do that.

it was a very feel-good game. it made me feel good. standards for video game passed. what did u think tho!! i mean i assume u liked it but for the same reasons? different ones? feel free to respond with an excruciatingly long essay of ur own <3 we are back to the tt anon blocks of text i restrained myself for a bit but we are back -tt

hiii tt anon <3 back at it again with the asks that i am looking forward to answering. if i post this a little before the 48 hours i will be forgiven bc i will use the deltarune spoilers tag and also the long post tag LMAOO anyway anyway oh btw never refrain urself from sending blocks of text if my followers are mad even though i tag them long post that's ON THEM. everything u say is worth listening to & same for everything i say so that's my final stance on this 😌

i also played it in one sitting it was so GOOD. i don't care that it was 2 am here when it was released i wasss ecstatic and the game was so fucking GOOD tonby the fox delivered!! it was so so worth the wait! the music was so much better than in chapter 1 imo, like... my castle town? the cyber fields theme? the queen's fight? spamton g spamton??? rouxls' "fight"?? BANGERS. i only see bangers. the new gameplay mechanics were also very fun!! i for one kinda struggled with the mice puzzles but not nearly as much as that one section with the traffic jams where you have to go down and back up or whatever. what the hell was that? i'm surprised i actually got past it. i loved the parts in cyber field though where you had to move on beat with the music that was sooo fun!! more of that! i prefer the fighting system in undertale ngl but it's mostly bc the undertale bosses are... just so good. the one boss who rivalises for now to me is queen, although rouxls is also very fun.

as for the story itself... i liked it :) susie & noelle are fucking ADORABLE. i think they deserve to be happy forever like not even together just individually as characters they're the fucking best. susie's grown so much that's my girl... wough... ralsei i do like but... i don't trust him :D i don't think he's evil but he knows too much and tells us too little until he can't keep it for himself and i don't like that. like bro you're gonna get us in trouble stop. but ALSO some ppl speculate that himself is being misled and that the fountains wouldn't bring the roaring, which is an interesting theory. (also i miss lancer being more relevant)

uhh kris is... well... kris... :)... yeah i did hear about that theory i'm in a discord server where ppl have been going on and on about theories since the game dropped LMAOO we're all insane. um. my personal theory is that there's another knight, or that kris is at least also influenced by an "evil force" or whatever, and we're the good force influencing them bc otherwise they're just a normal albeit mischievous kid. and the stretch part is that uhhh there's two knight pieces on a chessboard, ik this isn't about chess at all but king of spades does tell you at the end of chapter 2 that you'll meet a more powerful foe = the queen, coincidentally in chess the queen is stronger than the king. hmmmmmmmmmmm. lmao i don't think my parallel here is right but it's fun to think about anyway

did you see the superboss? i didn't fight him myself but he's so fun. also @ everyone who said he's gonna be a tumblr sexyman i hate that you're right shut that shit down HJKSNFKJSDHG. also did you see the secret fucked up pipis route? it's horrible. genuinely... i watched a streamer play it and 😳 uh. well i didn't even hate berdly before anyway yeah he's annoying but like he's a snot-beaked kid i'm not gonna wish him... whatever happens in this route. legit scarring. and poor noelle... pffbbgtbg. hate this so much. but i think it was done so bad and horrible on purpose, with how specific your gameplay has to be for you to be able to complete it tonby really was like "you wanna be an asshole? undertale wasn't enough? fine. work for it. and also suffer" nskjshf. i'm never doing it <3

lastly FUCKING QUEEN!!!!!!! QUEEN MY LOVE!!!!! BEST CHARACTER. i love her sosososo much it's unreal. and i didn't mind any character designs much, i'm not too complicated in that regard shfkjsdfh i love the tasques and tasque manager though :) also the... idk their names... the butler dudes? they're so cute. swatch's design is neat

so those are my thoughts <3 can't wait to hear more from u!!!

#asks #tt anon #long post #deltarune spoilers

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1358456 · 4 years

Text

Review Response, August 16 - 29, 2020

I missed doing this last week because... stuff happened.

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SA-Intermission 1

1) xD the WCHB tho. Now that I think about it, he really is an idiot.

Yes. Yes he is. I don’t know if he’s supposed to relate with the kids or something because he doesn’t have a brain, but... it’s bad. For whatever reason, in most kids’ shows or cartoons, the main character is almost always the dumb one.

... Then again, I don’t know of many kids’ shows. So maybe I just happened to have stumbled upon the only shows where the main character doesn’t have a brain.

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Destiny #030

1) Sorry I’ve been MIA recently. Just had to sort through some things and now I’m here! Here to experience this incredibly sad chapter wowzers. I had totally expected Platinum to win. I guess it was the part of me that was used to the main character winning these things. Oh boy was I mistaken. And although I feel sad about it, I can’t help but want to slap her for her mercy. She *knew* that the things Diamond was doing was out of his control. No matter how you look at it, it was a bit selfish of her once you realize that Diamond never had a chance of overcoming Zygarde’s influence. It’s admirable that she didn’t want to hurt him, but she was only hurting him more by not knocking him unconscious. Had she done that then the two would have survived and had a *much* happier ending (and not waste that beautiful shield oh my). But hey, who knows, maybe they did somehow survive. Even though it truly seems like they drowned... I mean how would you even survive that. Maybe the Pokémon came in and helped. That’s plausible I suppose. Anyways, even if the whole double death wasn’t tragic enough, we have this whole traumatic experience for Y! This poor girl can’t get enough can she? The whole thing with X was heartbreaking but this... is almost as bad too. I can’t even imagine trying to run with only bones.. grating against each other. Oof what an image. And running away from people who look just like her. I wonder what the others will think when they see her. If they even do. It doesn’t look like she’ll last long. I wonder what causes the deterioration. If it’s all by Yveltal’s will then why do it to her? It’s obvious Yveltal wants her for something. Otherwise she would have disintegrated along with the others (nice timing btw). In fact why DID Yveltal resurrect her? I can guess as to why they would have summoned others, like maybe it was for energy to fight Kyogre. But what purpose could Y *possibly* serve? Well I guess I’ll find out. Along with the reason of why Yveltal wanted to fight Kyogre. How does that enter the plan of Zygarde? Will Xerneas fight Groudon too?

No worries. We all have stuff happening.

Well, Platinum was winning by a lot but she just couldn’t bring herself to attack a friend. Hehe. I like how so many people kind of... miss what I intended for this scene. ... And others, now that I think about it. Ever since SA, whenever I make a scene where a Dex Holder seemingly dies, the reaction changed from “oh how is he/she going to survive this?!” to “welp, he/she is very dead, damn it” ... I mean, I understand, but... have some faith. Especially in Platinum, the Dex Holder with the strongest plot armor in my stories! And not only just the OP plot armor, but even has recharging shields! And I certainly would not have given her the shield system in Destiny, if she was going to die in the very first time she got to use it. So... fear not. She’s not dead. In Destiny, a Dex Holder death is VERY clear, and there is always a confirmation of sorts.

Oh, Y. Such a horrible fate despite being my second favorite Dex Holder. ... Maybe it’s because she’s my second favorite. Heh. Yveltal isn’t in control of her, by the way. She’s just in its influence, and is drawn towards it, but her mind is still intact so she can resist to a degree. Like... she isn’t mindlessly wandering towards it like the other corpses. Yveltal is just going around resurrecting dead bodies for sustenance. It’s not like it resurrected Y in particular. So Y doesn’t have a particular purpose for Yveltal. She’ll do her own thing for now, while her mind is still intact. And once that’s gone, she’ll just be like any other walking skeleton.

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Legacy #011

1) Ah shit here we go

... I have no idea where I left off in Legacy. So I don’t know what this “here we go” is referring to. Hehe.

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SC #019

1) Oh my god, I've been looking forward to this :D *Demonic screeching* Imma try to post more reviews, your writing is wayyy too good! Also the return of santa

Hehe. I hope you liked it. Santa has returned for some Essence of Pliers beatdown!

2) Lol, welcome back, brutal Red. Hopefully Sapphire doesn't end up influenced by that, though... I like the idea of Sapph as a detective. She's strong enough to handle combat and her research skills might be handy in processing and acting logically on information. I wonder if she might end up picking up a thing or two about tech from Blue - that certainly seems like it'd be useful on the job. All in all, these "Day at Work" chapters have been really awesome. Great chapter and looking forward to the next one! Oh, and hope you're feeling better now

The reason why there wasn’t a big brawl in this chapter was because... Sapphire isn’t the type to do that. I mean, she might fight back, but she’s not going to relish in doing such. She’s not going to be like “step aside or bleed, it’s your choice!”

Sapphire also has very good intuition and instincts, which would be greatly helpful. If Sapphire learned to be more discreet and stealthy from Blue, and was able to use some of her toys, this chapter would’ve just become the mythical Covert Ops series that I tried to make but discontinued with it like 5 times now. That series would feature the NEXT step in the plot of this chapter, where the one doing the stealth infiltrates the headquarters to find vital information regarding the bad guys’ scheme and getting out while leaving no footprints.

Well, I’m glad you liked the Day at Work chapters! They’re by far the least received chapters in SC!

And... I really appreciate it, but... my condition... well... ... It’s not getting better.

#qna

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marvel-and-dc-geek · 4 years

Text

Entschuldigung, großer Bruder

A meeting with Switzerland wasn’t anything unusual.After all, they had to discuss important topics.He had gone several times to the nation’s place, and there had never been an issue.The meeting went better than any held in world conferences, which he was thankful for.Again, nothing unusual.

As he was getting ready to leave, a gentle voice caught his attention:

“Mister Germany, would you like to join me and my bruder for tea ?” Liechtenstein spoke.The younger nation was friendlier than her older brother, and certainly more outgoing.

“If your older bruder doesn’t mind, I wouldn’t like to be a bother “ it was polite to get the approval of the hedgehog nation first, specially because he had an amazing aim with his riffle.

With a nod, Switzerland showed the approval for his sister’s idea.It was pretty strange of him to invite someone else.

Joining them to drink tea and accompany them with the home made sandwiches that Liechtenstein had made was not how he expected to spend the evening, but it was something he really ended up enjoying.He saw an unusual face of his neighbor, one that was far more gentle and warm than what he was used too.

On all those years he had expend going to his house, it was the first time that he had no issue giving him something to drink.He also allowed his sister to use a pretty nice tea set, something that was even more unexpected.He really cared a lot for his little sister, maybe more than he did about himself or money, and Germany couldn’t avoid but to feel some kind of nostalgia.

But as much as he hated to admit it, that also made him feel an uneasy feeling: sadness.He knew why, but he had rather not let it show while he had company.After finishing the tea and saying goodbye to the young nation, her brother accompanied him to the entrance.

“I’d like to thank you for joining us today” the hedgehog nation said sincerely.”She enjoys having others over.I admit I’m not particularly fond of it, but I like seeing her being happy.”

