#I cannot be the only one think they played intense mind game on this one microphone; can I?
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hyohaehyuk · 1 month ago
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Video: Sam Reid & Jacob Anderson on ANNE RICE'S INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE's epic love story | TV Insider and photo via hsywa216
They surely had a lot of fun with that microphone 😉
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neptuneschldd · 6 days ago
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Shining a light on “unfavorable” placements. pt.1
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Within astrology, I notice a lot of people addressing only the dark sides of dark placements. These placements being considered as unfavorable and or “unfortunate”. However, tougher aspects/placements are generally considered to be gifts, though they are challenges, I see them as direct callings on what allows the individual to reach success. I am not a professional but these are patterns/observations I make from personal experience and life all around me. Now buckle up, this’ll be a long post, I’ll be discussing only planetary/object placements, next part will be aspects however, less descriptive.
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12H & 8H Suns and Moons
12H Suns are considered to be unfavorable however, this placement is actually a gift, though the sun is “shadowed” in this area; individuals with 12H are actually here on a mission, though it is bleak to see, individuals with this placement have power and it’s not even locked potential, it’s just power that they cannot see themselves but naturally exude. 12H suns are directly connected to the subconscious, they have this “one foot in one foot out” approach to reality, they are immensely creative and are gifted with compassion at early ages, though they don’t realize it, they tend to be ahead of the game in the early stages of life
12H Moons; these individuals are given heavy emotions, probably even a transformative connection with their mother, their emotions is where their spiritual knowledge lies, they have strong intuition and are the true empaths of astrology. Those with this placement are driven by their feelings, they know the ins and outs and have all the secrets, this is more hidden/internal knowledge, similar to 12H suns, they can gain a lot of knowledge later in life
Now 8H Suns/Moons are similar to one another. Individuals with these placements have true power in them, and they are gifted with depth and intensity that people are actually afraid of. These are the type of people to get told something toxic about themselves and they hit you with a “I know.” or they will outwardly tell you themselves (If other points in the chart agree). They are masters when it comes to shadow work and they are constantly changing–if you don’t see them for at least a month and they come back, their mindset could have taken a complete 180, for better or for worse. The 8H expands everything it touches, it creates an intense amount of depth to the matter. These individuals also tend to have a lot of people that will outwardly try to put them down, whether it is directly or indirectly, they also tend to have karma on their side. Their Image(Sun) and their emotions(moon)are heavily protected and praying on these individuals' downfall is like asking for a spiritual ass whooping.
Mercury in Pisces & Sagittarius:
Having Mercury in Pisces is an unfavorable placement, these individuals could be seen as forgetful, in a constant cycle of daze, and emotionally detached. However, the thoughts that boil within the brain of this placement is insane. I mean, we have a civil rights activist and a famous genius with this placement, if that doesn’t tell you anything idk what to tell you. These individuals are gifted with a lot of creativity, their thoughts actually run a mile a minute, they are typically well versed in various hobbies, these are the type of people if you ask what they do they might not give you one answer and hang around them long enough, you will see them having a new hobby every week. The ADHD masters, they’ll tell you they never played an instrument and hop on and immediately sound like an intermediate musician. These people have seen and heard it all, they are intelligent and their words hold weight. They say one thing and it’ll last you a lifetime, their advice sits in the back of people’s minds, their words are food for the soul, everything they say is more calculated and meaningful than even they think themselves. Truly underrated.
Next my lovely Sagittarian Mercuries. These individuals could be seen as rude, blunt, obnoxious, and or lacking emotional depth but just like their jupiterian sister pisces; they are much wiser than they put on. These individuals are witty, they are intelligent, they are humorous, their words hold power as well, they tell the truth and they build people up, they’re down to earth and self-assured, they have a way of making people listen, they are captivating in their words and can be lyrically gifted, natural poets in their own way.
Cadent Dominant Placements:
Being Cadent Dominant in my learnings is considered to have most of your placements within the 3H, 6H, 9H, and 12H. In addition, in case you don’t know, cadent houses are the houses further away from the angular houses and after the succedent houses, they tend to be where the most work has to happen are seen as challenging placements to have. Now, these individuals are smart as fuck, for lack of a better term. They are gifted with an inner drive, a drive that not many people will see or understand but themselves, these individuals have the power of moving masses. Though their efforts are indirect, they tend to hit people when it’s least expected–driven, misunderstood and powerful. 3H placements are well versed in communication, 6Hers know how to get shit done, 9Hers and 12Hers are mass movers and the backbone influencers. Having these placements indicate someone important, possibly even beyond a metaphysical sense. They don’t stop until they win and their perseverance is remarkable just as their lives are.
Saturn/Uranus/Pluto Ruled or Dominance (etc.)
Talk about “fuck around and find out”, these indivudals are like the older or even the middle children in astrology, many people with significant Pluto/Saturn/Uranus in their chart, this includes being ruled(MC & ASC), having it as a dominant planet, placed within the 1H, or aspecting Sun/Moon/Asc–tend to be protected like crazy. They tend to go through a lot of inner struggle and tend to constantly have something to work on, it’s like once they’re done with one lesson they’re given another. It’s like being stuck with chores all day and you’re finally done with your last one and once you’re about to step outside or go to your room to lay down, their parents call them and ask them to do something else and the cycle goes on lol. These individuals are resilient and are hardworking, they’re unique and nothing generally gets past them, you fuck with them, you’re fucking with their team as well, and best believe the universe is ready to dish back what you sent in tenfold; this even applies to the individual, but they rarely fuck up cause they know how it can get everytime. Gifted with power, control and drive, these individuals are goal-oriented, they don’t let anything get in their way and if there is even a slight indication of a distraction about to occur, they shut it down real quick. I like this.
Saturn in Angular Houses (1H, 4H, 7H, 10H) and HM: 5H.
