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realmsdelght · 10 months

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Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince; Rafe Cameron

Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: your friends hate Rafe, but Miss Americana will always defend her Heartbreak Prince

Warning: language, alcohol, and mention of drugs

Word count: 2,2k

Kildare Island was small, everyone knew everyone, and every person had an opinion about every person on the island.

Rafe Cameron had a reputation. Bad boy, spoiled, unhinged, psycho, every bad adjective in the book was used for him. And yet he was a magnet, not just from girls, but from people in general. But no one ever thought he would find love, people thought he would marry a ‘hot’ gold digger who he would cheat on and take his anger on.

Sunshine, as everyone called the girl, was the light of the island, a kook with a heart of gold. Friends with Sarah Cameron and Kiara Carrera, she loved a good party and drinks, but she still woke up early the next day to volunteer with Kie. She was one of the few people who everyone liked on the island.

So when Sunshine and Rafe Cameron showed up together at Midsummers, his arm around her waist, people were shocked. The day after the event gossip spread like wildfire, everyone was talking about the new couple and wondering how that happened. Even months after dating, most people still couldn't believe Rafe was able to get with someone like that.

“Baby!” The girl’s voice rang through the house.

“Coming!” He sang to her.

The girl turned around when she heard footsteps, waiting for her man. She gave him her best smile as she watched him walk into the room with a bucket of popcorn in his hand. Rafe sat down, placing the popcorn in his girl’s lap.

“Thank you,” she gave him a peck on the lips before turning back to the TV. The couple was not even 30 minutes into their movie when the girl threw the empty bucket to the side and jumped on her boyfriend’s lap.

“Oh wow,” the boy’s hands immediately went to her ass.

“So… I was thinking. Maybe going to a party on a Friday night is not a bad idea,” she said as she tried to read her boyfriend’s reaction.

“My party girl is bored already?” He joked.

She rolled her eyes before giving him another kiss, “I’m not bored, I just wanna dance.”

“Then let's go princess,” he said, getting up and carrying his girl to his room.

They knew what would happen when they decided to go out. Every Time they went out there was something. Both of them got a lot of attention, both good and bad, which often led to arguments and fights. Sunshine’s friends hated Rafe, which they always made known. And the Cameron boy loved trouble, she thrived in fights, and he would get in fights if his girlfriend’s name was mentioned in a conversation. Yet here they were, Rafe sat on the couch watching as Sunshine danced with some of her friends.

“Rafe, man. I didn’t think I would see you here today,” a guy he didn’t know sat down beside him and Kelce.

“I thought you were on a leash,” some other guy joked.

Kelce looked at his friend, hoping he was sober enough to take it as a joke. “None of your fucking business, man,” he made sure it came out rougher than his drunk self meant it, but he didn’t want some random guy talking about his girl.

“Wait, I thought you said you were staying in and watching movies,” Kelce turned to him, ignoring the boys around them.

“Sunshine wanted to dance, so here we are,” he smiled at his friend.

Kelce smiled at the Cameron boy. He would never tell his friend, but he was happy for him, no one had ever seen Rafe Cameron so happy, and he thought it was a nice look on his friend.

Sunshine loved a good movie night, but this party was what she needed at the moment. There was nothing better than to dance with her friends, and hopefully drink until her boyfriend had to carry her home. She was lost in her own world, dancing with Kie behind her, until someone got her out of her zone. “Babes, can you tell your psycho boyfriend to stop staring,” her friend Olivia asked, making her take a deep breath.

Olivia and her friends from highschool were a difficult story. She loved them to death, but they despised Rafe, and they were always on her ass about it, to the point where even Sunshine couldn’t be around them most times.

“Chill, he is just admiring his beautiful girlfriend,” a drunk Kie said.

Olivia scoffed, making Sunshine turn towards her, “he isn't doing anything. He’s just looking at me,” she tried to defuse the situation.

“It’s never anything with him until he’s punching someone in the face,” she rolled her eyes.

“Can we not?” She was over the argument, “I came here to have fun with my friends, not to argue.”

“With that said, let’s go get a drink,” Kie broke the group up, pulling her away. The two walked towards Pope and JJ, who were near the keg.

“Excuse me,” Sunshine took a bottle from Pope’s hand, taking a big swig from it.

“You know,” Kie took a sip from JJ’s cup, “ I never thought I would find someone that hated Rafe more than we do,” she pointed out.

The girl sighed loudly, “I honestly don’t understand. I know Rafe is an asshole, but he hasn’t done everything to them. Honestly, I have never been happier, and I just don’t understand why they can’t be happy for me,” Pope threw his arm around her shoulders to comfort her.

“If it makes you feel better, we hate his guts but we are really happy for you,” JJ smirked at her.

“Thanks, J,” she smiled at him.

Sunshine never hung out with the pogues before, not because she had anything against them, she was even friends with Kie during school, but they just never ran in the same circles. But that changed once Sarah started going out with John B, and Sunshine had to say she was glad. After she started dating Rafe, the pogues were there for her, while her own friends ignored her.

The group decided to ignore any animosities and have fun. They danced, drank, and even played some beer pong, and at some point, even Sunshine’s friends joined them.

Rafe loved seeing his Sunshine like this, so happy he thought she was glowing, and he thought the only way she could look better was with his arms around her.

“I will be back,” he told Kielce, who nodded and handed him another beer.

In Rafe’s mind, there was no one else in the room, just her. His Sunshine lit the whole room, he was attracted to her like a moth to a flame. Kie made a funny face at her, which he knew could only mean one thing. She felt strong arms wrap around her, and she knew. Aside from Kie’s face, those arms, the cologne, everything about that person was familiar.

“Hi babygirl,” he whispered.

“Hi baby,” she melted in his arms.

“You having fun?” He asked.

“We were before you came here,” Kie smiled, giving him the finger. Whether it was more joking than serious, the couple wasn’t sure, but they didn’t care.

“Is this for me?” Sunshine asked when she noticed the two beer cans in her boy’s hand.

“Just this one,” he opened the can and handed it to her, “don’t want you to get more drunk,” he joked.

“Hey!” She turned around to face him, “not drunk, just tipsy,” she winked at him, taking a sip of her beer.

“I know baby,” he gave her a quick kiss.

It was weird for the pogues to see Rafe like this, so happy and calm, but they were sure happy for Sunshine, and also for the rest of the island that didn't have to deal with Rafe’s unhinged wrath.

“Giving her another drink, really?” Someone mumbled behind them, and Sunshine knew exactly who that was.

The girl could feel how tense his arms had gotten around her, but the two of them turned around slowly.

“Don’t start please,” Sunshine pleaded.

“I’m not starting anything. I just don’t think you should be drinking anymore, and it’s not responsible of your boyfriend to be giving you more alcohol,” Olivia said.

Before his girl could say anything Rafe’s fighter spirit got the best of him, “and I think my girl is an adult and can have as many drinks as she wants.”

“Of course you want her drunk,” one of the girls said, causing the people around to gasp.

Sunshine got out of her boyfriend’s arms and walked closer to Olivia and her friends, “don’t you talk about him like that ever again,” she pointed at the girl.

“That’s what I’m talking about, he changed you,” Olivia pointed out.

“No, he hasn’t,” Sunshine drunkenly shouted. Her reaction surprised everyone. No one had ever seen Sunshine raise her voice to anyone, let alone shouting at someone.

“Yes, you have!” She shouted back, “since you started dating him you have barely hung out with us anymore.”

“That’s because all you do is shit on my boyfriend,” Sunshine said.

“Because he doesn’t deserve you!” Olivia screamed, “he is a coke head that likes beating the shit out of people, and uses his daddy’s credit card to buy blow.” It was as if the room stopped, everyone else around them was waiting for the Cameron boy to explode.

Rafe felt the rage boiling from deep inside him, and at that point he was not past punching Olivia. But as much as he hated to admit it, her words hit straight into his insecurities, so differently than what anyone expected, he took a deep breath and walked away, leaving everyone speechless at the party.

When the initial shock was over, Sunshine realized what had just happened and ran towards the door that Rafe had just walked through. Once outside, the girl looked around for her boy, but he was nowhere to be found, it was as if he had just disappeared. She walked closer to where the car was parked, but as soon as she reached the higher level of the street she saw someone’s back, sitting alone in the sand by the house. Sunshine walked towards Rafe, silently sitting down by her boyfriend.