“It was a pleasure, Switzerland”Germany had to admit, getting to know that face of his was “Lietchestein is lucky to have you as her big brother”he added before heading back to his place.

It was a long drive until his home, even if both their houses weren’t as far away from each other.The sadness that he felt certainly made it feel like time was passing slower.

The reason behind it was pretty simple: Switzerland and his sister reminded him, in a certain way, of Prussia and himself.

His brother, the one who was responsible for his existence in the first place.He had taught Germany all he knew, all he needed to be a great nation, all that would be important for him when growing up.No one else had been as important as him.

Prussia was the only family that he had ever known.All of his other siblings either united to create him, or had disappeared long before he was born.So, as far as it concerned, he was the most important person in his life.

Even tho for humans he had been a child for a long time, for a country, he grew up rather fast.Still, in the years he was still a toddler, the person there for him was his big brother.His brother was strict, specially when it came to neatness, but he never was cruel or impatient with him.He taught him how to correctly organize his clothes and clean everything, but made sure to also teach him the important of always being on time.After all, nothing was as unforgivable as lateness.

Military tactics and weapon using had been installed to him almost as soon as he started to have a conscience.Of course, the person in charge of that was his big bruder.He was good, even as a child, but it was really his brother’s influence that made him excellent.They trained together for several years, as Prussia was used to do when he was in charge of training foreign troops.Of course, he would often joke in ways that Germany found annoying, but deep down, he appreciated his brother’s effort in trying to make him not feel as bored.Plus, he was pretty much the only person to have ever joked during a training while Germany was present and live to tell, which was quite an achievement.

As for industry and mechanics, he would for sure had been screwed has his brother not teach him about it.After all, he was probably the best country when it came to it.He made sure Germany learned exactly how to make the best products possible, while using the only the best materials available.That helped him compete during the Industrial Revolution, which would’ve otherwise destroyed him.

And of course, the first time Germany drank beer, it was with his brother.Prussia couldn’t just let his little brother drink some shitty beer and get drunk, he had to be sure it was of good quality.The blonde didn’t remember much of that time, except that he downed the drink his big bruder gave him, and them everything went black.Somehow, he ended up using his own boot as a cup, perhaps after the bar had ran out of places to serve them.

That aside, Prussia was also protective of his little brother.Whenever Germany had been scared of something as little as a thunderstorm, he would let him sleep in his room.Oddly enough, the older one never teased him for to, and instead chose to teach him why he shouldn’t be afraid.

He had so many fond memories of his brother...hell, he was actually the closest thing he had to a father.Not many people had seen his brother’s kind and caring side, often thinking he was just an idiot.Well, maybe he was, but Prussia cared for him better than anyone else could’ve done it.

Germany didn’t notice that his cheeks were wet, but of course that wasn’t from crying .Because men don’t cry, right ?Men don’t cry when they remembered their brother, the one person who didn’t bat an eye to make sure they were always alright, that raised them as if they where his son.They specially didn’t cry when they had been the reason they weren’t alive anymore...

Because it had been his fault.Was there even a way to deny it ?His boss, that horrible boss that he would rather not name.Germany had caused the worst war ever imaginable, one that would change world’s history forever.Aside from all the death and pain it caused, it happened to create or dissolve countries.

And his brother had been one the countries to be dissolved.Prussia became East Germany after that, but after what he had gone through during the Cold War, he wasn’t in a good shape.Of course, his big brother wouldn’t let that show.He affectively referred to his brother was “West”, despite it being a reminder of the division they had gone through.He didn’t even mind driving a car in such bad condition, that it might as well just break down when you saw it.

Despite this, Germany had been very happy when they were able to reunite.Too happy to notice his brother was slowly becoming a human.Or maybe, just hoping it was just his imagination.

He always told him that he was fine.He never once blamed him for the condition he was in.He never blamed him for causing his dissolution.He never stopped loving his little brother, loving him too much to make him worry.

Prussia never told him anything.He never said anything about how that bite mark didn’t heal quickly.He never said anything about his legs slowly working less.He never said anything about the trouble he began to have to breath.But still, anyone could’ve noticed.

It was as if all the years he had lived,all the battle he had seen and all the bones he had broken were slowly getting to his body, all at the same time.Germany noticed something was wrong when his brother’s little bird started to chirp frantically, almost as if it was trying to scream.

He had rushed to his big bruder’s room, only to find him agonizing.His dogs also arrived there, as if they knew he was gonna die.Prussia’s smile never left his face, as he gently caressed his brother’s face.

“I’m so proud of you, Germany...”he could barely speak.The blonde had seen other sick countries, but this was different...his hands were cold, and the light in his eyes was barely there.Calling a doctor was useless, because there was nothing to be done.”Don’t forget the awesome me, alright ?Don’t forget how much I love you” and with that, he closed his red eyes, to never open them again. Germany wasn’t sure how many hours passed as he cried while hugging his brother, he only knew that it took several men to separate them

Why hadn’t he yelled at him?Germany was the reason his brother met such end, he deserved to be told that by him.He was the one who should have been dissolved, not Prussia.He hadn’t done anything wrong, except maybe creating him in the first place....yet he never even thought so.

He barely had anything on his house to remember his brother.Just his little bird, who’s happiness seemed to have died the same day his owner passed away.That cross, who his brother had proudly worn, ended up becoming a symbol that needed to be destroyed, and all because of him.

All those thoughts followed him as he drove to his house, which when he arrived, now felt even more empty.

“Sorry, big brother ” he mumbled to himself.After stepping out of his car, he simply broke down crying “Sorry”

#hetalia #my fanfic #my fanfiction #germany hetalia #aph germany #aph prussia #prussia hetalia #aph switzerland #aph liechtenstein #ludwig beilschmidt #gilbert beilschmidt #vash zwingli #basch zwingli #what was the human name for liechtenstein?

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serenagaywaterford · 4 years

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How opposed do you think serena is to labelling herself with ‘lesbian’? Would she ever use any alternatives?

I think, Serena… Hmm… would be adamantly opposed to any label for a very long time. Because she would be stuffed full of religious indoctrination and shame being fed by heaps of internalised homophobia and specifically lesbophobia. I can’t see her being very comfortable with any label for a long time even when she is in a relationship with another woman. She’d be the type to refer to June (or whomever) as her “partner”, and make sure it’s vague and safe. Never “girlfriend”, cos that’s too bold and upfront. Never admit that it’s actually two women. She’d hide behind language like “partner” or “significant other” for sure, probably even say “they” instead of “she” when in conversation with people, just to hide a little more.

That said, down the road? If I’m taking her out of canon, hmm. I think the journey to a label would be long but mostly direct. Firstly, I don’t know what any alternatives are to “lesbian”. It’s a pretty specific thing and literally none of the other words I can think of mean lesbian. (Unless they’re reclaimed slurs like dyke or lesbo, etc. or something really clunky like “homosexual woman” which lbr nobody really says.) Whether she would go through a phase of mislabelling herself because she is afraid of the word is another question though. Would she consider herself bisexual? Perhaps. It would be incredibly difficult to admit that an entire marriage was pointless and unfulfilling. Denial is powerful. Like how could a lesbian be married to a man for so long? Right? (I really don’t want to get into any debate about lesbian purity but it happens, and there are plenty of lesbians who have.) I think she could hang onto that for a while. I can see her clinging on for dear life to the bisexual label, for a host of reasons.

[And I know I may differ with some Serena/June fans, but I do not headcanon her as bisexual. I just don’t. June, yes, actually because I believe her romantic and sexual attraction to men is genuine and real. Serena? Not in a million years. That woman is as gay as a window and yes, I will die on this hill regardless of what canon tells me.]

She may even insist one of those stupid “It’s not all women, just one!” Like, I’m not homosexual, it’s just this specific person! LOL. Okay. Sure, Jan. Cos that’s a real thing. I see Serena being very much that sort of person in rabid denial.

Like I said though, I would suspect eventually she would recognise things and put every piece of her life into perspective, and give herself a little break. I also think internally she would be immediately questioning whether she is homosexual. Cos, yeah, that’s part of her whole ideology, this gender traitor gay-hating thing. She would think that about herself and try to mitigate it, and talk herself into some other excuse. Like “It’s not me, it’s just her. It’s a one-off. Or it’s a phase.” Something like that to make it seem less than it is.

But no, Serena wouldn’t call herself an alternative. Cos, a)I don’t know any so I can’t speak to that lol and she certainly wouldn’t call herself a slur, and b)it’s SERENA. She wouldn’t be sitting around on social media or going to gender studies courses in uni. She wouldn’t even know the language, slang, or whatever 60239 sexual identities and labels people have now. She would know the basics and have to pick from those. Gay, lesbian, bi, ~gender traitor~. That’s all she would know, PLUS the slurs because there is no way someone with that much hate, and surrounded by so much hate pre- and during Gilead wouldn’t be aware of them. Even just from church.

I think she may start with “gender traitor” because it’s what she’s familiar with, and it’s sort of …vague in a sense. Also, the shame. MAYBE eventually once she’s done the whole journey or whatever she may use “gay”, and I would suspect she would before using “lesbian” cos let’s be totally honest, it is the hardest for so many women to say. There is still so much stigma attached and women are still afraid to say it, cos also it is the most dangerous for women. To be a lesbian means to be unavailable to men entirely. They don’t like that. At all. They will do anything to change that. It starts with words and ends with rape. Even saying “gay” as a woman is somehow less threatening for some reason, but “lesbian” is a definitive statement. (Maybe it’s cos “gay” for women has been watered down and so many people just use it without understanding that it is HOMOSEXUAL. So men can hear gay, and be like “Meh, she’ll be with dudes too cos all these other ~gay girls~ do.” Yet a man says “gay” and he is equally as threatening and gross to straight men as a lesbian is, but for different reasons. Being exclusively homosexual makes straight people (but especially men) hate you. And when they hate you, it is a scary place to be. So, I can deffo see Serena being quite afraid. Like she is a pretty huge coward generally lol and this would be even worse. That’s what got her into so much of her own bullshit. So she would be terrified of the word lesbian.

TMI: I know I was. I adamantly refused to use the word for years cos it was gross and scary or whatever idiocy I had in my head. I was actually at a comedy club with my girlfriend and the comedian picked us out (it was all straight people) and said “Oh, we’ve got some lesbians here, right?” and I was so completely horrified and terrified that I blurted, as disgusted as I could, “No! I’m not!” And I’ll tell you my girlfriend wasn’t very happy for one thing, and the comedian just looked confused. Like, clearly I am. But I just loudly refused to be called that cos I was scared. Of so many things. So, I get it. I get the absolute refusal to accept that you are that word because it’s all sorts of things. Mostly associated with bad. But it’s not. And I don’t even have the really deeply ingrained homophobia as somebody like Serena does (I deffo had internalized homo/lesbophobia tho). So, if I struggled with it, I am certain someone like her would struggle a lot more. Especially when the stakes are even higher and more dangerous. Like, this is a woman that has supported a regime that hangs gay men in public and rapes/genitally mutilates lesbians and knows exceptionally well how easily a regime can target and eradicate gays and lesbians.