Saturn in these houses are hard hitting. Cracking my knuckles because I’m about to go IN. I will state the
To start, Saturn in the 1H, these individuals are constantly met with lessons that have to do with their identity, they will be put in situations where they are physically limited and their identity is limited/restricted, these people will obsess over themselves and hold themselves to a high standard. However, even through this, these individuals not only directly have karma on their side, but they are ultimately gifted with a deep knowing of self, they build their identity and it is a literal weapon to anyone who brings murky intentions into their world, simply because of how resilient they are and how much they worked through restriction in the past.
For Saturn in the 4H, they may have had issues that involved restriction with their family, this is heavy because they sat through that for their entire lives, up to 18 and possibly even further than that. These individuals weren’t able to make a house a home or generally find a proper home. In their older years, they work with this energy to make a place for themselves and others, they have the power of compassion and comfort.
For Saturn in the 7H & 5H, these individuals are known to have tough luck in love, relationships are rare and if they have many relationships, they are often restrictive and unsatisfactory. They may struggle additionally with their sense of worth and bear a false outlook on love. However, in some moments in their younger years and in their older years, they possess deep knowledge on love, they seem to take it seriously and their love is rich, they are gifted with deep compassion and the ability to be long term with other people. They have unforgettable love, and they are typically unforgettable people as a whole.
Lastly for Saturn 10H, these people could feel restricted career wise, they may feel that they’re always being attacked in their reputation and are held from their true potential, however, they actually overextend themselves more than what they were meant, they can influence and hold a lot of power.
These can also be applied to Pluto as well, with more of a transformative foundation, however, Saturn and Pluto tend to be both extremely transformative planets.
Chiron in Succedent Houses (2H, 5H, 8H, 11H)
These placements tend to fit in a similar category, they are often scarred with themes that are prioritized in life; Money, Fun, Transformation and Community. They tend to see others experience joy and balance within these themes however, they find that this is the source of their trauma and unhealthy codependency that they desire to break away from. Ultimately, these individuals are gifted with strength and influence, they are creative, influential and open-minded when conflicts are properly addressed.
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In this post, I went into depth on placements that have more power than what is spoken about them; however, the dark tends to hold more truth about the light than the light does of itself. The placements listed are powerful and resilient, gifted with all sorts of things, and if you believe that something in your chart is insignificant, understand that astrology is a tool to access potential, it can hint at traits but it is not a concrete definition because there are other calculations that exist and have existed even beyond Traditional Western astrology. Next part will be on aspects, thank you for reading.
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- J🧡
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peachiejeongin · 19 days ago
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Making Out with Stray Kids
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Synopsis: Heated make out sessions with Stray Kids.
Pairing: ot8!SKZ x gn!reader
Genre: Fluff, Suggestive
Notice: Hello, my loves! Enjoy these short make out blurbs I wrote a while back as I continue to work on Part 4 of The Phantoms :)
 ~ Bang Chan Soft kisses. It started as one small kiss, a simple peck on his lips to be precise; it was his reward, in a sense, for producing arduously through the night. Now, Chan cannot seem to get enough of you, having you pulled onto his lap and leaning back into you. Neither of you minded this sudden change of the itinerary; Chan needed a break, after all. His lips taste like strawberry gummies and soda pop, a quick snack from earlier in the night. They move perfectly in sync with yours, slow at first, but full of love nevertheless. His arms circle around your waist, careful not to pull you in too fast. You are never able to comprehend how gentle he always is with you, asking every ten minutes if you are okay or if you need anything; a soft ‘yes’ is the only word you’re seemingly able to form in between kisses and whines. No matter how many songs Chan has produced, the soft sounds you make under his touch are his favorite melodies. His head falls back onto the rest of his chair as your swollen lips make their way down to the side of his neck, bruising the sensitive skin lightly and eliciting a sincere moan. Chan does not have the humility to admit it, but he is a total sucker for your lips on him. “You’re so pretty, Hon. I love you so much.” ~ Lee Know Slightly rough, but extremely passionate. You are not exactly sure how you ended up in your current position, yet here you were, pressed up against the wall and kissing Minho dizzy. It does not plague your mind in the slightest; after all, kissing Minho was much more thrilling than figuring out how you ended up kissing him. The kisses are intense, resulting in light huffing from both parties. Minho has one hand on your waist and the other in your hair, pulling at the strands lightly. He moves one leg in between yours, while simultaneously lifting your chin up to gain access to your neck. His lips trail down to your exposed jaw, littering kisses down your neck and stopping at your collarbones. He bites his lip when you attempt to gain the upper hand, tugging his head backwards by his hair and kissing areas relative to where he had just gently marked you. He lowly warns you not to leave marks on him; he, according to an earlier conversation, has a photo shoot tomorrow morning. Yet, his eyes are telling a different story, silently daring you to leave bruises wherever you please. Precisely when you think you have won control over him, he moves the hand previously gripping your waist up to the base of your neck. “What do you think you’re doing, Darling?” ~ Changbin Silly kisses. You are in the back seat of Changbin’s car. His face is slightly blushed, only revealed by the subtle neon glow of the city creeping into the vehicle. His lips are warm, and there is a certain softness to them that only he possesses. Despite this softness, neither of you ever take making out seriously; that is exactly the case in this scenario. Changbin teasingly squeezes your side, resulting in giggles from the both of you. After this brief moment of fun, you’re back to eagerly exploring one another. A bit of play fighting is incorporated as you tussle in attempt to pin the other one down first. Changbin puts on a bratty pout, huffing playfully once you beat him to it. This whiny demeanor did not last long; the sweet scent of your perfume began to cloud Changbin’s senses as all he could focus on was the feeling of your lips gently kissing on his collarbones. Blood abandoned his face, rushing to other, more sensitive parts of his body. He swallowed hard, bunching the hem of your t-shirt in his fist as he so desperately tried to silence himself. His teasing joy is over; it is his turn to succumb to your fun. ”I can play this game all night, Dear.” ~ Hyunjin Lustful kisses. You are on Hyunjin’s lap. A soft, yet sensual playlist lowly blares in the background as Hyunjin’s hands guide your movements against him. His lips are plush and full, tasting of cotton candy from his lip balm. His tongue lightly battles with yours for dominance, but neither of you care enough to actually win; instead, you ravish in exploring each other’s mouths. He moves up to lightly nibble on your ear, his hot breath fanning over it as he whispers the dirtiest thoughts possible to elicit a reaction from you, before smirking as if he said nothing. His hands move from your waist slowly down to your ass, teasingly massaging it. He smiles trickily at every sweet sound coming from your mouth, pretending not to hear your cries of need. His hands make their way up to tug your shirt down slightly, giving him access to your chest. Hyunjin is one to value the moment; therefore, he gets you as needy as he possibly can before even considering taking action. ”Have patience, Love. Our night has just begun.”