Rafe didn’t bother to look at her and she knew what that meant, “don’t do that.”

“I’m not doing anything,” he shrugged.

“You are doing that face, the face when you get into your own head and start overthinking,” she finally looked at him, but the boy's eyes were still on the ocean.

“She is right,” he looked at her, “Olivia is right. I always thought about it, but I never said it out loud.”

“Baby,” her voice came out shaky, and she reached to hold his hand.

“No, she is right. I’m a trust fund kid who does coke and drinks, and I have no future outside my dad’s company,” he started tearing up.

“Oh Rafey,” she placed her hands on his cheeks, making him look at her. “You remember my boyfriend during senior year, the soccer team captain?”

Rafe was confused as to why she was telling him this, but oh, he did remember that guy, “yeah, that asshole… he used to shit talk us for partying every weekend but he smoked more weed than JJ.”

She giggled, “that one. Everyone always told me how lucky I was, he was a good boy, went to church on holidays, was a mama's boy, all of that. And he was…,” she took a deep breath, “he is a good guy, but after we broke up I realized some things. It didn’t matter how much of a good guy he was, he never really saw me,” Rafe gave her hand a squeeze. “When he went to college I would do anything for him, care packages, I would visit him any time I could but he never put that much effort into it. I know he was busy with classes and all, but he couldn’t even pick up the phone if I called without letting him know beforehand.”

“Asshole,” the Cameron boy muttered.

“All the anxiety I had about intimacy and relationships, I told him about that, I told him about how often I felt like I didn’t deserve him. I knew none of that was his fault or responsibility, but I wanted to feel acknowledged, I wanted him to tell me he would be here for me for whatever I needed. But he just ignored me, hoping I would fix myself on my own.”

“I’m sorry baby,” Rafe said.

“My point is, he was perfect in the conventional way, but Rafe,” she looked into his eyes, “you saw me, all of me, flaws and all. You helped me through my anxieties, and you showed me what love really is. You make me feel so loved, I don’t think you understand how much the little things you do mean to me. You deserve all the love in the world, and you are worthy of it. All of it.”

Rafe placed his hand on her cheeks, getting closer so their noses were touching, “remember what I said to you the first time we kissed?”

“It’s you and me,” she giggled.

“That’s my whole world,” he got even closer, lips almost touching.

“And fuck everyone else and their opinion,” she said.

Rafe laughed, “I guess they were right, you are a bad bad girl now,” he kissed her, “but yeah, fuck those assholes.”

#rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x you #outer banks imagine #drew starkey #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fluff #obx fic

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0rinthered · 2 months

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I am so passionate about Orin, like no it isn't fair she doesn't ever get the chance and Durge doesn't help her or care after the fact. Ironically what Orin did saved everyone and got Durge freedom if they chose it. The fact that all you can really do is insult her or call her stupid besides the "you've been abused and used option" which is a high roll to even convince her is so sad. I don't like mocking her knowing the whole context and why she's doing what she is. It's not a choice really. It feels wrong to me. She's a victim of so much abuse and grooming from all these awful men. I mean Saravok is a creepy ass misogynist who r worded Orin's sister/mom and people mock her about that in way that's really messed up.

The only person who even seems to show a bit of empathy or at least understanding of her is Minthara when she is a big victim of her. Orin punishes people because she's punished by Bhaal, I saw people post the dev notes the tragic context they should have made clear in the game. That she would have even tried to resist Bhaal before and when she did she got killed for it. In a fucked up way Minthara is the closest thing to showing her "love" or at least care, like I know it's not love but just someone like not being horrible to her or looking down on her for existing. She even says they had similar situations and upbringings so you save her that kind of fate. She said she saw herself reflected in Orin broken too. Sad about all the content they didn't give us because I know they said they wanted more Orin/Minthara stuff but I think ti deserved more than a few lines.

Orin's father is literally a child r*pist and apparently has a line where he says he likes her the same way he does her mom? LIKE WTF? and wants her to make babies with durge? I don't know if it is confirmed if he assaulted her or not but he obviously would if he wanted. He shows a lot of hate like he didn't effect what happened if he's mad about what Orin did to Durge. Felt so horrible killing her in the scene after you tell her the truth because she's totally a slave in body then too. It broke my heart. I don't like that they didn't make her background more of the forefront and just let people see her as this crazy one unless you think about her or find tidbits. She felt like a throwaway to me when she's so tragic and she's just mocked and hated by everyone. I hate abused children/women being painted as "crazy psychos" to make fun of. She's severely mentally ill. Ketheric is not a more sympathetic character, he chose to do all he did. Gortash is given more dignity and choice than her. I think Ketheric and his performance are overrated honestly, he just got more screentime and got to be more fleshed out so they say he's better. That's why people go "orin is just an unhinged boring murderhobo" SHE AND AZULA DESERVED SO MUCH BETTER

Yeah it's pretty frustrating - a lot is implied with her but man you really have to look for it, which a lot of people don't bother to do. Orin in my opinion is the most interesting of the three.

I know the general opinion seems to sway to Ketheric, and I really like him, but I think it's pretty ah... shallow? For lack of a better word. Maybe surface level? Like it's very straight forward in my opinion, which doesn't mean it's any less than Orin or Gortash but I think it's easier to absorb if that makes sense?

Whereas with both Orin and Gortash you really need to sniff around, Orin especially. Minthara is the companion she is attached to, as Gortash is Karlach (While it seems like the only connection Ketheric has to the camp is Shadowheart, but that's through Dame Aylin and Isobel strangely enough. Someone correct me if I'm wrong. But he has an entire act to himself so...). But with Minthara, she is so so so easy to miss and thoughtlessly slaughter (ironically enough) so that's a whole bunch of Orin content absolutely nuked off of the bat.

So I suppose the bizarre pacing is to blame for Orin and Gortash kinda farting around, and Orin not being treated fairly compared to how the fandom treats durge. Again, quite "fitting" I guess. Orin doesn't get that privilege of pity and a chance at life whereas Durge gets two chances. The first being actually having a life outside of the temple, and the second being the tadpole. Why? Idk.

I don't even want a redemption for Orin. I think the choice should be there, and I think the choice should be made by her. Only her.

My ideal world would be Orin can escape, stay (what we currently have), or escape in her own little Orin way. To elaborate on that... I think Orin should be able to continue slaughtering people, but I think she should do it for herself. Not for Bhaal, not for the temple. But because SHE wants to. I do however think the ""novelty"" of that for her would vanish pretty quickly once there's no unholy purpose to it, but that's just part of the growth I guess. So she rejects Bhaal, and skitters away into the shadows. She isn't going to have a character arc in like a week and dye her hair white - despite Shadowheart and Orin's similarities - I unfortunately think it'll take a lot lot lot longer and might never happen.

Still, the main point is that she has a choice, something she has been devoid of her entire life. What she chooses to do with that is up to her and that's the beauty of it.

I could go on and on and on about it and how she should actually be given lots of choices but that would just be me rambling even more than I already am LMFAO

Anyway, Orin I love you pookie boobookeys, remember that there's more to life than pleasing someone who never seems to want to please you.

#rambling #I didn't think this through I just typed it as I went along #so dont get mad :)

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rafesmuse · 6 months

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That just wouldn’t work😂 no no no, we NEED, we LIVE for unhinged psycho ass Rafe!!! And yes I agree, it was so random of him to be a little mature too? Like where did that shit come from?😂 100% Rafe is that bitch!!! Sexy ass bitch too

I couldn’t take him seriously either, like who tf was he acting all tough and shit when he was FAR from tough and scary, like why was he even a character?!? Omg hahahah yeah he was like a Disney villain or something, pretty damn cringey to me

I love you soso much baby!!💓 I’m glad to hear you’re doing better now! I’m doing pretty good, just being lazy right now🫢

—🍡

exactly !!!! we need it! true when it came to rafe it felt like a 5 year gap to be honest, so weird. i’m so curious how he’s gonna be next season

LMAO yes his script was so cringy i couldn’t watch it felt too forced as well :/ i hope next season will have the same vibes as the first two

aw baby you’re the sweetest :( i’m so so sorry for my late reply !!!! why were you being lazy angel?

#♡ — love letters.#🍡 anon

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retrogalwrites · 3 years

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Aizawa Shouta x Yandere!fReader

Title: “Kiss me as if you are punching me” / view on ao3

summary: Aizawa is kidnapped by a villain obsessed with him, who hopes to finally make the hero hers.