Now, would Serena EVER say it? I’m not sure. I think about that sometimes writing fic. How does Serena view herself? Would she ever get to a healthy enough place that she could call herself a lesbian? Or is she somewhat of a lost cause? (It also comes into play how much she’ll ever admit about the shit she’s done.)

Sometimes I doubt it. I sometimes think she would spend her whole life talking around the actual word and using euphemisms or long descriptions instead of saying the word. Because that is a lot A LOT of lesbophobia for her to unpack. More than a lot of people. (Not to mention she’s a very stubborn and proud person so part of that would be admitting she was wrong in the past and… well, lbr, Serena is NOT good at that either lol.) That said, there are some raging homophobes that come out and quite quickly embrace the most “extreme” label because it is such a relief. It’s freedom. It’s safety in a totally different way than a lie. Could she be like that? Almost as if she launches herself into another ~cause straight away? Hmm. Maybe. She does also have that streak in her.

So, long story short, anon. I dunno. I would suspect IF she ever does, it would be a long, long journey for her but it wouldn’t beat around the bush (unless that journey involves mislabelling herself in an attempt to soften the blow/part of self-discovery). I don’t see her using any “alternatives” tbh. Cos it’s Serena, a woman in her mid-late 30s who has spent her whole life either in church, in very right wing conservative circles, and/or in a literal religio-fascist society. Not a 20 year old on tumblr who has all this new lingo at their fingertips. She simply wouldn’t have the language. Or care. I’ll be honest, most people over 30 don’t give a shit about all this. You’re gay, you’re lesbian, or you’re bi. That’s it. Maybe at a push some of them use “queer” now. And frankly, Serena would never, ever use that word. Not with the huge stigma attached to that in church/right wing circles where it is literally a slur and nothing else. She wouldn’t be the type to “reclaim” anything. She’d hear that word and likely only think of the horrible, violent ways it was used in her upbringing and communities. It would probably evoke fear. I’d say possibly even trauma. So, I would definitely cross that one off the possible “alternative” list. (I’d also cross “homosexual” off that list too for the same reasons. That word is said with such hate, disgust, and derision in conservative and church communities. It sounds like poison when they say it. And Serena couldn’t get past that for a very long time, I’d guess.)

She’s simply not that sort of person to make a stand like that or face demons that frequently lol. She is not a very brave person, nor is she one that simply doesn’t care what people think of her. She appears to care very much and that would be a huge influence on her behaviour and thoughts. Unless it’s something she ADAMANTLY believes in. Like, she has to hit a limit before she snaps and doesn’t care what people think anymore. (We’ve only seen that Serena a few times in canon. Most of the time she’s a cheerleader for the status quo.) I do believe deep, deep down she doesn’t truly care… but fear/validation is a crazy drug. It would take a lot for her to get there.Wow, I said long story short and just went off on another tangent so okay. I’m done. Serena: no alternatives, uses “gay/lesbian” after a very, very long time–if at all. *shrug* I dunno. I can possibly be persuaded otherwise but this is basically my view...

#Anonymous

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ruwithmeguys · 5 years

Text

Just thinking things over (wrote this is about ten mins so sorry about how basic it is)

Let’s talk about Thea...

Now, if I were writing S7, I would have done this:

It all starts in S5. After being so thoroughly educated by Oliver in the morality of ‘tho shalt not kill’, Thea witnesses Oliver regress. ANd killing, And everything he preached against. Only he calls it PROGRESSION, because otherwise... how can he ever explain killing Dhark and Ra’s and all the others in any other way than referring to himself as a murderer?

Remember, he spent the season layering lies over the brutal truth: at the end of the day, he keeps returning to it: to violence and death and he makes mistakes, like the one he made with Felicity only he doesn’t know that it’s because there’s a piece of himself he’s terrified of sharing; most of all with the woman he loves.

And Thea - she doesn’t take to it well.

“After all your preaching, after telling me that I can’t give in to the blood lust when I was affected by the Lazarus waters, you go right ahead and do it for me. It’s like... you enjoy it or something. You destroyed your relationship with Felicity, you’re doing the same with your alter ego and now you’re pushing us all away - what the hell is wrong with you?”

This would happen somewhere between 5.09 and 5.19

She'd watch Oliver delude and destroy himself and be powerless to stop it and she’d think... what’s the point? What’s the point in fighting? It never gets them anywhere, he can lie and pretend but look at him: he’s miserable. He’s stopped sleeping. His eyes are black.

Only Oliver eventually does fight back after Prometheus tortures him, after Felicity saves his soul from self destruction. And while Thea’s so happy for him, she isn’t untouched by it all.

She’s disillusioned.

By herself, her brother, her parents, the world... no matter how much they fight, they don’t seem to get anywhere. They loose people or pieces of themselves. She STAYS in Star City this time, earning a place in the mayoral office. Keeping her eyes on Quentin and pretending she’s fine.

Sometime around 5.22, she’s approached by a man representing a corporation that specialises in endorsing the right person for mayor. The right calls for the city. The right way of living. A powerful financial backer and ally. She shut’s the door in his face... or she would have, only she’s watched her brother do everything alone and knows his choices suck. What if that happens again?

And... is it one rule for Oliver and another for her? Couldn’t she makes decisions without him?

The man throws her a bone: her parents were part of this group, pretentiously named the Ninth Circle... she take she card and pretends she’ll never consider it.

When Prometheus takes them to Lian Yu and the island blows, she doesn't end up in a coma: she IS a mess though. It takes months to heal and she’s frustratingly wheelchair bound, which allows her a great deal of empathy in how Felicity felt during S4. She tells Oliver this...

And she vents at him: how his choices hurt the woman he loves the most, how he pushed Thea away, how hypocritical he’d been and if only he hadn’t behaved the way they had, she’d have feeling in her left arm and she wouldn’t need surgery on her eye.

The rage is new. The truth of it is not.

They make up, but after Oliver's duties take their toll in S6 and he tries to be a good leader, mayor and family man, Thea takes her first steps into the Ninth Circle who make sure to carefully implant truths about her family and manipulative little pushes here and there.

Then Roy returns to her and they don’t leave. For the first time, she feels like it’s possible to have the happiness Oliver is so clearly having with Felicity and her anger and injustice starts to wane. She’s happy with Roy in those weeks... Until he’s killed by Diaz who aimed at her to hurt Oliver.

It’s the last straw.

It isn’t Diaz who gets’ Oliver taken out of the position of mayor.

It’s Thea.

With the Ninth Circle’s monetary backing and influence, she takes over. And she’s good. VERY. She makes changes in the city but they’re almost totalitarian and when Oliver confronts her, she explains.

He isn’t working.

He isn’t a deterrent.

He’s a virus.

He’s making things worse.

And she believes this pile of crap. The pile of crap is not without merit. But she’s being manipulative and he can see that, but he doesn’t understand who. Thea believes that the city needs to be controlled and that because he lost control, because he stepped away from the team, they all left him and now he’s vulnerable. Hes made everyone vulnerable.

Another person who blames him.

When he goes to jail, she’s stunned because that wasn’t her aim... when she sees that no one (excluding Felicity) is trying to fight for him, it solidifies her belief that the city is beyond saving. That it needs to be reformed. And she becomes obsessive with trying to figure out how and where it all went wrong...

Whilst Oliver is in jail, the circle reveal the truth about her parents and Emiko, the circle’s assassin. About the Gambit and how this really all started with the bombs.

She kills her half sister: it’s an accident, like when her father killed that man but they’d fought before hand.

She starts to hate herself. Oliver. Life. The city.

She keeps Emiko and their father’s additional affair a secret from Oliver, to keep him safe from it.

Before he’s released, she’s shown something; the circle reveal their real weapon: it’s a machine.

A time machine.

Throughout the first half of S7, Felicity has been bumping into a figure in black: it’s her future self.

In the future, Felicity Smoak has been trying to find a way to save her husband. In this version, Mia was never conceived. In the future, Felicity IS a villain, because she has to be. Oliver IS dead and Felicity spent years trying to find a way to reverse it and it isn’t like with Barry: it’s about balance. Without Oliver, everything starts to crumble. He’s the linchpin. They have to bring him back. She found a way. Only her tech was stolen and brought backwards in time: existing simultaneously in both time zones due to its dual nature.

So she infiltrates the circle to go back.

Thea starts to plan: she wants to go back to the day the bombs where shipped to the Gambit. She wants to change what happens that day. She wants to reverse everything.

But when they brought the machine back, their use of it was limited.

Cue several episodes of trying to make a present day, unknowing Felicity, get it to work properly.

Future Felicity tries to stop her by destroying her own creation, which she realises is part of the reason why Oliver is killed (because of Thea) and would, in effect, allow the horrible future.

She does.

But she’s killed for it,

Older Felicity dies in present day Oliver's arms. She tells him she’s sorry - that she became something he hates.

And he tells her-

“No matter who we become or how we change, you will always be the love of my life. Always and forever. Felicity... you’re my hero. You saved my life. You died saving my- I love you so much but this can’t happen. Not now, now ever. You can’t die. You can’t leave me here.”

And then he realises... he left her first. He died first and what he’s feeling for this version of her doesn’t compare to the years of loneliness she must have suffered.

Dying Felicity tells him about his sister and what he needs to do.

But her present self is in danger and he wants to go after her. She tells him not to but he just looks at her...

“If I lose Thea... I don’t what I’ll do. But if I lose you, i’m dead anyway. You think the future needs me? Well, there is no me without you.”

She sees her Oliver as she dies because time is relative and when observed, it creates it’s own space. Despite the changes in the present... she’s real. And her Oliver comes to take her.

Present Day Oliver rushes to the Ninth Circle’s hideout and saves his wife instead of going after Thea... and he tells Felicity that together or apart, they’re connected. He has to choose her and will continue to do so and that Thea would understand. To which Felicity replies, because how we feel is bigger than the universe.

But Thea’s been watching her brother and she’s been watching Felicity - seeing them both hurt again, betrayed by friends and having to watch the woman he loves die in her fifties - and she realises that she’s been wrong all along.

It was never about stopping the bombs. And it was never about the Ninth Circle.

It was about the Queen Family.

They need to die.

If it weren’t for them, Emiko’s mother wouldn’t have suffered. Felicity wouldn’t have suffered. Roy wouldn’t have died. Slade and Ra’s and Sara and everything- it’s because of Oliver. It’s because of her.

It’s because of their selfish parents.

It’s because of money and power and entitlement.

She uses the machine and she goes back in time. She tries to kill their parents, only Oliver goes back too.

They fight.

Eventually, bloodied, bruised and heartbroken, he gets her to realise; if she tries to change anything the future would alter... and he doesn't want it to.

Because he has Felicity.