~ Han Messy, eager kisses. Han was not one to spend weeks, much less days at a time without talking to you. He always managed to carve a second out of his schedule to at least shoot an ‘I love you’ your way. Yet, you haven’t seen Han in nearly a month, much less spoken to him. He did not respond to your texts or calls, and FaceTiming was not even in the question at this point. Despite your admiration of the attention he payed to every comeback, you missed his gentle caress. It felt like nearly half a century before Han finally reached out. ‘Hi, Honey! I’m finally done with promotions! Can’t wait to see you :)’. The minute he stepped foot in your home, you had jumped into his arms before he could even get a ‘hello’ out. Desperation clouded your judgment as you began to kiss him dizzy. The kisses were slightly rushed, but no less loving than before. He tasted like citrus fruit, most likely due to his chewing gum. You can tell Han’s been quite worked up as well; he is touchier than normal, running his soft hands roaming over and exploring every curve and indent of your body. Breathy ‘I missed yous’ were exchanged in between kisses. The need to get impossibly closer was almost overbearing, even with your bodies and lips practically smushed against one another’s. Even though you haven’t seen each other in weeks, the teasing is still rampant. ”Do we need to move this to the bedroom, Babe?”
~ Felix Sugary kisses. Your back is pressed firmly against the kitchen counter; Felix’s hands are pressed to your cheeks with an equally gentle force as he kisses you. His lips are delightfully sweet, similarly to the brownies baking in the oven nearby. He savors the moment as if you are his favorite sweet treat, not wanting to let go of the delectable flavor just yet. He smiles into every kiss, astounded by how beautiful you look under his soft gaze. It is slow and lovely, his hands gently thumbing over your cheeks from time to time. He is gentle with you, and you with him, placing your hands tenderly on his chest. You do your best not to lose track of time with Felix; you do not want to overstep, plus, the brownies are still baking. It is hard not to feel lightheaded, however, when he litters soft kisses along your jaw and the sides of your neck. The brownies are definitely not the only thing warming up in the kitchen. “My pretty baby.”
~ Seungmin Slow, lazy kisses. You are laid atop Seungmin’s rumpled fluffy bedding; his bedroom is messy, but you do not mind. Your leg is hooked over his waist as he rubs gentle patterns on your bare skin, kissing you gently. You’re supposed to be studying science notes, not each other. Yet, pencils, paper, and textbooks are pushed to the side, and long out of your minds; kissing was much more exciting than studying biological concepts. As such, you found yourself here, your limbs tangled up with each others and your lips softly moving in sync. He lets you set the pace, allowing you to go as gently as you like. Every touch from Seungmin is so sensual and caring. He takes his time with you, kissing and caressing you as if you both have all the time in the world. Your hand finds its way to his tousled hair, which matches your messy ponytail. He mutters breathy ‘I love yous’ in between every kiss, breaking occasionally to nip at you playfully and eliciting soft chuckles from you. Seungmin takes every opportunity as such to traverse more and more, exploring what you both like. “I cherish moments like these with you.”
~ Jeongin Playful kisses. It is one’o’clock in the morning. You ventured to the Stray Kids residence earlier in the night for a sleepover with Jeongin. Now, you are situated under a huge, lofi blanket fort, exchanging flirty banter with one another. It starts with feather-light pecks on each others’ faces. Soon, it turns into the both of you wrapped up in each others arms, kissing each other dazedly. The feeling is still a new one for the both of you; you are not too huge on intimate affection and the relationship is still fairly new. Jeongin is not exactly sure where to place his hands because of this, so he perches them high on your back. The kisses are a bit stiff at first; however, you both ease into them as time goes on. He is quiet, but his soft actions speak louder than the silence. Jeongin incorporates a bit of amusement into the kissing, lightly tickling your sides to relieve both of your nerves. Jeongin decides to experiment slightly, trailing soft pecks down your neck and jaw. He is careful and slightly hesitant with the kisses. With every new movement, he asks if you liked it or if you were okay. As aforementioned, it is still new to both of you. Every new action is exciting, and incorporating a bit of reassurance and fun never hurt anyone. “I hope you’re my first and last. I love you.”
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ode2rin · 1 year ago
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it has become an awful pattern of habit how much itoshi sae always shows up at your doorstep only when he wants to. 
“don’t go out with oliver.”
and here he was again, like a recurring relapse that happens every single time you thought you’re doing better. the kind that hits when you think you're finally making progress, that momentary flicker of doing better before it all crumbles.
and you were. you’re doing good, doing better, but god, does it hurt like hell when he pulls stunts like this.
it was a relentless tug-of-war, a game he played so unfairly, leaving you with no rules, no defenses. you were damn sick of it. 
“really?” the word escaped as a scoff, a blend of disbelief and irritation coating your voice. “you're showing up to my place at this hour just to say that?” 
a drawn-out exhale left sae's lips at your reaction, the scent of alcohol accompanying it—a scent foreign to the sae you'd known. was he drinking? itoshi sae doesn’t drink – or at least the sae you knew would never let a single drop of alcohol taint his flesh. 
“just don’t. he’ll hurt you.”
a bitter laugh escaped you, “you're one to talk about hurting people, aren't you?”
if you didn't know better, you'd mistake the look he shot you for something resembling an apology mixed with regret. but no, you knew that those eyes can never hold such, not for you, not for anyone.