Warnings: dubcon, coercion, unhealthy relationships, drugging, kidnapping, yandere reader, hate fucking from Aizawa's side, delusions, masochism

Other contents: creampie, orgasm denial, dom/sub dynamic, spanking, rough sex, fingering, masturbation, name calling, a twist because i like twists

Words: 2917

When Aizawa opened his eyes, he was not surprised by the tight rope around his body that kept him viciously tied to a bulky chair. He had been held hostage before, more than once even, it just came with the job, you know?

However, typically, he'd expect some decaying dirty room, some dark, gloomy basement that smelled like shit, just the usual imagery you expect from situations like these.

Instead, his surprise—utter shock if you will—came from the smell of roses and cinnamon that filled his nostrils, the vibrant color red of opulent velvet wallpaper around him and fluffy carpet under his feet of matching color. The room was dimly lit by a varied array of candles carefully placed on expensive-looking furniture, even a fancy bed, it was a very girly and sensual atmosphere that completely crushed his usual expectations of being kidnapped by an enemy. It was one of those rare times that Aizawa felt at loss of words.

"Guess who~?"

Suddenly a saccharine voice, suggestive and obscene, called from behind as a pair of hands playfully covered his eyes. Aizawa froze, of course he knew that voice very well, he groaned at the feeling of round, soft breasts pressing against the back of his head, it gave him annoying goosebumps.

Of course he recognized that voice, even the feeling of your body. For months you had roamed the streets committing mostly petty crime with the sole purpose of getting the hero Eraserhead to chase after you, like some obsessed psycho. Like a little pest, you'd pop up to cause trouble while he was on his nightly rounds without fail, always dolled up, flaunting your assets like a harlot and provoking him shamelessly. Always boldly declaring your insane love for him before managing to slip away into the shadows...

It was such a bizarre case that other heroes had started to tease him about it, laughing about the femme fatale villain that had a crush on him. He despised it, your existence did nothing but to bring yet another thing for him to be tired and annoyed about.

At least, you were a low tier threat, basically harmless really, or so he thought. Being kidnapped by you was the last thing he had expected, and that only annoyed him more, the thought that he had underestimated the situation and how unhinged you really had been.

Aizawa uttered your name under his breath like a cursed word, and you giggled delighted against his ear.

"Yes, it's me~! As expected from my darling."

"Don't call me that." He refuted your pet-names as always, mustering his most stern voice to mask the fact he was still trying to process his own shortcomings that had lead him there. "What the hell is this?"

Removing your hands from his eyes, you remained behind him, placing them instead on his broad shoulders, reminding him of the lack of his scarf-his only offensive weapon- on them.

"Well, what does it look like? I abducted you, silly." You hummed amused, tone far too casual for his liking. But with your fingers digging into the muscle, massaging his soreness, he almost gave in and sighed in relief. "You've been playing so hard to get all this time, and trust me I do love the chase but...I just can't bear with it anymore."

"Then leave me alone." He managed to say instead, as he struggled on his seat, testing the tightness of the binding around him.

"No, can't do." You replied, fingers digging into his shoulders with a more vicious grip that made him wince. "How many times do I have to repeat myself? I love you so much, I need you so bad, I may just die."

"Then die." With a deep, angry tone, he growled. " I don't have time for none of this bullshit."

Of course, you only gushed excitedly, throwing your arms around his neck and embracing him from behind so lovingly, he could feel the heat of your body. "Oh baby, I love it when you are mean!"

"You're delusional." He said.

"Well, yes." You replied. "But I'm still going to get what I want."

As you pulled back, Aizawa felt the sharp tip of a blade pressed against the back of his neck, threatening to cut through if he didn't stay put. He broke into cold sweat.

"Open your mouth."

"..."

"Open your mouth or I'll cut your head off, I really don't want to do that, dear."

You had never threatened him like that before, he hesitated for a second before spitting back, expertly to not let his tumultuous feelings show.

"I'll bite your hand off."

"You know, I wouldn't mind if you did that." You giggled again. Aizawa sighed deeply, feeling powerless against what was someone who clearly couldn't be reasoned with.

You took advantage of that to bring your fingers to his mouth, slipping inside two white pills before forcing his jaw shut with your hand so he'd have to swallow them. Aizawa tried to spit them out, but you weren't having none of it, in the end he had to swallow the dissolving drug into his system.

"What the hell...did you give me?!"

He demanded as soon as you let go of him, drool dribbling down his scruffy chin.

"Relax, it will make you feel good. I would never poison you, baby."

But it was a little too hard to believe you, of course. His silence said as much.

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you...it's an aphrodisiac."

It was like you had actually stabbed him with that knife, the severity of your words weighing on him, an understanding of what you were planning to do with him filling the hero with dread that was almost as big as his self-hatred for having stupidly refused to take you as a bigger threat sooner.

With a soft, feminine laugh, twirling gracefully, you quickly moved around to stand in front of him.

Finally getting to properly look at you, Aizawa jaw almost dropped.

Dressed in a black nightie babydoll, all lace and ribbons, showing off the perfect curves of your body, supple skin of your breasts and nipples behind see-through fabric. The edges fluttered delicately just above your upper thighs, giving him full view of the crotchless panties you wore, your slit shamelessly displayed for him to see.

His body felt as though it was on fire, eyes glued to the glistening wetness already smeared over the pink skin of your folds, even more stickiness clinging to the skin of your inner thighs showing just how fucking wet you had to be.

It was work of the aphrodisiac, he realized, how his heart began racing madly in his chest with pumping blood, a dryness in his mouth and a heat in his abdomen that was making it hard to breath properly.

Aizawa's entire willpower worked harder it ever had just to try to look uninterested at the lewd sight of you. "Well, it sure is a shame you went through all this trouble for nothing."

You pouted at his comment almost childishly, something that gave him a sense of satisfaction despite his situation still being far from improving. But Aizawa had to remain calm, because knowing his colleagues, they would be out to look for him soon enough, all he had to do was to endure ...to endure...to endure what exactly? He still wasn't completely sure, and yet that only made him shiver with unwanted thrill.

"So you say, but you seem to be a little excited already."

Drawling your words, your eyes fixated on his crotch. He looked down as well and cringed, a bulge straining against the fabric of his pants, his cock swelling up simply by looking at your own depraved arousal. He reminded himself it wasn't his fault, it was the drug, he still could fight off the effects.

"You are pathetic, forcing yourself on someone like this." He said with a groan, because his hardening cock was starting to feel uncomfortably tight inside his pants. You rolled your eyes, and laughed.

"Oh no, I'm not going to do that."

Your answer, simple and honest, took him by surprise that Aizawa couldn't conceal.

"I'll simply stand here and enjoy myself, give you a little show. I won't touch you unless you ask me to, my darling."

Before he could respond, you were soon taking one step back from him. Standing on a pair of impractical high heels and stockings, Aizawa watched as you began to sway your hips side to side with hypnotic rhythm, the fluttering edges of the lacy babydoll bringing attention to the ripe shape of your plump thighs, he could even imagine grabbing them with his large hands...fuck, dealing with you would've been far easier from the very start if you weren't so infuriatingly gorgeous.

Aizawa groaned, lips tightly shut, refusing to give you any sort of satisfaction from this.

But as if you could read his mind, you turned around playfully to give him a full view of your backside. The roundness of your fat ass, perfect to grab and force against his aching cock and rut against until he was shooting his seed all over your asscheeks, fuck...his dirty thoughts kept pulling up.

Aizawa's throbbing erection twitched with need, and he tried to rub his thighs together for just a little bit of friction. You didn't notice it in that exact moment, because you were too busy leaning forward to show off your pussy at his hungry gaze, your fingers moving to the crotchless area of your panties to spread your folds with your fingers, giving him a perfect view of your pussy's tight hole.

Even with his dry eyes, he was having a hard time blinking, unable to part away from that obscene view. Your needy little hole so wet for him right there in full display, only a whore would have such little shame and modesty, a crazy whore like you.

Aizawa didn't realize his lip had started to bleed slightly from bitting it too hard.

"God, knowing you are looking at me makes me so excited, baby." You moaned softly, voice full of adoration, looking at him over your shoulder. "Like a dream come true."

Aizawa turned his head away just to try spite you, using his messy long hair to shield his vision, an attempt to dominate this bizarre game of yours, but uncaring to his resistance, you simply continued enjoying yourself for him to witness. Slowly, you slid one finger into your dripping cunt, your legs trembling as you moaned Aizawa's name outloud.