The promise of her is worth everything he’s ever been through, including loosing everyone. Even if they went back and prevented Rebecca Merlyn’s death, thereby saving Tommy, it would destroy the rare love he’s been so lucky to find.

If she changes one thing, she changes everything.

“Even if we can save them all?”

“Even if.”

It’s teary and a climax to the years of pain and torment they’ve been through. Oliver would gladly go through it all over again because it meant meeting Felicity. He’d only change one thing.

“I regret not telling her how much I loved her sooner.”

But even changing that, might affect the future in worse ways.

But she’s not like him. Thea doesn’t feel the same.

She wants to die.

She feels like she killed Roy.

She wants her parents to have not made the choices they made.

But Oliver made an agreement with the Monitor: to bring balance, only the monitor wasn’t referring to Oliver. He was referring to Thea. She’s the negative influence. Thea has to die because if she doesn't, she’ll cause irreparable damage in the future. Damage that will take away the green arrow and overwatch.

OR... he could take her away to a place where she can be with Roy again. A place she can’t return from.

Oliver has to let her go forever. She’s alive but he’ll never see her again.

It’s a bittersweet end, but the Monitor gives him hope: he’s needed. His wife is needed. And she’s pregnant: the children they have together are already being anticipated by a universe that’s waiting for them to be born.

The season ends a few years onto the future; with Oliver having a picnic in a beautiful clearing in the middle of nowhere. His head is in Felicity’s lap.

His hand reaches up to touch her pregnant belly as she controls her company form the touchscreen in her grasp.

Their toddler is being chased about by Ben Turner and Diggle’s reminiscing with Oliver - sat on the grass with a beer - as Lyla walks towards them with hot food.

They celebrate a beautiful life.

But Oliver thinks about Thea... and then he looks up at his wife and the sadness fades.

They’ll be fine.

THAT’S MY TAKE.

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comeondowntosouthparkrpg-blog · 5 years

Text

Eric Cartman

out of character info

Name/Alias: Tots

Pronouns: she/her

Age: 19

Join Our Discord: lmao already in here tho

Timezone: EST

Activity: depends on my mood- but on a good day I can be about an 8

Triggers: n/a

Password: Jwimmy can fwast pass mwy awss uwu

Character that you’re applying for: Eric Cartman

Favourite ships for your character: Eric x getting kicked in the balls really fucking hard

in character info

Full name: Erin Theodore Cartman

Birthday: July 1st

Sexuality, gender, pronouns: bisexual, male, he/him

Age and grade: 17, senior

Appearance: Super BUFF, mega RIPPED, hella HAWT-

Puberty and a lack of hygiene hit Eric Cartman like a baseball bat to a toddler’s teeth. Eric’s skin is greasy and pimply, his brown eyes are beady and swallowed by fat, he constantly smells of fast food and BO, his clothing is usually grimey and stained by food, his hair, while a pleasing auburn shade, is short and greasy. Whatever facial structure he could have had is hidden under double chins and years of bad eating. It’s as round as the rest of him. He has no neck, it’s just a layer of fat flopped over his shoulders.

Eric is short, standing at 5ft 5 inches. Due to a lack of self control he’s morbidly obese. His knees hurt when he walks and anything more physical than a slow pace makes him pour sweat and pant like a dog.

When Eric is attempting to manipulate someone or is dressing up to pull a scheme, he pulls out all the stops with wearing nice clothes and as clean as humanly possible. Otherwise however, he does not give two shits. Afterall, why bother spending time showering when you can use that time to eat more KFC?

Eric’s wardrobe never changed, plain pants and tshirts are still his signature clothing style. In an attempt to make Eric more independant, Liane tried insisting Eric wash his own clothes. Eric instead refused to do so and chooses to continue wearing his dirty clothes until she can’t stand the sight or smell anymore and washes his clothes for him. It’s a recurring, endless cycle.

Despite all this, Eric continues to be under the delusion that he is a complete and utter chick magnet that makes all pussies in a 200 square foot radius wet. He’s convinced that there’s nothing wrong with his appearance and that he’s insanely good looking.

Personality: Eric could have been a good person. He had the potential inside him at one point before his anger and vileness took over.

Now, Eric is complete and utter, irredeemable flaming human garbage. He is racist, abusive, quick to anger and never thinks ahead unless it stands to benefit him. He constantly lies and looks to see how he can make any situation make him better. Eric can and will do anything he possibly can to get his way no matter what.

Eric is wildly self centered and can’t stand the idea of anyone around him not wanting to be at his beck and call. He’s broken in his mother to obeying his every whim and becomes enraged when she tries to put her foot down. He is a master manipulator and does not care one bit about anyone around him whatsoever. Eric truly does not feel empathy for people around him- he is the stereotype of a dangerous sociopath.

Eric thinks nothing of people around him, seeing a person cry and be hurt makes him laugh like nothing else. He is a genuine racist and hates Jews- thinking the absolute worst of them. Because of a lack of romantic and sexual endeavors he could consider successful, Eric’s developed incel and neckbeard like tendencies and ways of thinking, feeling like the world owes him sex and love and that he’s such a ‘nice guy’ that is sooo much better than all these other Chads and deserves to be surrounded by pussy. He doesn’t seem to think that his vile way of thinking and language has anything to do with his lackluster love life.

Perhaps what makes Eric so dangerous is the fact that he can be amazingly charismatic. He genuinely has good leadership skills and can masterfully weave words together when he’s actually thinking about it. He has an amazing knack for seeing a person’s weakness and exploiting it. While Eric may not be book smart, he can read and play people like a fiddle.

Eric does have some insecurities about himself but he’s buried them so deep down inside that he doesn’t realize that they’re there.

History: Eric was born and raised by Liane Cartman, a genuinely sweet single mother despite her drug addiction. She tried her hardest to raise Eric well, but as Eric grew older he became worse and worse.

For the first years of his life, he was simply a whiny and argumentative brat but as time went by he began to learn manipulation skills and started to think less and less of the people around him. His first signs of something being off about him was the way he treated his pets and his own mother. Eventually this bled into how he treated his friends and the people around him. Why Stan, Kenny and Kyle bothered with him is anybody’s guess.

Eric has a criminal record but jail seems to have not made any lasting impact on him whatsoever. He’s simply more careful about getting caught by the law. Don’t forget that Eric got away with murder when he was just ten years old. He has no morals whatsoever.

With Marvel’s continued success, Eric also continued his superhero persona. Although he claimed to be a hero fighting for justice, it’s plainly obvious to anyone with any brain cells that this is just another scheme to try and make money and bolster his own image.

Eric’s impulsivity, manipulative ways and anger issues only continued to grow as time went on. While there’s been few additions to his criminal record, the list of crimes and wrongdoings he’s committed is beyond endless. Eric Cartman doesn’t particularly have any dreams for when high school is over which intensely worries Liane. He seems perfectly content to laze around with his mother at his every beck and call.

Whatever the future holds for Eric Cartman, it’s not going to be good for anyone around him.

Sample paragraph: “Kyle you DIRTY, FILTHY FUCKING JEW!” Cartman shrieked, shoving his phone into his supposed ‘friend’s face. “I KNOW you’re running this piece of shit blog WITHOUT ME.”

The Eavesdropper. A gossip blog run by an anonymous group of people who exposed the citizens of South Park’s deepest secrets. It held power. It held influence.

And Eric was completely, and utterly furious that he wasn’t on it.

“I bet you’re just keeping me out so that you can write all the nasty shit you want about me don’t you!? What else would I expect from a nasty fucking ginger, twink jew like you.” He sneered, pulling the phone away and stuffing it into his pocket. “So here’s how this is going to go down. YOU are going to tell your little gossip friends about how AMAZING and AWESOME Eric Cartman is and THEN you’re going to get me onto the group.”

The ability to be able to spread whatever gossip he wanted about anyone he wanted? Well sure he could do that whenever he wanted but this was a platform. It already had most of the work done for him. “And now, I know what you’re thinking- ‘Why would I ever let Eric join? He’s just so awesome and amazing that I know he’d outshine me in a second’. Well this is why Kyle. If you don’t, I’m going to tell everyone in this school that you are gay for Stan. Yeah. You’re fucking gay for him. I’ll tell everyone. And it’ll make everything super awkward between you and him. Maybe I’ll even fake a few kissy faggy love notes so that shit will never be the same between you two.”

His grin was wide and sickly. That would be a good threat. The embarrassment of it and the potential ruin of Kyle’s friendship with his closest and longest lasting pal was more than enough. Erin licked his lips, they tasted like grease from last night’s dinner. Kyle was below him. He was stupid and just another pawn to Eric.

If he didn’t do this- well, Eric could easily find another way to make him.

Headcanons: Eric may be bi but like, hes still super homophobic. Apparently gay activities are only acceptable if he’s doing it.

Anything else: Eric is going to say and do a lot of genuinely horrible things so warning at you dudes about that.

#Eric Cartman #Admin Samantha #application #submission

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amillionmillionvoices · 6 years

Note

11 and for 21, I’ll ask what three characters do you think have had the most influence on your sense of self and/or identity?

11. Ever cosplayed a character/dream cosplay?

I have not, but I own every piece of River Song’s Day of the Moon outfit (the green army dress, boots, belt) and SOMEDAY I WILL BE ABLE TO WEAR IT. It’s too small for me rn but. I HAVE GOALS. (I do wear the boots a lot tho.) This is my dream cosplay.

21. Any fandom related question you can think of. :)

Oh boy. Umm. Well, definitely Miss Parker. Because I was young and impressionable when I fell in love with her and I didn’t know about ‘wife goals’ yet so it was ‘life goals’ all the way like 13 year old Kaz just really wanted to wear high heels and dark lipstick and answer the phone with “What?!” ...which I was told I could not do bc it’s rude. But she also gave me a lot of empathy, I think? Because here was a woman that was outwardly so horrible, but on the inside she was in so much pain all the time. And I loved her so much, that it was easy for me to forgive her faults and mistakes and attitude, because I knew how much she was suffering. So I’ve always kept that in the back of my head, like, if someone’s shitty to you at the supermarket or snaps at you in class or does something otherwise bitchy as hell, to kind of take a breath and be like, “It’s not excusable, but you don’t know what’s going on in their life right now. You don’t know why they behave that way, and maybe this isn’t them. Maybe it’s just a shit day. Maybe they’re working through stuff. You never know.” And basically just taught me to cut people a lot of slack? I don’t tend to get worked up about things, or if I do, I always try to remember that I don’t know everyone’s story, and maybe there’s someone like Parker who just... really needs a damn hug?

...except the lady at the State Fair who told me I was torturing my dog by carrying her around with me. That lady can suck my dick.

Other than that, I’m not really sure? Because I’m not positive if it’s just a “I try to imitate my favs” thing (example: my posture has gotten slightly better since watching The Worst Witch bc of Hecate lol) or if it’s more a subliminal ‘this character really influenced me without my knowing about it’ thing.