“news flash, itoshi. you don’t have the right to decide who i can or cannot go out with.” 
“don’t i?” 
his challenge lingered in the air, a question not constrained by words but driven by conflicting wills, a daring meeting of gazes that had been evaded until now.
you're so fucking unfair, itoshi sae.
“leave,” you spat, your grip on the doorknob tightened, fingers almost digging into the cool metal. 
“don’t i, y/n? do i not have a right to you?”
“please, sae. just go,” you murmured, eyes squeezed shut, a trace of tears threatening to break free.
“— because you have all damn rights to me that it fucking terrifies me.” 
and there it was.
the vulnerability he so fiercely and stubbornly concealed, laid bare for you to witness. it slipped out like an admission, raw and unguarded.
sae's insides churned as your gaze bore into him, the intensity of it feeling like a searing heat that left him exposed, his thoughts laid bare. it was as if you were looking at him as if he had grown a second head, an incredulity mirrored in his own disbelief at what he had just blurted.
but it’s the truth, a truth etched not in alcohol-induced haze but in the sobering clarity that you, ever loving you, terrified him. 
“you– you terrify me," his words stumbled out, like he was admitting a secret he never meant to reveal. “you’re the first thought that comes to my mind, and the last one before i sleep. i feel you everywhere, your presence, your absence — it terrifies me, y/n.” 
he ran a hand through his hair, a gesture of frustration that echoed the inner chaos he couldn't quite contain. the sting of alcohol just added to the jumble of thoughts, like mixing a cocktail of emotions he wasn't prepared to deal with. 
sae had never been great with handling drinks, and here he was, wearing his heart on his sleeve, a little more vulnerable than he’d intended. 
after all, a body so foreign to alcohol can only handle so much.
and it's ironic how that also applies to sae's acceptance of your love – like a liquor he's not used to, but still very much would like a taste.
he knew he had absolutely no right to show up here; he had no right to stop you from going out with another man; he had no right to claim a part of you, not after he shattered your heart because he was afraid of his own.
he knew that, but itoshi sae is selfish. he wanted you, terrifyingly so. he hoped — prayed, even—no one will ever have you the same way he does. 
and he meant that in the most selfish way possible. because, time and time again, itoshi sae was selfish, even more so when it came to loving you.
“it terrifies me,” he carried on, a touch firmer this time, his gaze unyielding as it held yours, “how much you consume me, and it frightens me even more how much i would let you.”
“then just let me, you stupid asshole.” 
the words burst out of you, a declaration that felt like a leap of faith. your arms instinctively reached out, embracing him as if to underscore your determination. you had caught his confession like a lifeline, and now it was your turn to throw your heart into the mix.
“and you have all the damn rights to me too,” you murmured against his lips.
the truth is, he doesn't deserve you, not in the slightest. but god, you want him to— so bad. and after hearing what he said, you knew he wanted the same thing too.
you wrap your arms tighter around him, and it's like fitting together two missing pieces. you missed this, missed him. no amount of trying will ever relieve the longing. because truth be told, hearts aren't great at playing hide and seek; that much can be seen from the way you’re both holding on to each other.
“i'll love you slowly, until it's not scary, until you get used to it,” you whispered, forehead pressed against his.
in the quiet space between your whispered words, sae felt the world shift beneath his feet. 
love with you wasn't meant to be frightening. love with you wasn't meant to be all-consuming.
love with you, he realized, only needed to be exactly like this— your fingers against his nape, a smile curving your lips, and the assurance in your gaze that promised better times ahead.
“i’ll get used to it.” maybe the words came off wobbly, but he couldn’t care any less now; it was a promise.
“you better.” you let out a chuckle, genuine this time, and it took just one chuckle for sae to realize that everything will be just fine. 
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[extra]:
“sae?”
you pull his attention, sensing his wakefulness from the lingering kisses he peppers on your skin. the same man who laid bare his heart to you was sprawled within your sheets, his breathing gentle against your neck.
though his lips stay sealed, the comforting squeeze of your hand relays that he was listening.
“where did you hear that i’m going out with oliver?”
a brief pause, followed by a scoff. way to ruin a moment, sae’s inner voice grumbles at the timing of your question. why bring up another guy's name now, especially when he's shirtless and right above you? the nerve.
“doesn’t matter.” he dismisses your question. 
yet, there's something oddly satisfying about riling up the usually composed sae, it’s one of your life’s greatest pleasures. and so, you press on, unable to resist the urge to tease. 
“come on, now. i want to know what made my cold and grumpy sae to show up at my door at 2 am, professing that i terrify him,” you pushed, meeting his irritated glare with an arched brow. “— and don’t give me that look. those were your words, not mine!”
tch. he clicks his tongue, fully aware you won't let him live down his confession. “got it from shidou. he told me right before asking me to drink with him.”
as those words escape sae’s lips, you burst into laughter, leaving him to wonder if he broke you with last night's late-night affection.
“what’s so funny?” he raises an eyebrow at your sudden outburst.
“shidou tricked you into drinking with him, love. i turned down oliver without a second thought. we didn't even get close to going on a date,” you playfully reveal, your grin growing. “i kind of mentioned that to shidou. we share gossip occasionally, you know.”
sae froze at what you said, and he didn’t need no damn mirror to see that he was turning red from the embarrassment and realization that he had been lured to drink.
“i’ll kill him.”
“and i’ll thank him.” may shidou get all the dopamine he so cunningly desires. 
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note. i also don't know what this is so don't look at me now :P i'm throwing tomatoes at myself
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novaursa · 3 months ago
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The Gods Are Cruel (and so is he)
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- Summary: Maegor always thought of you. Even when you were convinced he had forgotten you.
- Paring: niece!reader/Maegor I Targaryen
- Note: This story captures Maegor's inner struggle and events before Fire and Blood.