The fire in his blood was reaching a fever pitch, the sound so obscene of his name on your tongue, accompanied to the squelching noises of your finger pumping in and out your tight walls quickly had him looking back at your depraved little show.

As soon as you felt his gaze back on you, another finger was inserted, making yourself mewl dramatically with your back arching like a cat's, then a third finger testing the stretch of your hole around them. You were taking them so well, his breath hitched. Watching how you were fucking yourself like that ignited that primal urge in him to tackle you to the floor and replace those fingers with the thickness of his cock...

"Oh, Shouta...aahhh I love you so much...!!" You started mumbling, like begging, and it made him pitifully buck his hips into the air before he could stop himself.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Aizawa was losing his mind with the drugs maximizing his lust. His cock was so swollen and hard that it was painful, his balls begging to be emptied, just any sort of relief.

Another loud, slutty moan from you that turned into a cry, as your wobbly legs gave out and you slid onto the floor slowly, still fingering yourself you switched positions. Facing him with your legs spread as you sat on the floor, you continued fingering yourself. Now your free hand massaging your own breast, punching the nipple over the fabric of the top.

"I'm so close...ahh...." you panted, looking directly at him, your little pink tongue poking out your gaping mouth. "I'll let you go once I cum, promise."

That was what broke his control, the power of the aphrodisiac too strong to fight. In that moment Aizawa knew he had lost his sense of reason. He struggled violently against the binding rope, a gutural growl erupting from deep in his chest.

"Don't you dare finishing without my permission, you damn bitch."

The commanding tone, the brutality of his voice, you froze in place as you stared at him with wide eyes. He spoke again, glaring at you with unfiltered lust and anger he hadn't felt before. "Untie me now, I'm going to fuck you. That's what you want isn't it? Then bring your pussy over here."

The look on your face was of absolute delight, almost childish in excitement. Before he knew it, you had severed the ropes tying him to the chair with the knife you had kept tucked by the elastic of your stocking.

The sequence that followed happened so fast he barely registered it, when he roughly grabbed you by the arms with his freed hands, forcing you to drop the knife as he pushed you down onto the floor. Crawling on top, Aizawa crashed his mouth against yours, lips violently molding against yours in a desperate, almost animilastic imitation of a kiss, sloppily inserting his tongue into your eager mouth, and you returned the gesture in kind. By the time he realized what had happened, he was already rutting his erection against the gash of your pussy, groaning and whining at the delicious friction.

Breaking the kiss, leaving you with bruised lips, he plopped himself onto his knees and started unbuckling his pants, pulling out his cock that was red and raw, drooling precum like it was about to burst.

"Don't get it wrong, this is only because of your damn aphrodisiac..." He hissed above you, boring his smoldering gaze into yours, stroking his member in one hand.

Then, to his still surprise, you blurted out a hearty laugh. Deviously looking at him like the cat who got the cream.

"Oh, baby...that wasn't an aphrodisiac. It was just regular aspirin."

You admitted so honestly, and Aizawa couldn't do more than stare at you completely dumbstruck for a second. But only a second.

Immediately, you helped loudly as Aizawa unceremoniously turned you over, pulling your hips up so your perky ass was up in the air, and impaled you with his thick, hard cock in one brutal thrust. You cried again, face forced flush against the carpet floor by Aizawa's hand. His hips ruthlessly starting a furious peace, drilling himself into your tight walls without mercy.

"You...damn bitch...are you trying to make a fool of me?!"

Aizawa panted, hissing each syllable with every thrust, his heavy balls slapping against your pussy mound over and over, the dry sound mixing with the wet squelching of your sex being abused.

"Apologize. Apologize for all the trouble you've caused me."

His other hand came down on your ass so hard, the stinging pain making you scream, leaving an raw imprint of his palm on your skin. And he hit you again, and again, as he fucked you relenthlessly.

"Yessss....I'm sorrryyy!!! I'm sorrryyy!!"

You moaned and cried, pain and pleasure too much to bear, words barely making sense. Tears streamed down your cheeks and yet the expression on your face couldn't be anything but pure happiness and adoration for Aizawa. "I love you so much darlin'...aaahh!!! I couldn't help myself!!"

You were so tight and snug inside, your slippery walks tightly squeezing his cock like you didn't want to ever let go of it, he could barely keep himself from cumming too soon with how fucking good you felt.

"You don't deserve to cum." He pushed himself against your back, her larger muscular frame easily pressing your entire body against the floor as he kept fucking you.

"Say it!"

"I...don't deserve to cum!!"

"I'm going to pump you full of my seed and you are going to be grateful for even that."

"Yesssss....!!!!"

Aizawa was soon shooting a heavy load into you, all that accumulated lust from all your teasing, all your annoying chase, all the undying love you proclaimed for him and he had no idea what to do with. He responded to your feelings the only way he knew how, and thick jets of white cum shoot into your womb, painting your walls with his semen until his balls stopped throbbing.

You were full of his cum, a babbling mess looking like you had seen heaven.

Aizawa wasn't sure himself, if he was in heaven or hell.

————

"Hey! Just got a call from the police, guess which wacky villainess is causing trouble downtown today?" The voice of Mic rang into the teacher lounge, peaking his head through he door.

"I don't want to guess." Aizawa muttered softly, quickly getting up on his feet and adjusting his googles, ready to head out. "I'll take care of it."

"Why, Shouta! If I didn't know better, I'd think ya rush to go see her quite a lot these days." A teasing smile, Mic tilted his head curiously. "Did something happen between you two?"

A pause, and the hero turned around to leave.

"Don't be ridiculous."

#aizawa thirst #aizawa x reader #tw dubcon #tw kidnapping #tw drugging #tw yandere

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filthweb · 3 years

Note

Oh, please don't feel obligated to write with anything I send! I'm just shy and very horny and really like your writing👉🖤👈

Speaking of acting up first thing in the morning, unfortunately for my pussy I have discovered Villain!Midoriya(Not the constantly unhinged psycho, but the suave genius that is lazy cocky when he really does snap and goes sadistic)...now it's all: senpai comes to 'save' him from the villain life but instead gets seduced and turns into his cumslut...

Like, you go down to the basement because you're needy and he's taking to long. You find him in his suit covered in blood and looking bored. The poor sod he's torturing is barely conscious...

Anyways, you're smeared with blood from before Midoriya took his torture gloves off. He's fucking you relentlessly in front of the half dead but now wide eyed man tied to the chair. His words are degrading but he knows you love it and can feel how sopping wet you are from having him inside you with someone watching you get absolutely fucking destroyed. Puts you on display. Uses his tie as a leash....

Also, if Todoroki made a cockring dildo out of ice, would he stick it in your cunt while he fucks your ass, or in your ass while he fucks your pussy?

Another also, I always see Dom!Sadistic!Dabi but what about HumiliationKink!Dabi?

'Ungh...yeah~. Step on my dick/balls.'

'Choke me...'

'Please, punish me baby'

'I don't deserve you'

Make him stay quiet or be punished. 'Awe~ you're such a greedy little bitch aren't you? Do you want everyone to hear you? How good I fuck you'

Dabi, knees spread with a bar, cock and ball restrictions, choker chain leash - going absolutely feral with his mouth on your pussy while he whimpers for you to touch him,

'Keep it up and I'll call everyone in here so they can see that pretty buttplug I got you on full display. You'd like that wouldn't you? For them to see you lapping me up like your life depends on it. Your cock twitching, begging to be touched... Well? Answer me'

He moans 'yes'

'What was that?'

'Yes!'

'Yes what you pathetic slut?'

'Yes Mistress!'

'Hmm~~good boy'

Anyways...Good morning!

-SCS💋

Hie baby. Sorry for late reply, I was asleep. Good morning. AND OH MY

IZUKU MAKING A LEASH OUT OF HIS TIE🥵🤤🥵🤤🥵🤤🥵🥵🤤

SHOTO MAKING A DILDO OUT OF ICE😳😳

DABI WANTING ME TO STEP ON HIS BALLS???? OMG SHAWTY LIKES IT FREAKYY.

OMG OMG. TBIS IS THE FIRST THING I READ AND OH DAMN THIS IS SO GOOD. ARIGATOU KAMISAMA.