Cause also, I tend to fall for...often snarky or otherwise not entirely nice people? Like River, Hecate, Miss Parker, Cuddy... I think Elizabeth Weir was genuinely the only Nice lady love I’ve had. And I could NEVER be as outwardly harsh as they are. Like I just don’t see the point in being a dick to someone intentionally or for fun? It doesn’t give me a sense of superiority, it just makes me feel like garbage later. But again, with the empathy thing. I think that’s a lot of it.

Although, okay, I do tend to be emotionally stunted lol. I hate talking about my ~feelings and I’m REAL bad at face-to-face compliments and genuine emotional dialogue, which... is a bit weird bc my father LOVESSSS to talk about how he feels about things and he’s super emotive and I’m more like my mom/my favs where I just zip up, like “I’ll carry all my emotions right here, and then one day I’ll die.” I’m okay at it on paper/on the internet but face-to-face I’m like WHY R U SAYING NICE THINGS HOW DO I SAY NICE THINGS BACK WHAT IS HAPPENING ABORT ABORT and then I just sort of and change the subject. Good times.

[ fandom number time! ]

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drthetasigma14 · 6 years

Text

Lovecraft Fic/RP Prompts

The Commonplace Book of H.P. Lovecraft

This book consists of ideas, images, & quotations hastily jotted down for possible future use in weird fiction. Very few are actually developed plots—for the most part they are merely suggestions or random impressions designed to set the memory or imagination working. Their sources are various—dreams, things read, casual incidents, idle conceptions, & so on.—H. P. Lovecraft

Presented to R. H. Barlow, Esq., on May 7, 1934—in exchange for an admirably neat typed copy from his skilled hand.

1. Demophon shivered when the sun shone upon him. (Lover of darkness = ignorance.)

2. Inhabitants of Zinge, over whom the star Canopus rises every night, are always gay and without sorrow.

3. The shores of Attica respond in song to the waves of the Aegean.

4. Horror Story. Man dreams of falling—found on floor mangled as tho’ from falling from a vast height.

5. Narrator walks along unfamiliar country road,—comes to strange region of the unreal.

6. In Ld Dunsany’s “Idle Days on the Yann.” The inhabitants of the antient Astahan, on the Yann, do all things according to antient ceremony. Nothing new is found. “Here we have fetter’d and manacled Time, who wou’d otherwise slay the Gods.”

7. Horror Story. The sculptured hand—or other artificial hand—which strangles its creator.

8. Hor. Sto. Man makes appt. with old enemy. Dies—body keeps appt.

9. Dr. Eben Spencer plot.

10. Dream of flying over city.

11. Odd nocturnal ritual. Beasts dance and march to musick.

12. Happenings in interval between preliminary sound and striking of clock—ending— “it was the tones of the clock striking three”.

13. House and garden—old—associations. Scene takes on strange aspect.

14. Hideous sound in the dark.

15. Bridge and slimy black waters.

16. The walking dead—seemingly alive, but—.

17. Doors found mysteriously open and shut etc.—excite terror.

18. Calamander-wood—a very valuable cabinet wood of Ceylon and S. India, resembling rosewood.

19. Revise 1907 tale—painting of ultimate horror.

20. Man journeys into the past—or imaginative realm—leaving bodily shell behind.

21. A very ancient colossus in a very ancient desert. Face gone—no man hath seen it.

22. Mermaid Legend—Encyc. Britt. XVI—40.

23. The man who would not sleep—dares not sleep—takes drugs to keep himself awake. Finally falls asleep—and something happens. Motto from Baudelaire p. 214.

24. Dunsany—Go-By Street. Man stumbles on dream world—returns to earth—seeks to go back—succeeds, but finds dream world ancient and decayed as though by thousands of years.

1919

25. Man visits museum of antiquities—asks that it accept a bas-relief he has just made—old and learned curator laughs and says he cannot accept anything so modern. Man says that ‘dreams are older than brooding Egypt or the contemplative Sphinx or garden-girdled Babylonia’ and that he had fashioned the sculpture in his dreams. Curator bids him shew his product, and when he does so curator shews horror. Asks who the man may be. He tells modern name. “No—before that” says curator. Man does not remember except in dreams. Then curator offers high price, but man fears he means to destroy sculpture. Asks fabulous price—curator will consult directors. Add good development and describe nature of bas-relief.

26. Dream of ancient castle stairs—sleeping guards—narrow window—battle on plain between men of England and men of yellow tabards with red dragons. Leader of English challenges leader of foe to single combat. They fight. Foe unhelmeted, but there is no head revealed. Whole army of foe fades into mist, and watcher finds himself to be the English knight on the plain, mounted. Looks at castle, and sees a peculiar concentration of fantastic clouds over the highest battlements.

27. Life and Death. Death—its desolation and horror—bleak spaces—sea-bottom—dead cities. But Life—the greater horror! Vast unheard-of reptiles and leviathans—hideous beasts of prehistoric jungle—rank slimy vegetation—evil instincts of primal man—Life is more horrible than death.

28. The Cats of Ulthar. The cat is the soul of antique Ægyptus and bearer of tales from forgotten cities of Meroë and Ophir. He is the kin of the jungle’s lords, and heir to the secrets of hoary and sinister Africa. The Sphinx is his cousin, and he speaks her language; but he is more ancient than the Sphinx, and remembers that which she hath forgotten.

29. Dream of Seekonk—ebbing tide—bolt from sky—exodus from Providence—fall of Congregational dome.

30. Strange visit to a place at night—moonlight—castle of great magnificence etc. Daylight shews either abandonment or unrecognisable ruins—perhaps of vast antiquity.

31. Prehistoric man preserved in Siberian ice. (See Winchell—Walks and Talks in the Geological field—p. 156 et seq.)

32. As dinosaurs were once surpassed by mammals, so will man-mammal be surpassed by insect or bird—fall of man before the new race.

33. Determinism and prophecy.

34. Moving away from earth more swiftly than light—past gradually unfolded—horrible revelation.

35. Special beings with special senses from remote universes. Advent of an external universe to view.

36. Disintegration of all matter to electrons and finally empty space assured, just as devolution of energy to radiant heat is known. Case of acceleration—man passes into space.

37. Peculiar odour of a book of childhood induces repetition of childhood fancy.

38. Drowning sensations—undersea—cities—ships—souls of the dead. Drowning is a horrible death.

39. Sounds—possibly musical—heard in the night from other worlds or realms of being.

40. Warning that certain ground is sacred or accursed; that a house or city must not be built upon it—or must be abandoned or destroyed if built, under penalty of catastrophe.

41. The Italians call Fear La figlia della Morte—the daughter of Death.

42. Fear of mirrors—memory of dream in which scene is altered and climax is hideous surprise at seeing oneself in the water or a mirror. (Identity?)

43. Monsters born living—burrow underground and multiply, forming race of unsuspected daemons.

44. Castle by pool or river—reflection fixed thro’ centuries—castle destroyed, reflection lives to avenge destroyers weirdly.

45. Race of immortal Pharaohs dwelling beneath pyramids in vast subterranean halls down black staircases.

46 . Hawthorne—unwritten plot. Visitor from tomb—stranger at some publick concourse followed at midnight to graveyard where he descends into the earth.

47. From Arabia Encyc. Britan. II—255. Prehistoric fabulous tribes of Ad in the south, Thamood in the north, and Tasm and Jadis in the centre of the peninsula. “Very gorgeous are the descriptions given of Irem, the City of Pillars (as the Koran styles it) supposed to have been erected by Shedad, the latest despot of Ad, in the regions of Hadramaut, and which yet, after the annihilation of its tenants, remains entire, so Arabs say, invisible to ordinary eyes, but occasionally and at rare intervals, revealed to some heaven-favoured traveller.” // Rock excavations in N.W. Hejaz ascribed to Thamood tribe.

48. Cities wiped out by supernatural wrath.

49. AZATHOTH—hideous name.

50. Phleg′-e-thon: a river of liquid fire in Hades.

51. Enchanted garden where moon casts shadow of object or ghost invisible to the human eye.

52. Calling on the dead—voice or familiar sound in adjacent room.

53. Hand of dead man writes.

54. Transposition of identity.

55. Man followed by invisible thing.

56. Book or MS. too horrible to read—warned against reading it—someone reads and is found dead. Haverhill incident.

57. Sailing or rowing on lake in moonlight—sailing into invisibility.

58. A queer village—in a valley, reached by a long road and visible from the crest of the hill from which that road descends—or close to a dense and antique forest.

59. Man in strange subterranean chamber—seeks to force door of bronze—overwhelmed by influx of waters.

60. Fisherman casts his net into the sea by moonlight—what he finds.

61. A terrible pilgrimage to seek the nighted throne of the far daemon-sultan Azathoth.

62. Live man buried in bridge masonry according to superstition—or black cat.

63. Sinister names—Nasht—Kaman-Thah.

64. Identity—reconstruction of personality—man makes duplicate of himself.

65. Riley’s fear of undertakers—door locked on inside after death.

66. Catacombs discovered beneath a city (in America?).

67. An impression—city in peril—dead city—equestrian statue—men in closed room—clattering of hooves heard from outside—marvel disclosed on looking out—doubtful ending.

68. Murder discovered—body located—by psychological detective who pretends he has made walls of room transparent. Works on fear of murderer.

69. Man with unnatural face—oddity of speaking—found to be a mask—Revelation.

70. Tone of extreme phantasy. Man transformed to island or mountain.

71. Man has sold his soul to devil—returns to family from trip—life afterward—fear—culminating horror—novel length.

72. Hallowe’en incident—mirror in cellar—face seen therein—death (claw-mark?).

73. Rats multiply and exterminate first a single city and then all mankind. Increased size and intelligence.

74. Italian revenge—killing self in cell with enemy—under castle.

75. Black Mass under antique church.

76. Ancient cathedral—hideous gargoyle—man seeks to rob—found dead—gargoyle’s jaw bloody.

77. Unspeakable dance of the gargoyles—in morning several gargoyles on old cathedral found transposed.

78. Wandering thro’ labyrinth of narrow slum streets—come on distant light—unheard-of rites of swarming beggars—like Court of Miracles in Notre Dame de Paris.

79. Horrible secret in crypt of ancient castle—discovered by dweller.

80. Shapeless living thing forming nucleus of ancient building.

81. Marblehead—dream—burying hill—evening—unreality.

82. Power of wizard to influence dreams of others.

1920

83. Quotation “. . . a defunct nightmare, which had perished in the midst of its wickedness, and left its flabby corpse on the breast of the tormented one, to be gotten rid of as it might.”—Hawthorne

84. Hideous cracked discords of bass musick from (ruin’d) organ in (abandon’d) abbey or cathedral.

85. “For has not Nature, too, her grotesques—the rent rock, the distorting lights of evening on lonely roads, the unveiled structure of man in the embryo, or the skeleton?” Pater—Renaissance (da Vinci).