- Rating: Explicit 18+ (just to be safe)
- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround
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For as long as Maegor can remember, you have been the one thing denied to him. He’s conquered kingdoms, brought men to their knees, and ruled with the iron will of a dragon. But he cannot have you. His own father, King Aegon, forbade it. “She’s your niece, Maegor. There are limits, even for us.” As if the blood of the dragon were not meant to twist and coil upon itself, strengthening the line.
You’re the second-born daughter of Aenys, the weakling king who, even now, sits the Iron Throne in pitiful splendor. His half-brother’s mewling reign grates on Maegor’s nerves, but it’s the distance between you that fuels his rage. You’re imprisoned on Dragonstone, hidden away like a relic too precious to behold. And for what? To preserve your innocence? To keep you untouched by his flame?
His hand tightens around Blackfyre’s hilt as he recalls the way you looked at him, the first time your eyes truly met. You were but a girl then, your hair falling in soft waves of silver down your back, your eyes wide with awe and fear. A look that has haunted him ever since, seeping into his dreams, twisting his desires into something darker, more dangerous. He dreams of you, night after night, your body beneath his, your mouth forming his name like a prayer. You, the one thing he cannot have, the one thing he would raze cities to possess.
And yet, you are kept from him. Aenys has you guarded like a treasure, a pawn in his political games. The gods themselves conspire against him, placing you always just out of reach. He has seen you only in glimpses now, from across the court or from the back of his dragon, Balerion, circling above Dragonstone like an unholy sentinel.
What do you think of him? He wonders, in the quiet of his chambers, when even the echoes of war fall silent. Do you fear him, as the rest do? Or do you feel it too—the pull between you, the force that binds your fates as surely as dragonfire and blood?
His first wife, Ceryse, lies cold and untouched in his bed, her barren womb a constant reminder of the child he was never meant to sire with her. He took her as duty demanded, but his heart—and his loins—have always belonged to you. A woman he could mold, could teach, could keep. In his darkest thoughts, he imagines how your skin would feel under his hands, how your breath would catch as he whispered your name. Y/N.
Does your heart beat faster when you think of him? Do you lie awake at night, wondering if he’s thinking of you, too? You must. You have to. Because if you don’t, what is left for him? What can satiate this unquenchable thirst that rages through him, consuming him like wildfire?
The gods mock him with every breath you take beyond his reach. They have shackled him to a woman who cannot bear him heirs, as if to deny him the legacy he was born to create. They have put you on Dragonstone, behind walls and guards and duty, as if they think any of that could hold him back forever. But he will have you. His father’s wishes, Aenys’ weakness, the gods themselves—none of it matters. You belong to him.
In his mind, he sees the two of you, alone in the Dragonmont, the heat of the beasts around you only heightening the fever that pulses through his veins. He would take you there, make you his in every way, his hands on your skin, your nails in his back. The thought is almost unbearable in its intensity. But it is only a dream, a hollow mockery of what he craves.
He remembers the song you played once, in the Red Keep, your fingers dancing over the strings of a harp. It was a haunting melody, something about love and death entwined, the lyrics slipping from your lips like smoke. It was not for him—you hadn’t even known he was there—but he felt the words like a dagger in his chest. The horror of his love. A love that destroys, that devours. And yet, he would have it no other way.
You are the one thing that could calm his rage, and the one thing that stokes it to an inferno. He could burn the world for you, if it meant seeing you by his side, wearing his crown, carrying his children. He would destroy anyone who stands in his way, even the gods themselves. Because you are his, and he is yours, no matter how high the walls they build between you.
The gods are cruel. But so is he. And he is patient. For now.
But not forever.
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Exile is a bitter draught, and Maegor tastes its poison on his tongue every day. Here, across the Narrow Sea, he is surrounded by false smiles and sharper knives, an unwelcome guest in a land that does not know the fire of dragons. He is supposed to be broken, he thinks. This was Aenys' intent—to crush his spirit, to strip him of power and keep him from you. It should have worked.
But Maegor is not so easily broken.
Every day he is here, he feels you slipping further away, like water through his fingers. Every day, the distance grows, a chasm that he fears even a dragon’s wings could not cross. You must think him weak now, to have been cast aside, to have failed in taking what is rightfully his. Do you believe the stories? That he is a monster, a madman, unworthy of the blood in his veins?
He paces the halls of this foreign stronghold, his mind churning with thoughts of you, of the night they took you from him. He had almost had you, his hand outstretched, your name a growl on his lips, when Aenys’ guards pulled you away, your eyes wide with something he cannot name. Fear? Betrayal? Desire?
Aenys had raged at him, his voice trembling with a fury Maegor had never thought his spineless brother capable of. “You will not touch her! Do you hear me, brother? I will not let you taint her with your madness!” As if your purity were some fragile thing, as if you were not a dragon yourself, with fire in your blood.
His exile was swift, the king’s command carried out by his lapdog lords who dared not look Maegor in the eye as they escorted him to the ship, bound for a land that does not know him. Aenys spoke of protecting you, of preserving the fragile peace between the Crown and the Faith. He was terrified of another rebellion, afraid that Maegor’s obsession with you would shatter what little stability he had managed to cling to. The Faith would rise against such a union, scream of abomination and blasphemy, and the weak-willed sheep of Westeros would follow.
And so, Maegor was sent away like a common criminal, the dragon without his fire, the beast without his prey.
But what they do not understand, what even you perhaps cannot see, is that this does not break him. No, this only feeds the flames, stokes the hunger that gnaws at him day and night. In his solitude, he thinks of you, of the way your lips parted when you spoke his name, the tremor in your voice as you told him to stop. And beneath that tremor, beneath the fear, he heard something else—something that made his blood burn and his pulse quicken.
You want him. He knows it, has seen it in your eyes, in the way you cannot help but look at him when you think no one is watching. It is a look he has seen before, in women who knew the danger of wanting a man like him, who knew the risk and were drawn to it all the same. But you—you are not like them. You are his niece, his kin, and that only makes the desire more potent, more twisted.