AND NO BABY. I WRITE THINGS I WANT TO. I LIKED THE IDEA SO THAT IS WHY I SAID THAT. ☺ I LOVE YOUUUUU🥺

#boop🐣#bnha x reader #shoto x reader #shoto smut #dabi x reader #bnha smut #dabi smut #bnha scenarios #bnha imagines #todoroki x reader #todoroki smut

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always5hineee · 4 years

Text

The Final Bell - Chapter 3: Baby Doll

Chapter warnings: none

Word count: 1840

Story is also available under Taffysamg on Quotev and Wattpad.

To see the full chapter list, go to the “Final Bell” Tab on my page.

-----

Y/N stared out the window, unsettled by what she saw. Everything was dry and windy, and the air was heavy. While she knew pollution must be down, everything had that solid tension about it. Taeyong and Taeil were making small talk, but she wasn't particularly listening. Every now and then, they'd pass an abandoned vehicle or a pile of trash, but aside from that she noticed no signs of life. While she was lost in thought, she was brought to attention by a voice.

"...Y/N!" She sat up quickly, looking around. Taeyong was staring at her intently.

"Sorry, I was... thinking."

"It's fine- I was just trying to let you know that we're here." He said, pointing towards the windshield. Sure enough, there was a small campsite in front of them as they slowed to a stop. There were two tents, a few boxes, a small grill, and a black Toyota Tundra. She was nervous to meet this character, but didn't want to show it in front of her two associates. Stepping out of the van, they walked into the center of the space.

"Hold on." Taeil said to her, moving to the tent on the right. Stomping in the dirt next to the structure, he said, "Johnny! We're here." After a bit of rustling, the front unzipped, and a man stepped out.

He was certainly taller than anyone she had met so far- six feet if she had to guess. He had defined features and faded red hair, although- like Taeil- it was evidently not his real hair color. He was definitely thin, but stronger than Taeyong and Taeil. He wore a pair of old jeans, a green shirt, and a leather vest, with combat boots to match. Out of all of this, though, one thing in particular caught her off guard.

His left arm- or rather, where his left arm should have been- there was a purple, twitching appendage, sewed on with black surgical stitches. While it's nails were clean and the flesh seemed to be staying on fairly well, it was unmistakable: a zombie arm.

She involuntarily stepped back, but before she could move away, he grabbed her wrists, holding her arms above her head and turning her in various directions.

"Hmm, interesting." He eyed her up and down, mentally measuring her. "I'm sure I can find something that fits you." Uncomfortable, she jerked her arms, ripping them away from his grip. He looked surprised for a moment, before his face settled into a questioning grin.

"What's the matter? Can't you talk?" She tried to say something in return, but only managed to open her mouth slightly. Staring at her for another moment, his expression shifted to understanding.

"Ah, I see. You think I'm turning." He waved his purple arm. "I assure you, sweetheart, you have nothing to worry about." Pointing to the stitching with his good hand, he said, "This isn't my real arm. I made her myself. The wound is closed underneath, so quit your shaking." Well if that wasn't the riskiest thing she'd ever seen, she didn't know what was.

"What happened to your real arm?" She managed to mutter. He laughed, reaching up to touch her face with his left hand. The skin was disgustingly cold, leaving a tingling feeling wherever it touched. She knew it was probably in her head, but she already felt infected as he felt her face.

"I cut it off." He whispered playfully. Backing up and spinning on his heel, he pretended as if he had not just been incredibly creepy. "Keeps you on your toes, you know? Reminds you how fleeting this all is. It does have a mind of its own, though." He admitted, evidenced by its twitching. She was more than uncomfortable at this point, staring at the seam between his human and undead bodies. So he had... cut off his own arm, and sewed on this zombie one, for fun? Or as he called it, a 'reminder'. This dude was unhinged.

"Quit messing around, Johnny." Taeyong said, stepping in and pulling her back. Thankfully, his hands were warm, and undoubtedly human. "We just need new clothes for her, all our stuff at camp doesn't fit well."

"Yes, yes, I know. Like I said, I'm sure I have a few things her size. So demanding. You won't be leader for long if you act like that."

"I'm not the leader." Taeyong muttered under his breath, crossing his arms and shifting his glare."

"Sure. Anyway, I'll return momentarily. Feel free to look around." He offered, turning to Y/N. "You can go wherever, but just be prepared for what you find." With a wink that sent a shiver up her spine, he moved towards the back of the setup to open a box.

"Don't mind him." Taeil said, sensing her discomfort. "He's just strange like that. Plus, he's probably upset that we didn't bring Mark." She had practically forgotten about Mark at this point- she hadn't seen him since they exited the van the first time. Assumedly, he had gone to his own tent.

"Why would he care?" She asked. "Are they related, or friends, or something?" Taeil shook his head.

"Not exactly. Mark's just his favorite for some reason. He's never explained it to us. Still, Taeyong doesn't like them to be together for too long. I think he's worried that Johnny will make too much of an impression." That made sense. Mark seemed like a nice dude, and she couldn't imagine what Johnny could do if he got a complete hold on him. Before Taeyong could cut in to explain further, Johnny returned.

"Here, I found four complete outfits of your size. It's not exactly ideal, but it's all that'll fit. I guess you guys will just start doing laundry more often, or suffer with ill-fitting attire. There are also two pairs of shoes, some makeup if you're into that, and some sanitary stuff." Holding out a bag, she reluctantly took it. As much as she hated it, it was all stuff she needed. "I also threw a few sets of earrings in there. Wouldn't want your piercings to close up."

She breathed in sharply. In the few seconds that he had looked at her, he not only assessed her exact sizes, but the fact that she had piercings as well? Not only that, but she didn't actually have jewelry in at the moment, meaning that he had noticed the tiny holes. He was unnervingly observant, to say the least.

"Do you need any earrings, boys? You've both had those studs in for quite a while."

"We're fine." Taeil said shortly. Johnny sighed, almost like an annoyed child.

"Shame. You two are so boring. Still, that reminds me-" He addressed Y/N directly again. "I can do pretty much any tattoo or piercing you might want, just let me know." Scrunching her gaze, she questioned,

"Can you do a clean tattoo without proper equipment?" Johnny feigned offense.

"My, do you have no faith? I happen to have done plenty of tattoos post-disaster. In fact, I've done more than a few for your friends over there. Speaking of which-" he walked over to drape his arms across the boys' shoulders. "Is she planning on matching you all?"

"Matching?" She asked. Clearly without asking them first, Johnny grabbed both their shirts. Pulling up Taeyong's sleeve and the bottom hem of Taeil's shirt, he revealed very similar tattoos. Each was in a delicate script, a list of some kind. Looking closer, she read them.

Taeyong

Jaehyun

Yuta

WinWin

Haechan

Mark

Doyoung

Taeil

Jungwoo

Johnny

The final two names were slightly brighter, alluding to the fact that they had been added later. The line through WinWin's name was also a bright shade.

"Do all of you have these?" She asked, eliciting a nod from both of them.

"We debated on the line, but decided that it would be appropriate. We'll be using it if, god forbid, anything happens to anyone else. Johnny added himself when we went to get Jungwoo added." Taeyong shot an annoyed look at him. "Still, he helps us out, so I have no right to complain."

"So, will you be adding this lovely lady to your ranks?" Johnny asked, dropping their clothing from his fists.

"I'd have to talk to everyone, but maybe if she sticks around." He glanced over. "Have you gotten a tattoo since all this started?" He asked. She shook her head. She was already dreading the idea of having Johnny's dead hand anywhere near her, not to mention a discomfort around needles. She would definitely have to think about it.

"Well, I'm always ready to ink someone up." He concluded, gesturing to Taeil again. "I've done more than a few of his little art pieces." She had to admit, the tattoos covering his body were very skillful. Everything fell silent for a moment, but she was brought to attention by the clap of a hand.

"So! To discuss my payment." Johnny smiled, causing her stomach to drop.

"Payment?" Of course. No one gives anyone anything for free. What kind of payment did a psycho like this take?

"Yes, honey, payment. I have to survive out here! Generally one earns something through the exchange of goods-" He snaked a hand around her waist, causing her to shiver again. "And/or services."

"You owe us, Johnny." Taeyong said matter-of-factly, gently brushing him off and dragging Y/N back to where he was standing. "We saved your ass when you were clean out of food and three seconds off from getting eaten alive." He put a hand to his chin thoughtfully.