86. To find something horrible in a (perhaps familiar) book, and not to be able to find it again.

87. Borellus says, “that the Essential Salts of animals may be so prepared and preserved, that an ingenious man may have the whole ark of Noah in his own Study, and raise the fine shape of an animal out of its ashes at his pleasure; and that by the like method from the Essential Salts of humane dust, a Philosopher may, without any criminal necromancy, call up the shape of any dead ancestor from the dust whereinto his body has been incinerated.”

88. Lonely philosopher fond of cat. Hypnotises it—as it were—by repeatedly talking to it and looking at it. After his death the cat evinces signs of possessing his personality. N.B. He has trained cat, and leaves it to a friend, with instructions as to fitting a pen to its right fore paw by means of a harness. Later writes with deceased’s own handwriting.

89. Lone lagoons and swamps of Louisiana—death daemon—ancient house and gardens—moss-grown trees—festoons of Spanish moss.

1922

90. Anencephalous or brainless monster who survives and attains prodigious size.

91. Lost winter day—slept over—20 yrs. later. Sleep in chair on summer night—false dawn—old scenery and sensations—cold—old persons now dead—horror—frozen?

92. Man’s body dies—but corpse retains life. Stalks about—tries to conceal odour of decay—detained somewhere—hideous climax.

93. A place one has been—a beautiful view of a village or farm-dotted valley in the sunset—which one cannot find again or locate in memory.

94. Change comes over the sun—shews objects in strange form, perhaps restoring landscape of the past.

95. Horrible Colonial farmhouse and overgrown garden on city hillside—overtaken by growth. Verse “The House” as basis of story.

96. Unknown fires seen across the hills at night.

97. Blind fear of a certain woodland hollow where streams writhe among crooked roots, and where on a buried altar terrible sacrifices have occur’d—Phosphorescence of dead trees. Ground bubbles.

98. Hideous old house on steep city hillside—Bowen St.—beckons in the night—black windows—horror unnam’d—cold touch and voice—the welcome of the dead.

1923

99. Salem story—the cottage of an aged witch—wherein after her death are found sundry terrible things.

100. Subterranean region beneath placid New England village, inhabited by (living or extinct) creatures of prehistoric antiquity and strangeness.

101. Hideous secret society—widespread—horrible rites in caverns under familiar scenes—one’s own neighbour may belong.

102. Corpse in room performs some act—prompted by discussion in its presence. Tears up or hides will, etc.

103. Sealed room—or at least no lamp allowed there. Shadow on wall.

104. Old sea tavern now far inland from made land. Strange occurrences—sound of lapping of waves.

105. Vampire visits man in ancestral abode—is his own father.

106. A thing that sat on a sleeper’s chest. Gone in morning, but something left behind.

1923

107. Wall paper cracks off in sinister shape—man dies of fright.

108. Educated mulatto seeks to displace personality of white man and occupy his body.

109. Ancient negro voodoo wizard in cabin in swamp—possesses white man.

110. Antediluvian—Cyclopean ruins on lonely Pacific island. Centre of earthwide subterranean witch cult.

111. Ancient ruin in Alabama swamp—voodoo.

112. Man lives near graveyard—how does he live? Eats no food.

113. Biological-hereditary memories of other worlds and universes. Butler—God Known and Unk. p. 59.

114. Death lights dancing over a salt marsh.

115. Ancient castle within sound of weird waterfall—sound ceases for a time under strange conditions.

116. Prowling at night around an unlighted castle amidst strange scenery.

117. A secret living thing kept and fed in an old house.

1924

118. Something seen at oriel window of forbidden room in ancient manor house.

119. Art note—fantastick daemons of Salvator Rosa or Fuseli (trunk-proboscis).

120. Talking bird of great longevity—tells secret long afterward.

121. Photius tells of a (lost) writer named Damascius, who wrote “Incredible Fictions,” “Tales of Daemons,” “Marvellous Stories of Appearances from the Dead”.

122. Horrible things whispered in the lines of Gauthier de Metz (13th cen.) “Image du Monde”.

123. Dried-up man living for centuries in cataleptic state in ancient tomb.

124. Hideous secret assemblage at night in antique alley—disperse furtively one by one—one seen to drop something—a human hand—

125. Man abandon’d by ship—swimming in sea—pickt up hours later with strange story of undersea region he has visited—mad??

126. Castaways on island eat unknown vegetation and become strangely transformed.

127. Ancient and unknown ruins—strange and immortal bird who speaks in a language horrifying and revelatory to the explorers.

128. Individual, by some strange process, retraces the path of evolution and becomes amphibious.

1925

129. Marble Faun p. 346—strange and prehistorick Italian city of stone.

130. N.E. region call’d “Witches’ Hollow”—along course of a river. Rumours of witches’ sabbaths and Indian powwows on a broad mound rising out of the level where some old hemlocks and beeches formed a dark grove or daemon-temple. Legends hard to account for. Holmes—Guardian Angel.

131. Phosphorescence of decaying wood—called in New England “fox-fire”.

132. Mad artist in ancient sinister house draws things. What were his models? Glimpse.

133. Man has miniature shapeless Siamese twin—exhib. in circus—twin surgically detached—disappears—does hideous things with malign life of his own.

134. Witches’ Hollow novel? Man hired as teacher in private school misses road on first trip—encounters dark hollow with unnaturally swollen trees and small cottage (light in window?). Reaches school and hears that boys are forbidden to visit hollow. One boy is strange—teacher sees him visit hollow—odd doings—mysterious disappearance or hideous fate.

135. Hideous world superimposed on visible world—gate through—power guides narrator to ancient and forbidden book with directions for access.

136. A secret language spoken by a very few old men in a wild country leads to hidden marvels and terrors still surviving.

137. Strange man seen in lonely mountain place talking with great winged thing which flies away as others approach.

138. Someone or something cries in fright at sight of the rising moon, as if it were something strange.

139. DELRIO asks “An sint unquam daemones incubi et succubae, et an ex tali congressu proles nasci queat?” [Red Hook]

140. Explorer enters strange land where some atmospheric quality darkens the sky to virtual blackness—marvels therein.

1926

141. Footnote by Haggard or Lang in “The World’s Desire”: “Probably the mysterious and indecipherable ancient books, which were occasionally excavated in old Egypt, were written in this dead language of a more ancient and now forgotten people. Such was the book discovered at Coptos, in the ancient sanctuary there, by a priest of the Goddess. ‘The whole earth was dark, but the moon shone all about the Book.’ A scribe of the period of the Ramessids mentions another in indecipherable ancient writing. ‘Thou tellest me thou understandest no word of it, good or bad. There is, as it were, a wall about it that none may climb. Thou art instructed, yet thou knowest it not; this makes me afraid.’ Birch Zeitschrift 1871 pp. 61–64 Papyrus Anastasi I pl. X, l.8, pl. X l.4. Maspero, Hist. Anc. pp. 66–67.

142. Members of witch-cult were buried face downward. Man investigates ancestor in family tomb and finds disquieting condition.

143. Strange well in Arkham country—water gives out (or was never struck —hole kept tightly covered by a stone ever since dug)—no bottom—shunned and feared—what lay beneath (either unholy temple or other very ancient thing, or great cave-world).

144. Hideous book glimpsed in ancient shop—never seen again.

145. Horrible boarding house—closed door never opened.

146. Ancient lamp found in tomb—when filled and used, its light reveals strange world.

147. Any very ancient, unknown, or prehistoric object—its power of suggestion—forbidden memories.

148. Vampire dog.

149. Evil alley or enclosed court in ancient city—Union or Milligan St.

150. Visit to someone in wild and remote house—ride from station through the night—into the haunted hills—house by forest or water—terrible things live there.

151. Man forced to take shelter in strange house. Host has thick beard and dark glasses. Retires. In night guest rises and sees host’s clothes about—also mask which was the apparent face of whatever the host was. Flight.

152. Autonomic nervous system and subconscious mind do not reside in the head. Have mad physician decapitate a man but keep him alive and subconsciously controlled. Avoid copying tale by W. C. Morrow.

1928

153. Black cat on hill near dark gulf of ancient inn yard. Mew hoarsely—invites artist to nighted mysteries beyond. Finally dies at advanced age. Haunts dreams of artist—lures him to follow—strange outcome (never wakes up? or makes bizarre discovery of an elder world outside 3-dimensioned space?)

154. Trophonius—cave of. Vide Class. Dict. and Atlantic article.

155. Steepled town seen from afar at sunset—does not light up at night. Sail has been seen putting out to sea.

156. Adventures of a disembodied spirit—thro’ dim, half-familiar cities and over strange moors—thro’ space and time—other planets and universes in the end.

157. Vague lights, geometrical figures, etc., seen on retina when eyes are closed. Caus’d by rays from other dimensions acting on optick nerve? From other planets? Connected with a life or phase of being in which person could live if he only knew how to get there? Man afraid to shut eyes—he has been somewhere on a terrible pilgrimage and this fearsome seeing faculty remains.

158. Man has terrible wizard friend who gains influence over him. Kills him in defence of his soul—walls body up in ancient cellar—BUT—the dead wizard (who has said strange things about soul lingering in body) changes bodies with him . . . leaving him a conscious corpse in cellar.

159. Certain kind of deep-toned stately music of the style of the 1870’s or 1880’s recalls certain visions of that period—gas-litten parlours of the dead, moonlight on old floors, decaying business streets with gas lamps, etc.—under terrible circumstances.

160. Book which induces sleep on reading—cannot be read—determined man reads it—goes mad—precautions taken by aged initiate who knows—protection (as of author and translator) by incantation.

161. Time and space—past event—150 yrs ago—unexplained. Modern period—person intensely homesick for past says or does something which is psychically transmitted back and actually causes the past event.

162. Ultimate horror—grandfather returns from strange trip—mystery in house—wind and darkness—grandf. and mother engulfed—questions forbidden—somnolence—investigation—cataclysm—screams overheard—

163. Man whose money was obscurely made loses it. Tells his family he must go again to THE PLACE (horrible and sinister and extra-dimensional) where he got his gold. Hints of possible pursuers—or of his possible non-return. He goes—record of what happens to him—or what happens at his home when he returns. Perhaps connect with preceding topic. Give fantastic, quasi-Dunsanian treatment.

164. Man observed in a publick place with features (or ring or jewel) identified with those of man long (perhaps generations) buried.

165. Terrible trip to an ancient and forgotten tomb.

166. Hideous family living in shadow in ancient castle by edge of wood near black cliffs and monstrous waterfall.

167. Boy rear’d in atmosphere of considerable mystery. Believes father dead. Suddenly is told that father is about to return. Strange preparations—consequences.

168. Lonely bleak islands off N.E. coast. Horrors they harbour—outpost of cosmic influences.

169. What hatches from primordial egg.

170. Strange man in shadowy quarter of ancient city possesses something of immemorial archaic horror.

171. Hideous old book discovered—directions for shocking evocation.

1930

172. Pre-human idol found in desert.

173. Idol in museum moves in a certain way.

174. Migration of Lemmings—Atlantis.

175. Little green Celtic figures dug up in an ancient Irish bog.

176. Man blindfolded and taken in closed cab or car to some very ancient and secret place.

177. The dreams of one man actually create a strange half-mad world of quasi-material substance in another dimension. Another man, also a dreamer, blunders into this world in a dream. What he finds. Intelligence of denizens. Their dependence on the first dreamer. What happens at his death.