It is as if the gods themselves crafted you to tempt him, to drive him to madness. They dangle you before him, a prize he cannot claim, and laugh as he claws at the edges of sanity, his mind unraveling with every thought of you. Y/N, the name a whisper on his lips as he dreams, a curse and a prayer all at once. He imagines you as you must be now, cloistered away on Dragonstone, your beauty kept hidden from the world, your spirit shackled by duty and fear.
What do you think of him now, your would-be captor, your would-be king? Do you despise him for his failure, for letting them take him from you? Or do you still dream of him, as he dreams of you, your hands reaching out in the darkness, your voice calling him back across the sea? He would come for you, if he could. He would set fire to this whole wretched land if it meant seeing you again, holding you, tasting the lips that have haunted him for so long.
But no, he is here, caged by exile, by duty, by the very blood that runs through his veins. Aenys thinks this will keep him at bay, that distance and shame will cool his fire. A fool’s hope. Every night, Maegor’s dreams grow darker, his thoughts more twisted, until he no longer knows where desire ends and madness begins.
He thinks of what he would do, if you were here now. How he would take you in his arms, heedless of your protests, your pleas. You would fight him, at first—he knows you would. But he would not stop. He would crush every barrier, break every rule that the world has placed between you, until there is nothing left but the two of you, entwined in a knot of blood and fire and desire. He would teach you what it means to be his, to be bound to him in a way that no one, not Aenys, not the gods themselves, could sever.
And would you love him, then? Would you finally see him for what he is, for what he could be to you? Or would you still fear him, still see him as the monster they have all made him out to be? It does not matter, he tells himself. Love, hate—they are two sides of the same coin, both burning with the same intensity. And he would have either, or both, if it meant having you.
He will not stay here forever. This exile is a cage of straw, and he is a dragon. One day, he will break free, and when he does, he will come for you. No more half-measures, no more hesitant glances and whispered promises. He will take you, as he was meant to, as he was born to. And if the world burns for it, so be it.
The gods think they can keep him from you. But he will show them the folly of trying to chain a dragon. And when he does, he will take back what is his, with fire and blood.
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The wine in Pentos is bitter and thin, a poor substitute for the strong, dark vintages of home. Maegor swirls the goblet, his gaze unfocused, the liquid rippling like the storm inside him. He’s been here for what feels like years, a dragon caged, his wings clipped. Exile is a wound that festers, seeping poison into his thoughts, breeding resentment, rage—and longing. Always longing.
He imagines you on Dragonstone, your days spent looking out over the sea, wondering if he’s forgotten you. Do you think him weak for not returning, for letting Aenys and his lapdogs banish him so easily? The thought of your disappointment, your disdain, cuts deeper than any blade. He should be there, should have fought harder, should have…
The door to his chambers bursts open, and his hand flies to Blackfyre’s hilt, the dark thoughts scattering like smoke. But it is no assassin or enemy lord. It is Visenya, his mother, sweeping in like a tempest, her eyes alight with a fire he hasn’t seen in years. For a moment, he thinks he is dreaming. Visenya, the indomitable, the iron queen who shaped him, forged him in the heat of her will and her ambition. The only one who has ever understood him, who has ever truly known him.
“Mother,” he breathes, his voice rough from disuse.
She crosses the room in a few swift steps, her presence as commanding as ever. There is no preamble, no softening of the words that follow. “Aenys is dead.”
The goblet slips from his fingers, clattering to the floor, the wine spilling in a dark pool at his feet. Dead. The weakling king, the half-brother who took everything from him, who caged him in this foreign land and kept you locked away. Dead.
“How?” he asks, his voice a low growl, his mind reeling. This changes everything. The iron bonds of exile shatter in an instant, and all the bitterness, all the rage that has been festering in his heart explodes like wildfire.
“His own weakness killed him,” Visenya says, her lip curling in disdain. “The Faith rose against him, the realm crumbled around him, and he could not hold it together. He was never fit to rule. He left the Seven Kingdoms in chaos.”
And you. What did he leave you with? A kingdom in ruins, a throne contested, and you still locked away, still untouched, still denied to him. Maegor’s blood boils at the thought of it, at the thought of you alone on that bleak island, your beauty hidden from the world, your spirit shackled by a man too weak to protect what was his.
“He is gone,” Visenya continues, her voice hard as steel. “The throne is yours, Maegor. But you must act. The lords will not sit idle; they will scheme and plot and raise their banners for Aenys’ wretched brood. You must return, and you must take what is rightfully yours.”
The throne. The Iron Throne, forged by fire and blood, by the will of their house. But more than that—more than crowns and kingdoms and power—there is you. The promise of you, the dream that has tormented him in the long, empty nights of exile. He sees it all, now, with a clarity that almost blinds him. Aenys is dead, the gods have finally relented, and the path to you is clear.
He rises from his chair, his eyes fixed on Visenya’s face. “And her?” He does not need to speak your name; they both know who he means.
Visenya’s eyes gleam, a predatory smile curling her lips. “You will have her, as it should have been from the start. She is your right, your reward. No one will keep her from you now, not the Faith, not the lords, not even the gods. You will take the throne, and you will take her.”
The words are like a balm, soothing the raw wound of exile, of longing. He sees it now, the vision of what could be, what will be: you, by his side, crowned in Valyrian steel and dragon’s flame, the blood of your enemies soaking the earth at your feet. His queen. His wife. The one thing denied to him, now within his grasp.
Aenys is dead, and with him, the last barrier between Maegor and the life he was meant to have. He will return, he will seize the throne, and he will take you. The thought of it fills him with a fierce, terrible joy. He imagines the look on your face when he storms Dragonstone, when he bursts into your chambers, his eyes wild with the need that has driven him mad for so long. You will fight him, at first, as you must. But he will not be denied. He will make you see, make you understand that you were always his, from the moment you were born.
He thinks of the song you played that day in the Red Keep, the haunting melody that still echoes in his mind. There is horror in our love, the words sang, and yes, there is. There is darkness, and fire, and blood. But there is also something deeper, something that binds you to him in ways you cannot yet fathom. He will show you, when you are his, what it means to love a dragon, to be consumed by the flame and not be burned.