"Oh, so you're cashing in for the little lady? He must really like you." He said with a shrug. "That's a shame, baby doll, but you'll be back. I look forward to it- you're intriguing." Leading her away from Johnny's camp, Taeil and Taeyong brought her to the van, facing away from the man. Still, he called,

"Nice meeting you, sweetheart!"

"Her name is Y/N." Taeyong shot back. "Have some decency." And with that, they got in and began their drive back home. She watched out the back window as Johnny simply stood, staring as they drove into the distance. He stood stone still until Y/N could no longer make out his figure.

"I'm sorry if that was strange." Taeyong murmured apologetically. "I know he's not... ideal. Still, he generally has anything we might need, and honestly I don't know if we'd have made it without him. I would have talked to him myself, but he needed your size." She shook her head, trying to seem unfazed.

"It's fine."

"You'll only have to go again if you need a tattoo or something, other than that you can stay behind if you'd like." She nodded. She didn't really feel like talking anymore, and both the boys respected that. They had maybe an hour left on their three hour prognosis, so things would be busy when they returned. She wondered if she could find some monotonous task to help with to take her mind off the afternoon's events.

Go to Chapter 4

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silverleafnightshade-blog · 5 years

Text

The Eyes of Laura Mars

Released in 1978, The Eyes of Laura Mars is set in the glimmering yet gritty world of NYC haute couture fashion. Mad Magazine parodied the film as “The Eyes of Lurid Mess” and rightly so, for it definitely has plot issues and some grade-A-Virginia-ham overacting. However, director Irvin Kershner managed to capture a whiff of the cultural crossover as the NYC scene shifted from disco to punk. Often touted as the first American giallo film, The Eyes of Laura Mars tidily ticks off the boxes of the Italian genre: a mix of gorgeous and grimy settings, the gruesome murder of beautiful people, and many misdirections before the killer is finally revealed. Added to the mix is Ms. Virginia Ham herself (Faye Dunaway), a hairy Brad Dourif, and a preternaturally prehistoric Tommy Lee Jones. Dourif is only four years younger than TLJ in real life, but he looks like a bearded baby next to TLJ’s tire-treaded brow. Hell, TLJ is six years younger than Dunaway, but there’s not even a scratch of the cougar in their relationship.

Faye Dunaway of course plays the main character, a superstar high fashion photographer who begins to have disturbing visions of murder. Fun fact: the actual images of famous fashion photogs Rebecca Blake and the so-called “King of Kink” Helmut Newton were used in the film.

Speaking of kink, Barbra Streisand was offered the main role (it helped that she was dating producer Jon Peters at the time) but turned it down because she thought the film’s violent, sexual content was too out-there for her image.

The film opens with a murderous sequence, which turns out to be one of Laura’s nightmares. She awakens in her rather spare and severe bedroom,

and then wanders out to her living room, aka The Neutral Zone. Beige and brown rule the day, as does that giant rooster sculpture. From kitchen kitsch to highbrow decor? Huh. And oof, so. Much. Carpeting!

Laura flips through some negatives and tries to put the nightmare behind her. Soon, driver Tommy (Brad Dourif) is ferrying Laura off to the gala reception for a new publication of her photos. It looks like maybe the exterior was shot at one of the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s side doors. The interior looks somewhat Studio 54-inspired, though.

Hiiiiiiyyyyyeeee! I’m just a photograph, don’tcha worry.

Laura meets cute-ish with Detective John Neville (TLJ), as cute as can be when one’s publisher has been horribly murdered with an ice pick. Neville came for the questioning, but he stayed for the hors d’oeuvres, or rather, he looks a bit hungry for a Mars Bar. Laura goes home and rings up her bestie, who happens to be dating Laura’s ex-husband Michael (a very slimy yet somehow sexy Raul Julia). Everyone calms each other down, and soon enough, Laura heads off for a shoot at Columbus Circle. The concept is a bit S&M, models in lingerie and furs fighting in front of the husks of burning cars...

The concept was inspired by photog Chris von Wangenheim, and so fitting in front of what my father once called “The Devil’s Arsehole” (don’t feel special, C.C., he said that about every Washington D.C. roundabout too). The intersection didn’t get the moniker until 1892, the 400th anniversary of Columbus’s “discovery” of the New World, when a giant statue of the old man was erected. From the invention of the car on, Columbus Circle was considered a hazardous spot for pedestrians. Given the circle’s bad rap for most of the 20th century, it seems quaint to remember that Olmsted intentionally designed the traffic circle as the grand entrance to Central Park in 1857. By 1978, Columbus Circle was “roundly” (oh ho ho) derided as a dangerous thoroughfare. In 1979, architecture critic Paul Goldberger said that the intersection was "a chaotic jumble of streets that can be crossed in about 50 different ways—all of them wrong." A redesign of the circle’s aesthetics and traffic flow began in 1991, and by the Naughty-Aughties, Columbus Circle had even won a few awards for landscape architecture and urban design.

Neville shows up again at Laura’s set at Chelsea Piers. This is my favorite set in the movie, with the fabulous Sterling St. Jacques dancing around and a lot of blown-out color and drama going on.

It’s also one of our last scenes with poor Lulu and Michelle, alas. I actually quite like both of their characters, so silly and yet so sassy. They have the best outgoing answering machine message, and it made me feel so nostalgic for both answering machines, answering machine messages, and that kind of close relationship you’d have with a roommate. That is the kind of relationship that can only be built after hearing all your messages, and knowing all your secrets, unvarnished and unedited by a brunch re-telling. Sigh.

Laura’s studio is amazing - it’s enormous with tons of old windows, stunning harbor views, and some convenient soft spots that are perfect for sexy times with Neville.

Donald (René motherfucking Murat Auberjonois) is such a great character. He’s Laura’s long-suffering agent, and although at times walking the stereotypical line, he is quite comfortably un-closeted. Whenever someone tries to throw homophobic shade his way, he shines a light right up their asses. I do not love the character’s decor choices, though - a bit too Italianate for me, although who can resist a red damask wallpaper and this goddamn face? Not me, friends.

Speaking of Italian classics, Frank Adonis makes an appearance as Sal, Neville’s slightly unhinged partner. I like this shot of him surveying Laura’s apartment with a “mmm, not bad,” expression.

Frank just shuffled off this mortal coil in late 2018, R.I.P. Weird fact: although he’s the Italian guy you recognize from everything, his Wiki page is in French.

SPOILERS, sort of: Neville goes to see Tommy at his spectacularly depressing apartment, and the visit quickly takes a turn for the worse. Tommy stabs a patrolman while escaping arrest, but the Sal the psycho just opens fire on what appears to be the entire East Village, and Tommy est la morte. Neville rings up Laura to tell her the killer has been caught, and pack your bag, baybeee, they are going away! Laura begins to select some careful neutrals to coordinate with the lady Derringer gifted by Neville, when she is suddenly struck by another vision.

Poor Michael gets ‘picked in the elevator of Laura’s building, and the killer is en route to her apartment! Laura manages to lock the front door just in time. Neville soon comes crashing through the balcony window, and this is where the ending gets super giallo: as he begins babbling about Tommy’s terrible upbringing, Neville accidentally reveals that it is he, Neville, who is the killer. But it’s not really Neville! No, it’s his other personality that did the killing. That personality is also apparently responsible for how nicely Neville fills out a black turtleneck, as well as for finishing Neville’s dissertation and keeping the bills paid. The real Neville struggles back to the surface; to protect his true love, he basically shoots himself using Laura’s gun (and trigger finger, as she is holding said gun at the time). The final shot is of Laura calling the cops, and her final line? “I’m Laura Mars.” If there is any shred of happy ending to this story, it might be that she has to rip out that fucking bloodstained carpet. Maybe there’s a nice parquet floor under there? I know that hating on carpeting is low-pile fruit, but there is just no way for mere mortals to keep wall-to-wall carpeting from getting disgusting.

Interesting fact: John Carpenter wrote the spec script for this film, but Kershner’s finished product took some hot turns in the rewrite. Carpenter was still credited despite his protests, but luckily the mixed reviews didn’t affect the success of his next project, Halloween. It’s been nice to revisit some giallo, although I think I’m going to go back to the real-deal Italian giallo next month. I might also be leaving this platform, as sad as that makes me. Tumblr has been doing some bullshit flagging of posts that are very LGBTQ-unfriendly, and well, they are also buggy as hell. I had this post written a week ago but the site kept crashing as I was trying to update. At any rate, stay tuned for any updates, or as I likely know all three of you reading this, I’ll let you know if there’s a new site.