178. A very ancient tomb in the deep woods near where a 17th century Virginia manor-house used to be. The undecayed, bloated thing found within.

179. Appearance of an ancient god in a lonely and archaic place—prob. temple ruin. Atmosphere of beauty rather than horror. Subtle handling—presence revealed by faint sound or shadow. Landscape changes? Seen by child? Impossible to reach or identify locale again?

180. A general house of horror—nameless crime—sounds—later tenants—(Flammarion) (novel length?).

181. Inhabitant of another world—face masked, perhaps with human skin or surgically alter’d human shape, but body alien beneath robes. Having reached earth, tries to mix with mankind. Hideous revelation.

182. In ancient buried city a man finds a mouldering prehistoric document in English and in his own handwriting, telling an incredible tale. Voyage from present into past implied. Possible actualisation of this.

183. Reference in Egyptian papyrus to a secret of secrets under tomb of high-priest Ka-Nefer. Tomb finally found and identified—trap door in stone floor—staircase, and the illimitable black abyss.

184. Expedition lost in Antarctic or other weird place. Skeletons and effects found years later. Camera films used but undeveloped. Finders develop—and find strange horror.

185. Scene of an urban horror—Sous le Cap or Champlain Sts.—Quebec—rugged cliff-face—moss, mildew, dampness—houses half-burrowing into cliff.

186. Thing from sea—in dark house, man finds doorknobs etc. wet as from touch of something. He has been a sea-captain, and once found a strange temple on a volcanically risen island.

1931

187. Dream of awaking in vast hall of strange architecture, with sheet-covered forms on slabs—in positions similar to one’s own. Suggestions of disturbingly non-human outlines under sheets. One of the objects moves and throws off sheet—non-terrestrial being revealed. Sugg. that oneself is also such a being—mind has become transferred to body on other planet.

188. Desert of rock—prehistoric door in cliff, in the valley around which lie the bones of uncounted billions of animals both modern and prehistoric—some of them puzzlingly gnawed.

189. Ancient necropolis—bronze door in hillside which opens as the moonlight strikes it—focussed by ancient lens in pylon opposite?

1932

190. Primal mummy in museum—awakes and changes place with visitor.

191. An odd wound appears on a man’s hand suddenly and without apparent cause. Spreads. Consequences.

1933

192. Thibetan ROLANG—Sorcerer (or NGAGSPA) reanimates a corpse by holding it in a dark room—lying on it mouth to mouth and repeating a magic formula with all else banished from his mind. Corpse slowly comes to life and stands up. Tries to escape—leaps, bounds, and struggles—but sorcerer holds it. Continues with magic formula. Corpse sticks out tongue and sorcerer bites it off. Corpse then collapses. Tongue become a valuable magic talisman. If corpse escapes—hideous results and death to sorcerer.

193. Strange book of horror discovered in ancient library. Paragraphs of terrible significance copies. Later unable to find and verify text. Perhaps discover body or image or charm under floor, in secret cupboard, or elsewhere. Idea that book was merely hypnotic delusion induced by dead brain or ancient magic.

194. Man enters (supposedly) own house in pitch dark. Feels way to room and shuts door behind him. Strange horrors—or turns on lights and finds alien place or presence. Or finds past restored or future indicated.

195. Pane of peculiar-looking glass from a ruined monastery reputed to have harboured devil-worship set up in modern house at edge of wild country. Landscape looks vaguely and unplaceably wrong through it. It has some unknown time-distorting quality, and comes from a primal, lost civilisation. Finally, hideous things in other world seen through it.

196. Daemons, when desiring an human form for evil purposes, take to themselves the bodies of hanged men.

197. Loss of memory and entry into a cloudy world of strange sights and experiences after shock, accident, reading of strange book, participation in strange rite, draught of strange brew, etc. Things seen have vague and disquieting familiarity. Emergence. Inability to retrace course.

1934

198. Distant tower visible from hillside window. Bats cluster thickly around it at night. Observer fascinated. One night wakes to find self on unknown black circular staircase. In tower? Hideous goal.

199. Black winged thing flies into one’s house at night. Cannot be found or identified—but subtle developments ensue.

200. Invisible Thing felt—or seen to make prints—on mountain top or other height, inaccessible place.

201. Planets form’d of invisible matter.

202. A monstrous derelict—found and boarded by a castaway or shipwreck survivor.

203. A return to a place under dreamlike, horrible, and only dimly comprehended circumstances. Death and decay reigning—town fails to light up at night—Revelation.

204. Disturbing conviction that all life is only a deceptive dream with some dismal or sinister horror lurking behind.

205. Person gazes out window and finds city and world dark and dead (or oddly changed) outside.

206. Trying to identify and visit the distant scenes dimly seen from one’s window—bizarre consequences.

207. Something snatched away from one in the dark—in a lonely, ancient, and generally shunned place.

208. (Dream of) some vehicle—railway train, coach, etc.—which is boarded in a stupor or fever, and which is a fragment of some past or ultra-dimensional world—taking the passenger out of reality—into vague, age-crumbled regions or unbelievable gulfs of marvel.

1935

209. Special Correspondence of NY Times—March 3, 1935 “Halifax, N.S.—Etched deeply into the face of an island which rises from the Atlantic surges off the S. coast of Nova Scotia 20 m. from Halifax is the strangest rock phenomenon which Canada boasts. Storm, sea, and frost have graven into the solid cliff of what has come to be known as Virgin’s Island an almost perfect outline of the Madonna with the Christ Child in her arms. The island has sheer and wave-bound sides, is a danger to ships, and is absolutely uninhabited. So far as is known, no human being has ever set foot on its shores.”

210. An ancient house with blackened pictures on the walls—so obscured that their subjects cannot be deciphered. Cleaning—and revelation. Cf. Hawthorne—Edw. Rand. Port.

211. Begin story with presence of narrator—inexplicable to himself—in utterly alien and terrifying scenes (dream?).

212. Strange human being (or beings) living in some ancient house or ruins far from populous district (either old N.E. or far exotic land). Suspicion (based on shape and habits) that it is not all human.

213. Ancient winter woods—moss—great boles—twisted branches—dark—ribbed roots—always dripping. . . .

214. Talking rock of Africa—immemorially ancient oracle in desolate jungle ruins that speaks with a voice out of the aeons.

215. Man with lost memory in strange, imperfectly comprehended environment. Fears to regain memory—a glimpse. . . .

216. Man idly shapes a queer image—some power impels him to make it queerer than he understands. Throws it away in disgust—but something is abroad in the night.

217. Ancient (Roman? prehistoric?) stone bridge washed away by a (sudden and curious?) storm. Something liberated which had been sealed up in the masonry of years ago. Things happen.

218. Mirage in time—image of long-vanish’d pre-human city.

219. Fog or smoke—assumes shaped under incantations.

220. Bell of some ancient church or castle rung by some unknown hand—a thing . . . or an invisible Presence.

221. Insects or other entities from space attack and penetrate a man’s head and cause him to remember alien and exotic things—possible displacement of personality.

#prompts #fic prompts #rp prompts #starters #rp starters #drabble prompts #lovecraft #cw: horror #cw: death #cw: body horror #ooc? what's ooc?

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little-jester-adventures · 6 years

Text

1OO IMPORTANT CHARACTER QUESTIONS

(( I really wanted to do this meme for a long time now ! But I kinda struggled with which verse I would do for Elisa. But since it’s tumblr, I’ll do it with the more Borderlands-tumblr verse I have for her right now. If you guys want to see this meme with Elisa her main/canon backstory. Feel free to tell me :) ))

PART 1: THE BASICS

What is your full name? “My name is Elisa de Graaf.”

Where and when were you born? “I was born on Earth. Haha no, I was born in the Netherlands on the 13th of February 1994.”

Who are/were your parents? (Know their names, occupations, personalities, etc.) “Uhm...That’s a weird situation...I have my own parents, David and Selina de Graaf. My dad and I share the same powers and he is a magician who preforms shows around the world. My mom has telepathic powers, just like my brother. She works as promoter for my dad. So they can be together as often as possible ! They are kind, funny and very supportive. But uhmm..Now the weird part...Since I kinda live on Pandora now, I got a set of new parents. Handsome Jack and Nisha the sheriff of Lynchwood...Yea...I call them my murder parents, because, well...You know...”

Do you have any siblings? What are/were they like? “I have ! My brother Liam de Graaf, he’s a couple years older then me and share the same powers as my mom. He is very protective and funny. I miss him...But I have nothing to fear. I got my Pandoran brother now, August ! August is such an amazing guy. He takes care of me, he’s kinda, funny, charming and makes me feel at home again.”

Where do you live now, and with whom? Describe the place and the person/people. “Right now I live in a couple of places. I have a place on Helios, in Lynchwood, in Hallow Point and with Rhys is the Atlas facility.”

What is your occupation? “I work in the Purple Skag as a waitress.”

Write a full physical description of yourself. You might want to consider factors such as: height, weight, race, hair and eye color, style of dress, and any tattoos, scars, or distinguishing marks. “Uhmm...I’m 5′8 feet tall. I have long brown hair with a little streak always on my face. I also paint a little star on my cheek because I’m took scared to get a tattoo on my face. This doesn’t mean I don’t have any tattoos. I have a bunch of tattoos on my hips and back and with a little help of my silly magic, I made them fade and appear on random parts of my back. Oh ! And I don’t weight a lot...whoops.”

To which social class do you belong? “Here on Pandora ? I think a pretty high one...Since I have ben adopted by Handsome Jack and Nisha.”

Do you have any allergies, diseases, or other physical weaknesses? “I’m not very strong...”

Are you right- or left-handed? “I am right handed.”

What does your voice sound like? “Uhm...Pretty high pichted, maybe a bit annoying...It’s not high pichted like a 4 year old...But well...You know.”

What words and/or phrases do you use very frequently? “Oh my goodness. Oh jeez. IT HAPPENED ONCE !”

What do you have in your pockets? “Uhm...empty candy wraps...I ate a few a couple of minutes ago hahaha.”

Do you have any quirks, strange mannerisms, annoying habits, or other defining characteristics? “I giggle a lot and very quick, I trust people waaaay to quickly, I also turn really REALLY red very often. Oh...And when I get drunk...I start to float because I can’t controle my powers very well when I’m drunk.”

PART 2: GROWING UP

How would you describe your childhood in general? “Very good ! I had a great childhood.”

What is your earliest memory? “Uhmm...My earliest memory is about my brother and I sharing ice cream. I was covered in it tho hahaha.”

How much schooling have you had? “I went Highschool and College.”