He looks at Visenya, his heart hammering in his chest. “We go to Westeros. We take the throne, and I take her.”
She nods, the fierce pride in her eyes a reflection of his own. “Yes, my son. You will have it all.”
The gods have relented, have finally turned their faces from him and given him what he has craved for so long. The throne, the power, and you. His beautiful, stubborn, untouchable Y/N. No more dreams, no more whispered prayers to uncaring gods. This is destiny, and it will not be denied.
He is coming for you, and nothing—not lords, not priests, not the very heavens themselves—will stop him. You will be his, as you were always meant to be. And if there is horror in it, then let there be horror. Let the world tremble before the fire of his love.
Because he is Maegor, son of Visenya, true heir of Aegon the Conqueror. And he will have what is his.
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skskskskmama · 2 years ago
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♱-housewardens—only one bed?!
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warnings: none
characters: housewardens
note: you guys need to send asks !!! i am suffering writer block :(( also very short
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RIDDLE isn’t even a bit conflicted about this. That what he looks like, atleast. Inside? He’s panicking. The thought of your bodies touching, your back flush against his chest….no! He can’t! But if you insist…
Unbothered, LEONA cannot care less. You’re just sleeping togther, it’s really not that big of a deal. Sure he’ll care if you snore or kick in your sleep, but otherwise, he’s all good.
AZUL, to put it the nicest way possible, has absolutely 0 rizz. When you propose the idea of just sleeping together, his composed facade completely falls. He’ll blush intensely and keep saying he’ll sleep on the couch, but eventually, he’ll give in ;)
KALIM is happy. that’s it. he’s just happy to be around you, so when you accept his offer of sleeping together, he’s ecstatic. he’s a simple man, y’know.
If you were any normal person, VIL would just say no. But you’re, well—you. But you’ll have to ask him first. He’ll even be a lil’ bitch about it when you ask. He’ll pause like he’s contemplating it (he didn’t even need to think about it) and finally say yes after like, 2 minutes of thinking.
IDIA short circuits. You wanna sleep—with him? Really? Him, who sits in his room all day, playing video games and being worthless? He’s not prepared for this! When you reassure him for the tenth time that yes, you don't mind sharing a bed for the night, he relaxes. Until you guys actually get in bed. Then he goes crazy.
MALLEUS is probably the one who had the idea in the first place. Lilia told him to make the first move, and what better move than asking to sleep with his beloved? Of course, you aren’t his beloved. yet. But he’s sure that after this experience, you two will be good as married. (he’s delulu)
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thebadboyfanclub · 2 years ago
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The Lover Of The Seven Kingdoms (Tywin x Reader)
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First of all, I’m sorry but you cannot tell me anything when it comes to Tom hiddleston being the perfect young Tywin Lannister. Second, I love writing morally grey female characters and I wrote grant maester pycelle and mushroom in cause I wanted to show how a lot of male historians portray women in one way cause it’s just easier.
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The lover of the seven Kingdoms” grant maester Pycelle had used as a description of (y/n) Martell, the second wife of Tywin Lannister, the symbol of femininity for a plethora of men in kings Landing, the mother of lord Ezra Lannister and lady Asena, the scandalous twins and one of the few bastards that later became legitimate and inherited Lannisport, then they had three more, lady Nymeria, Lady Zara and Lord Sorin, (y/n) was the secret passion of Tywin since she stepped foot at court, she was to be Joanna’s lady in waiting.
Her appearance was one carved by the Gods, long dark raven hair that curled down to her waist, olive skin, and almost black eyes, her lips thick, and a body as juicy as the fruits of her land, her twin brother Dorian had sent her to Kings landing as a way to show respect and also expand her horizons.
“Princess (Y/n) had relations with one of the bastards of house Dayne when she denied him the man gutted himself in front of her, Doran sends her away to avoid more scandals caused by her lustful appetite”
Mushroom note, Joanna liked her, she was smart and endearing, and she knew how to play her part, however, what Joanna had not taken in mind is that (y/n) stopped at nothing to get what she wants, in this case, it was the young Tywin Lannister, the tall man with muscles everywhere, blue eyes and blonde hair was the subject of desire for a plethora of ladies, none of them had the guts to go after him, (y/n) was not like them, she had her eyes set and the game had begun.
“My lord”
(Y/n) called for Tywin, the hour was quite late but Tywin was the hand of the king, the hour did not matter when they were things he needed to pay attention to, papers to be signed and payments to be settled.
(Y/n) had studied his schedule, Joanna was already in bed and Tywin was free, most of the servants were dismissed so they were no prowling eyes to catch her.
Tywin halted and turned to look at the girl that called for him, she wore a rather sheer dress which was unlikely of hers, Dornish people were always costumed to very light choices in clothing, still, this was a step further, if the candles burned a bit brighter Tywin would have been able to see… well everything.
“Princess (y/n), is there something wrong?”
“No, not exactly, I was hoping to talk to you, in private”
Tywin hesitated, (y/n) was just outside her chamber, she was holding the door open which meant that her choice of privacy was her room, still, curiosity about what it could be that needed to be discussed in such a secretive way was enough for his feet to go one and then the other inside.
(Y/n) closed the door before she spun to rest her back on the wood, a smirk playing on her lips as her plan was going smoother than she expected, the room was decorated in cherry red and gold colors, some orange as well and the intense smell of vanilla and musk took over Tywins senses.
“So, I would prefer it if you started talking”
“Do you like being the hand of the king?”
“You summoned me to ask me if you like my occupation?”
“No, I summoned you because I have a pair of eyes, eyes clear enough to see that something has been bothering you”
“Well I am flattered that the princess cares to ask for my well-being, however, I must go”
“You can’t lie to me Tywin, if it’s not your duty then it has something to do with me, you have been avoiding me, you can’t even look me in the eye”
Tywin once again chose to not speak he only made a b line for the door to which (y/n) was resting, she had managed to think of everything down to reaching for the handle when he did, making their hands touch, Tywin did not pull his away, he let it rest on top of hers as he towered over her and she looked up at him with doe eyes.