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theghooligan · 5 months

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mikey: go ahead, shoot izana, if that will satisfy you—

izana:

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leftlovetragedy · 6 years

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Why BBC Sherlock was ruined by bad writing - Part 1

This post is a part of a long summary of some of the problems with BBC Sherlock which in my opinion ultimately caused the show damage which seems practically irreparable now. One of the related problems actually is that it seems Moffat and Gatiss didn’t get why S4 was met with disdain by fanbase, why reviewers picked it apart, why ratings dropped. It means they don’t want to learn from their mistakes or simply can’t. In fact Gatiss outright refused to believe ratings dropped and that does speak about very huge denial as ratings are facts, not opinions. Both Moffat and Gatiss also suddenly lost enthusiasm about ACD, Sherlock Holmes, although they were gushing about it just not so long ago.

But let’s get back to the problems of the writing I wanted to talk about:

1) The problem with Moriarty

Looking back at first two seasons after clusterfuck of S4, sadly, I could now notice some problems which were already planted in earlier seasons. While S1-2 were the best out of the show some decisions which were made by the writers indicated their true approach to the material even back then. But these problems would only grow like a snow ball and in the end would contribute to the undoing of the show in many ways. Mofftiss were overusing Moriarty from the start. In ACD’s canon he appears in one story (and is mentioned several times) like the nemesis to take down Sherlock once and for all. Since it’s TV series it was perfectly understandable and fair to expand the role of Moriarty, however it was way overexpanded. Moriarty was connected with the cabby, was behind Chinese mafia, then arranged the whole Great Game with Sherlock and then meeting with him in person took place-all in the scope of all 3 episodes of S1. Had the S1 been longer perhaps it wouldn’t have looked so jam-packed with Moriarty and would have been more subtle, but since the S1 is only 3 episodes long it did. S1 also told us that Moriarty killed the school boy, the only case which young Sherlock was not able to solve then, thus setting up Moriarty as this ultimate enemy of Sherlock literally for decades. Then in Ep1S2 we find out that Irene Adler was also working for Moriarty and that he consulted her. Ep2S2 has Sherlock having hallucinations about Moriarty and Ep3S3 have the grand finale where Moriarty tries to destroy Sherlock and kills himself on the roof, and then Sherlock jumps from the roof, faking his suicide.

Honestly by the end of S2 Moriarty was made by the Mofftiss as this be-all and the end-all guy and that already looked over the top. But it still could have been ok, if the Mofftiss could stop there with Moriarty. And that’s exactly what they couldn’t do. They didn’t know how to stop and so they ran this character into the ground. S3 teased us if Moriarty really died or not, with “shocking cliffhanger” final, adding more hallucinations and flashbacks and fake flashbacks with Jim along the way. But the result was that by the end of S3 Moriarty no longer looked liked some threatening dangerous villain, but rather as a self-caricature. S3 also told us that Moriarty had in fact a death wish and that he would have killed himself anyway, making his whole suicide on the roof pretty weak. Instead of some diabolically clever villain with diabolically bold clever calculated plan, we got the guy who just was crazy and wanted to off himself. Big whoop. It got only worse when TAB special was literally dedicated to Sherlock trying to understand that Moriarty, who shot himself standing right in front of Sherlock in broad daylight, was actually really dead. No shit, Sherlock. Moriarty was again present in Sherlock’s Mind Palace, grimacing all the way, which probably was supposed to look cool and edgy, but didn’t, and looked like a tired rehash. Then S4 finally completely killed any coolness or sense which Moriarty still had in the show (and there wasn’t much left by the time). S4 told us how Moriarty met with secret super powerful sister Eurus, spent 5 minutes talking with her or smh and even teamed with her, recording some dumb edgy videos for Eurus, which she used when Moriarty himself was already dead. Since Eurus is capable to hypnotize people after talking with them the question was left open if Moriarty was really compromised by Eurus and was just her puppet since then. Either way Moriarty was pretty much destroyed as interesting and effective villain in the show, because a) he either was hypnotized by Eurus, made into her puppet and lost any personal agenda or free will since then; or b) he wasn’t hypnotized by Eurus, remained himself but was just really unhinged, mad dude, whose unpredictability didn’t seem like a result of his great intellect or scheming or an act, but rather a result of him being a psycho, who wanted badly to kill himself, also hoping that Sherlock would ~ probably~ kill himself as well—and if Sherlock doesn’t kill himself, hey, no biggie, he got those great choo-choo videos for Eurus which she could use against Sherlock, though Moriarty wouldn’t be able to see this anyway, because he will be dead by then. But surely choo-choo videos will work! Surely the world's only consulting criminal could always count on choo-choo videos! Great plan! 2) The problem with women

I already talked once about how Mofftiss treat female characters on the shows and the short answer is: they treat them pretty awful as they pretend to write “strong female characters” while basically doing “Feminism for Dummies: The Male Edition”.

According to Mofftiss strong female characters mean mostly villainous, dubious, criminal, weaponized psychopaths.

---Irene Adler – twisted rewritten version of ACD’s Irene Adler, here villainized cruel sex worker and blackmailer, who is told what to do by male villain, because she can’t figure it out on her own, loses to Sherlock because she fell for him and later is saved by him. Moffat literally described Irene as psychopath, in fact he describes Sherlock as one as well, saying: ”He's a psychopath, so is she”.

Moffat also considers ACD’s Irene boring, saying: “In the original, Irene Adler's victory over Sherlock Holmes was to move house and run away with her husband. That's not a feminist victory." Moffat is a very big fan of ACD’s stories according to Moffat. No comments here. ---Eurus “Ebony Dark'ness Dementia” Holmes – OC, secret sister genius with super powers, who killed a child while she herself was a child, tortured her brother Sherlock and has been put to medical facility- prison for life (where she continued to torture and kill people, and even rape them-well, there was one case at least. She also was able to leave prison at her will and kill people outside). A total psycopath, who fixed her multi-talents on playing some evil games with Sherlock. Turned out to be so, so very needy, that the only thing she really wants is a hug from Sherlock, cause she loses the minute he hugs her. Obviously Mofftiss tried to build her as this greatest villain on the show who ever villain, but it didn’t work out. --Mary Watson – practically an OC, since Mofftiss so heavily rewrote her, that she doesn’t resemble Mary Morstan from ACD’s canon. Even her real name is not really Mary Morstan here, she borrowed it from the grave slab of another person. She is ex-assassin who was murdering people for cash, but retired now, who lies and hides her past from everybody, then she shoots Sherlock almost killing him for good, in order to cover up the fact that she came to kill her blackmailer and Sherlock discovered her. Then Mofftiss make a big point that her main agenda in show is really a new life with a husband she loves and their baby (Mary shoots Sherlock while already being pregnant). Then Mary leaves her husband and little baby girl (the girl given to Mary by Mofftiss in the show, she doesn’t exist in ACD’s canon) when somebody hunts her ex-fellow assassins (yep, they still out there or some of them). Then she is tracked down and returns, but then she is killed off because she jumped in front of the bullet meant for Sherlock leaving her baby girl without the mother and her husband as widower. Bye bye Mary’s agenda, it has been destroyed. (Also what an insult to professional mercenary getting killed by some institutional secretary, honestly). Then it turns out Mary recorded some weird ass DVDs which are now regularly sent to Sherlock and John, and while she makes some kitch speeches there she barely remembers about existence of her baby daughter, if at all. In the process we find out that John, while Mary was still alive, was already heavily flirting with another woman (it was Eurus “Ebony Dark'ness” in disguise) and really wanted to cheat on Mary. Oh, and Amanda Abbington herself described Mary as psychopath. --A small shout out to those Victorian ladies from TAB’s Mind Palace - they formed a secret sect in order to kill men, had creepy secret meetings and basically were an underground murder club on the loose, even were referred to as “league of furies” at one point. Oh look, women are again portrayed as vile, criminal and agressive entities, with attached aesthetic of KKK. Straw feminism is strong with these ones. --Ok, let’s remember Molly Hooper, she is not a psychopath, she is not villainous, she is not a criminal, she is a nice, smart, normal, kind young working woman. At long last something different, right? Real potential? Ehm, nope, Mofftiss still ruined it. Because she is kept in the show as a female character with a deep desperate unrequired crush on Sherlock who is ready to do a lot for him, but repeatedly mistreated by the object of her affections. Sherlock humiliates, manipulates and abuses her emotionally several times during the show, when it gets better between them, but Mofftiss make sure that poor Molly still can’t have personal life outside of Sherlock, her new BF/fiance Tom ins S3 is a poor copy of Sherlock, he even dresses like him (probably it was done for laughs in the show “ha ha, poor Molly, got replacement goldfish, can’t really move on” only it wasn’t really funny), but they broke up by the end of S3. Then Molly is pushed aside for most of S4, and then there is that famous “I love you” scene, which deeply hurts Molly and makes her cry.....the scene, which according to Mofftiss was a last-minute addition to the script and was not about Molly or her relationships with Sherlock at all, but only about Sherlock and his emotional development and how he is more human now. Molly was simply used by Mofftiss as show-case of Sherlock’s manpain. There was no resolution to this scene and Moffat simply said that Molly would get over it, by having a drink and shagging someone. That’s...deep. Not.