Did you enjoy school? “Highschool was a bit meh, because you know how teenagers are...I was the weirdest girl in school with strange powers...So yea, I got bullied a bit.”

Where did you learn most of your skills and other abilities? “From my father and from my friends.”

While growing up, did you have any role models? If so, describe them. “My role model were my parents, yea I know it’s super cheesy. But they were good people, they were kind and showed me that there is good in the world that we need to protect.”

While growing up, how did you get along with the other members of your family?

As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up? “I wanted to be a nurse.”

As a child, what were your favorite activities? “Playing piano and later violin.”

As a child, what kinds of personality traits did you display? “Cheeky, adventures, curious, kind and a little trouble maker. All I wanted to do was go on adventures and be a superhero.”

As a child, were you popular? Who were your friends, and what were they like? “Yea I was, because I was able to show my friends some little tricks I learned. My friends were kids who lived nearby and from school.”

When and with whom was your first kiss? “M-My first kiss ? Oh...Oh goodness. That was back in highschool. I was...15 ? With my first boyfriend at the time...Who...Well kinda dumped me a couple months later because ugh never mind.”

Are you a virgin? If not, when and with whom did you lose your virginity? “Believe it or not, but I’m not a virgin. I lost mine at the end of highschool when I was 18 with my second boyfriend who was very sweet and kind back then.”

If you are a supernatural being (i.e. mage, werewolf, vampire), tell the story of how you became what you are or first learned of your own abilities. If you are just a normal human, describe any influences in your past that led you to do the things you do today. “I was born with my powers. Just like my parents, I didn’t have to do any scary things to get my powers. Thank god for that !”

PART 3: PAST INFLUENCES

What do you consider the most important event of your life so far? “I have a few...But I think...The moment I made a big mistake by trying out new magic and ended up here on Pandora...”

Who has had the most influence on you? “My friends and family.”

What do you consider your greatest achievement? “My greatest ? Was joining my superhero team back home and helped a lot of people across the world.”

What is your greatest regret? “Not staying in contact with them...When we split up...”

What is the most evil thing you have ever done? “Now see...I don’t like doing evil things to people...”

Do you have a criminal record of any kind? “Nope ! And I would like to keep it that way...”

When was the time you were the most frightened? “The first few hours on Pandora. I had no diea where I was, if there were people on the planet, what kind of dangers I would come across...The whole being on Pandora thing was very frightening.”

What is the most embarrassing thing ever to happen to you? “I uhmm...W-Well I...I kinda kissed Jack when I was really drunk...IT WAS SO EMBARRASSING WHEN I FOUND OUT WHAT I DID !”

If you could change one thing from your past, what would it be, and why? “Stay in contacted with my old superhero buddies...”

What is your best memory? “Creating our superhero team and living with my new family.”

What is your worst memory? “Losing them...”

PART 4: BELIEFS & OPINIONS

Are you basically optimistic or pessimistic? “I am very optimistic !”

What is your greatest fear? “Dying alone...”

What are your religious views? “Uhm...Not really....I believe there is something out there watching over us, but I don’t know what it is...”

What are your political views? “Uhm...skip !”

What are your views on sex? “It’s nice.”

Are you able to kill? Under what circumstances do you find killing to be acceptable or unacceptable? “I-I don’t like killing people. I only did it...Twice...Because we had no choice. I believe that everything can be solved by talking or helping someone...Killing is never the answer...Sadly that’s not how it works here on Pandora.”

In your opinion, what is the most evil thing any human being could do? “Killing someones family...Those are the people who you are bounded with for live...And then you take that bond away from someone...It’s the most horrible thing.”

Do you believe in the existence of soul mates and/or true love? “I do ! Ofcourse I do ! True love is always out there and everyone will find it.”

What do you believe makes a successful life? “A successful life ? Oh that’s a difficult question. I think for me it would be to be happy with my partner, not have to worry about money and raise a family.”

How honest are you about your thoughts and feelings (i.e. do you hide your true self from others, and in what way)? “I...I hide a lot...That’s all I want to say about it.”

Do you have any biases or prejudices? “I try not to have any...But sometimes I do...Sorry...”

Is there anything you absolutely refuse to do under any circumstances? Why do you refuse to do it? “I will not kill people...”

Who or what, if anything, would you die for (or otherwise go to extremes for)? “My friends and family.”

PART 5: RELATIONSHIPS W/OTHERS

In general, how do you treat others (politely, rudely, by keeping them at a distance, etc.)? Does your treatment of them change depending on how well you know them, and if so, how? “I treat people how I want others to treat me. Politely, with kindness and I’m always willing to listen to everyone. Sure it changes a bit when I get to know the person better, I get a bit more bold. But I always stay kind towards everyone.”

Who is the most important person in your life, and why? “Right now ? Rhys. Right behind Rhys on my list are August, Nisha and Jack. But Rhys is the most right because...Well he’s my boyfriend.”

Who is the person you respect the most, and why? “The most respect ? Hmmm....I have to say August and Jack. Because they both made a name for themself...Sure in...very different approaches...But that’s not what I want to focus on.”

Who are your friends? Do you have a best friend? Describe these people. “My friends. Well you have Rhys, who is my boyfriend. Nisha, who took me in when I had no place to go and she quickly became my best friend ! August, who is my Pandoran brother ! Handsome Jack, sure our relationship is kinda weird...But I see him as a friend. And Pari, she’s such an awesome friend, I love her. And there are a lot more, but we’re not that close yet...”

Do you have a spouse or significant other? If so, describe this person. “My significant other is Rhys. He’s funny, kind, a bit sassy and works really hard. I love him.”

Have you ever been in love? If so, describe what happened. “Hmmm...Like I stated a couple of times...I have boyfriend ! So yea I have been in love. It was a very warm and fuzzy and felt great.”

What do you look for in a potential lover? “A man who loves me for who I am, even with my strange powers. Who is taller then me and loves cuddling. Oh and who’s older then me is always great.”

How close are you to your family? “I am very close with both my families, the one back home and the one here on Pandora. Sure I could get a bit closer with Jack...But we can work on that.”

Have you started your own family? If so, describe them. If not, do you want to? Why or why not? “Why not ? Uhm...I’m 24...I’m a bit too young.”

Who would you turn to if you were in desperate need of help? “That depends on the situation...But I think I would go to Nisha first. She’s the one person who has known me the longest...But she has told me that’s not very good with emotions...”

Do you trust anyone to protect you? Who, and why? “I do. I trust August, because he sees me as his little sister and has already protected me a couple of times. I trust Nisha, for the same reason. And I trust Rhys ofcourse.”

If you died or went missing, who would miss you? “I hope my Pandoran friends and family would miss me...”

Who is the person you despise the most, and why? “I don’t really despise anyone...”

Do you tend to argue with people, or avoid conflict? “I mostly try to avoid conflict...”

Do you tend to take on leadership roles in social situations? “I do, I love interacting with people !”

Do you like interacting with large groups of people? Why or why not? “I do ! Because it’s fun to meet a lot of people and hear their awesome stories.”

Do you care what others think of you? “I do...But I shouldn’t...But it’s hard to not think about it over and over again. I want people to see me as kind and caring...“

PART 6: LIKES & DISLIKES

What is/are your favorite hobbies and pastimes? “I love watching movies with Rhys, Dancing and singing in the Purple Skag with August and my shooting practice with Nisha.”

What is your most treasured possession? “A picture of my family back home I always have stored in my tophat...”

What is your favorite color? “Red, yellow and purple.”

What is your favorite food? “Anything that is sweet hahaha.”

What, if anything, do you like to read? “I like to read history books and books about magic.”

What is your idea of good entertainment (consider music, movies, art, etc.)? “Music you can dance to, I want to have a great time and lose myself in it. Same goes for movies !”

Do you smoke, drink, or use drugs? If so, why? Do you want to quit? “I do drink, I like cocktails oke haha. But I’m a lightweight.”

How do you spend a typical Saturday night? “Cleaning the bar with August, talking about our day and have a good laugh when bar is closed.”

What makes you laugh? “Rhys making silly jokes. Nisha talking about Violet and Jack. Oh ! oh ! oh ! And when August does impressions of people we know !”

What, if anything, shocks or offends you? “People not taking me serious...”

What would you do if you had insomnia and had to find something to do to amuse yourself? “Play with magic, talk to my bunny or...read or something.”

How do you deal with stress? “Uhm...I try to take a long warm bath and try to listen to some nice music.”

Are you spontaneous, or do you always need to have a plan? “I am pretty spontaneous. Sure a plan is nice...But most of the time I don’t have one.”

What are your pet peeves? “People bringing up things I did in the past I feel embarrassed about.”

PART 7: SELF IMAGES & OTHER

Describe the routine of a normal day for you. How do you feel when this routine is disrupted? “My routine ? Oh it’s not that special. I get up in the morning, get dressed and check what I have to do one that day...It’s a oke routine, nothing too special.”

What is your greatest strength as a person? “Mine ? Uhmm...I think my kindness ? I don’t know...I don’t think I really have any strengths.”

What is your greatest weakness? “My naivety...”

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? “I want to be stronger...I don’t want to feel weak like I feel right now...”

Are you generally introverted or extroverted? “I am very extroverted !”

Are you generally organized or messy? “I’m pretty organized.”

Name three things you consider yourself to be very good at, and three things you consider yourself to be very bad at. “Things I’m good at ? Uhm...Listening to people, making people smile and taking care of my friends. Things I’m bad at, Learning to not trust every person I meet, magic and defending myself.”

Do you like yourself? “Uhm...I...I’m not sure to be honest...”

What are your reasons for being an adventurer (or doing the strange and heroic things that RPG characters do)? Are your real reasons for doing this different than the ones you tell people in public? (If so, detail both sets of reasons…) “I do these things to be a hero. I want to help people, that’s my biggest goal in life.”

What goal do you most want to accomplish in your lifetime? “I want to be able to control all of my powers.”

Where do you see yourself in 5 years? “In 5 years I hope I’ll have figured out how to use my powers to switch between Pandora and Earth so I can always visit all my friends and families.”

If you could choose, how would you want to die? “Defending a friend or family member.”

If you knew you were going to die in 24 hours, name three things you would do in the time you had left. “Say goodbye to Jack and Nisha. and give Nisha my tophat because she likes it so much. Stay a few hours with August to calm him down and tell him everything is going to be oke, leave Apollo with him to take care off...And my last hours I’ll spend with Rhys...”

What is the one thing for which you would most like to be remembered after your death? “My kindess...”

What three words best describe your personality? “Kind, silly and a bit of handfull.”

What three words would others probably use to describe you? “Bubbly, cheery and naive.”

If you could, what advice would you, the player, give to your character? (You might even want to speak as if he or she were sitting right here in front of you, and use proper tone so he or she might heed your advice…) “You are a great person...I don’t be so hard on yourself and take the compliment you get. Don’t stress yourself out, you are doing great...”

#Jester Headcanon #Jester's personality #Character Meme

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