It really makes you wonder what’s Mofftiss’s problem with women and why writing for female characters on the show is such a trainwreck? Well, according to Moffat: --“The original [Sir Arthur Conan Doyle] stories had a huge female following, which I'd never forgotten, and that's because the Victorian ladies liked the way Sherlock looked. (Laughs.) So I thought, use this massively exciting, rather handsome man who could see right through your heart and have no interest ... of course, he's going to be a sex god! I think we pitched that character right. I think our female fan base all believe that they'll be the one to melt that glacier. They're all wrong -- nothing will melt that glacier.” --"Women are needy. Women are out there hunting for husbands." Also his understanding of pregnancy and motherhood “Your wife turns into a boat, and shortly after that, you never sleep again and you clean shit off someone. It doesn’t seem like a very appealing prospect”. Also the infamous “There’s a huge, unfortunate lack of respect for anything male.” I guess all of it sort of explains why Mofftiss write women that way. To be continued...

#sherlock #bbc sherlock #sherlock holmes #sherlock season 4 #eurus holmes #moriarty #irene adler #john watson #molly hooper #mary morstan #mary watson

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the-wolfs-raven · 5 years

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♌: what’s your family like?♍: other blogs?♎: would you date your muse?♏: would you and your muse be friends?♐: 3 things that scare you

♌: what’s your family like?

Ooh. Boy. Well, my dad’s pretty chill. He was a hippy and all that. Did a LOT of drugs in his time (which I didn’t learn about til this year. Go figure.). Got a bit of casual racism stuck in his humor, but he doesn’t mean any ill-will to anyone. He’s a good guy overall.

My mother and her family, though. Damn. Like. I’ve never met anyone so hateful and paranoid about the world. Grandma turned me into a fundamentalist Christian psycho in elementary school (thankfully that got nipped in the bud in middle school). Ma always said she’d disown us if we were gay (then did a complete 180 when my brother came out). They’ve mellowed a bit with time, but now Grandma has Alzheimer's and is a complete psycho nut again. Also, again with the casual racism, but they’re far more serious about it. Typical MAGA folk.

So woo for breaking the hate cycle, I guess?

♍: other blogs?

Loads.

@thepalewolfhowls is Tara’s daughter, Taria Fletcher. My little lore bender. Very angry daughter of Lo’Gosh with a fondness for orcs and punching people. She has her own daughter now, Accalia, and a sort-of mate, Grok’tor Ironbite, a grizzled war veteran. Taria underwent chronomantic aging to make her an adult (partially because I fucked up my timelines. Partially because a child is an inconvenient agent and adult Taria can break so many more skulls). She would have been around 7 years old if not for the aging, but she is fully an adult, physically, mentally, and emotionally (though her step-father may argue the latter. lol)

@bluewolfcaravan is Tara’s trading and shop ventures. Lots of fun stuff there when I’m not too dead to run them.

@the-white-lioness is Ishtara Lionstar. A Night Elf whore who originally turned Tara down the path of owning her sexuality. She and her lions are all named for Assyrian (Mesopotamian, whatever) figures since its a good chunk of my heritage. Lovely lion whore, basically.

@wordhobbies is Necrocia Witherwing aka Twitchy formerly known as Sentinel Lyralel Dawnwhisper. After a traumatic blow to the head, the elf became completely unhinged, putting herself in dangerous situations and stitching herself back together. Though she’s never technically died, you wouldn’t know it from looking at her. She also has...Hobbies. Lots of hobbies. “I asked myself, why should a murloc only have two eyes? Why not ten? Or TWENTY THREE?!” …ehem…Her fascination with hobbies was actually pulled from an eccentric character from a children’s cartoon (Grandpapa Thistle from Ben and Holly’s Little Kingdom). Occasionally, she has short periods of sanity where her hair returns to its normal state and she becomes terrified of everything that’s happened to her. Twitchy is almost emaciated and has various scribbles, scars, tattoos, etc all over her body from just...various things. Sometimes she needs to remember something and she’ll literally just ink it into her skin. If she can’t find something to tattoo herself with, she’ll just carve it on. She’s extremely difficult to play for a long period of time because she just requires SO much energy.

@obscure-snowdrop is my little Shadow Whisperer bookworm who I made specifically to join the Crows. She began hearing whispers at a young age and they keep her relatively sane despite her horrific life. If wards or any such thing silence the whispers, she goes into a fit as everything that has worn on her over time coalesces in one fell swoop.

@snaythes These were my spook family from many fandoms back. They are hemomancers of sorts with various quirks. The eldest brother builds furniture from human parts. One brother is a butcher who specializes in cannibalistic delicacies. One brother, who had his heart broken, incorporates unused bodies into their home’s décor. His ex-fiancée currently serves as a chandelier in the living room (I realize the irony). The only sister is a painter who works with macabre and lascivious subjects. She and the eldest brother have an...unconventional relationship. The youngest brother is the most tame, and doesn’t really share his family’s penchant for violence and murder.

@korbintavernack aka Nix is a Blacktalon agent who worked closely with Taria in the past. He’s a brawler and a magebreaker with enough wards to silence any magical activity in a 20 foot radius around himself. He’s also responsible for the warding on Taria’s mind making her resistant to mental attacks and manipulation.

@theunkindness is an organization of (traditionally only Kaldorei) assassins and thieves who take morally upright contracts overall (killing bad folk like slavers, abusers, etc). Tara is a part of the Unkindness and still communicates with several of her old contacts.

@winterscalesheir is the original Warhammer 40k Tarvasha. She is the complete opposite of WoW Tara and I have no idea how it happened. The bastard daughter of Rogue Trader Calligos Winterscale, she’s determined to find the Baleful eye of Sebastian Winterscale and cement herself among her father’s bloodline.

♎: would you date your muse?

I mean, if I had to date someone, Tara would be a pretty high reach for me. I think I’d feel way too inferior to actually date someone like her, though I’d shower the poor girl with affection. We’d probably try to outdo each other in gift-giving and kind gestures. However, Tara is more heteroromantic, as am I, so even given the chance, it probably wouldn’t work. lol

♏: would you and your muse be friends?

I think we’d make decent friends. I don’t like the upkeep that comes with friendships and Tara tends to disappear a lot, so I think that would work out just fine in the end.

♐: 3 things that scare you

Someone breaking into my house. Seems kinda specific, but here’s the thing: I have a shit fight or flight response, even when my kids are involved (I once left them in the backyard as I was running away from a wasp). This is partially due to the fact that I was terrified of SIDS, so I didn’t allow myself to bond with my kids when they were born. A lot of people I know are like “Yeah, I’d bust someone’s ass if they ever tried to touch my kids” but honestly, I feel like I’d probably run like a bitch and hate myself forever for it. But who knows? Maybe I’d pick up a floor lamp and fucking wreck someone’s day? I’d rather not find out one way or the other.

Losing my technology. I live through screens. All of my memories are contained in my tech and on the web. I’m terrified that I’d lose those things. I’ve already had a phone run over and lost all of my children’s baby photos and videos. I have very little memory of those times, so losing that was pretty heartbreaking for me.

Apocalypse. Any sort of end-of-the-world bullshit where you’ve gotta figure out how to survive. A lot of my friends have bug out bags and everything else but my oldest is a Type 1 diabetic. If the places producing insulin suddenly stop, I have no way to keep my daughter alive. It’ll be cyanide pills for the lot of us.

Thanks for the ask @latildarommel! Sorry it got so heart-wrenching at the end. lol

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