“Is it me, my lord? It is my presence that is bothering you?”
“No”
“No? You are breathing quite heavily, your eyes travel below my lips, and… dare I say you could have moved me if you truly wanted to, no one is here, my lord, you can confess to me”
“(Y/n)-“
“Go on, confess”
Her voice was barely above a whisper as she gawked at Tywin with lustful eyes with a hint of innocence, she had done this before, Tywin was a mere puppet, a bug that got caught in the spiders' web and was now waiting to experience her poisonous bite.
Her kiss could be described as venom, it made his entire body feel like it was burning and her touch was the only remedy, his addiction started and ended with her, he had been fantasizing about her every night, haunting him like a succubus and stealing the life out of him, at an instant he forgot everything, his wife, his status, his entire life would crumble if someone were to find them, none of it mattered, all that he cared about was to see her, take her.
He took her right on her window, some servants had even reported that they could see the young princess bareback as her moans grew some attention, alas none of them thought something of it, most of the castle had seen a generous amount of men go in and out of (y/n)s chamber at all hours of the night.
Tywin was in utter awe with (y/n), he almost felt like he would faint as he reached his high, it was the only time Tywin considered that (y/n) was a practitioner of dark magic. No other woman had held such power over him in this act.
“My lion”
She had whispered in his ear before she kissed him,(Y/n) was the perfect lover, every night he would slip from his chamber and knock on her door, she would be waiting for him, take him up to the sky, and wrap him with her fire that burned as bright as dragon fire.
Tywin was entirely himself around her, she allowed him to be in control and gave him the euphoric theatrics of prowling on her, which made (y/n) giggle a little, it was refreshing and borderline hilarious to move the strings in the background while Tywin thought he was moving them only because she let him touch them.
“I have exciting news”
“Which is?”
“Princess (y/n) is pregnant, how lovely would it be if we get to marry our children? We could secure Dorne and bind my friendship with her”
“We will do no such thing”
“Tywin, think about it if we-“
“You are forgetting an important thing Joanna, the princess is not married, who knows who the father of that bastard is, my child will not marry anyone of such low status”
What else could he have said? We can’t marry them cause they are siblings? Joanna would be crushed, Tywin had run to her chamber that night, not even bothering to knock as he burst into the room startling her, still once she laid her eyes on him she smiled, she dared to smile as if nothing has happened.
“How dare you announce your pregnancy without even telling me first”
“I thought you had noticed”
“No, I hadn’t and Joanna wants to marry your child with one of our children”
“I am sure we will find a way around it”
“Find a way around it? How are you so calm when the world is crumbling on your feet? You are not married nor betrothed, this child will be declared a bastard”
“This child will be my firstborn, a child created by you and me if you remember, that is all that matters to me”
“Not to the rest of the realm”
“I do not care about the rest of the realm Tywin, that is your problem, it will be royalty in Dorne, I do not care what they call my child here”
“Some said she bathed in goats blood every full moon, she would burn candles and speak in foreign languages to make Tywin stay by her side”
Mushroom claimed, it could be true or just whispers since no one understood the powerful hold that she had on the young lord, Tywin was a fearsome man, calculated and ambitious, yet (y/n) could sway him in any direction she wished with a bat of an eyelash.
It was such a peculiar moment, (y/n) gave birth to twins four moons after her lady Joanna, Ezra and Asena, both of them had their fathers' eyes, sapphires that shined in the light of the sun as (y/n) fed them from her breasts, Tywin had held Asena first, she looked nothing like Cersei still something in him knew that the two girls were born to be each others nemesis, fate had played him like a fiddle.
“I was thinking of going back to Dorne”
“Why?”
“My brother said it is not safe for us, people will talk and I do not want my children to grow up in a venomous environment”
“No, no you will stay, Ezra and Asena Hill has a nice ring to it”
“They are Martells, my love, they shall be called that”
(Y/n) was not ashamed of her children, on the contrary, she adored them and kept them by her side at all times, she taught them how to walk, talk, sing, and dance, a endearing mother with a backbone made of Valyrian steel, a combination made straight out of the seven rings of hell.
“Push, my lady”
“I can’t, (y/n) please make it stop”
“Maester, what is taking so long?”
“The babe has breached, it will not let me pull it out”
“It hurts (y/n)”
“I know, my lady, just one more push”
Joanna fought tooth and nail to survive, unfortunately, her labor did not harvest any fruit for her, the son survived but Lady Joanna did not even get to hold him, grant Maester pycelle held Tyrion and presented him to lord Tywin who was utterly disgusted by the ugly creature.
“That is no son of mine, throw him in the river”
“You will do no such thing”
“This matter does not concern you, princess”
“It does, you may be excused maester”
Pycelle only nodded and left them alone, a strange aura surrounded both of them, Joanna was gone, a deformed babe had taken her life, and (y/n)s belly was ready to pop any minute, what was to be done now?
“Does cruelty excite you?”
“Cersei and Jaime are both healthy and Lannister featured, that… thing could not have been created by me”
“It was not the babes' fault, so I have to remind you that you are also guilty of the thing you are accusing a dead woman of?”
Tywin was a man but that meant little to nothing, if Tyrion was a bastard then there was no difference between him and (y/n)s children, Tywin was in no place to frown upon such an act since he was having another child on the way, a bastard.
“Listen to me, my love, I know you loved Joanna and I loved her too, but the babe survived, it’s the last thing we have from her, grief is a strong emotion, but we have each other to lean on, don’t you want this for us Tywin? for me?”
There it was, her secret weapon, that sweet voice that dripped of honey and the big doe eyes, she knew how to play the damsel in distress down to every detail, Tywin put his lips in before he shook his head in defeat, his wife had departed but his mistress stood before him, demanding a place at his table and life, which he was willing to give her.
-
Cersei was frantic, the announcement of her father's betrothal to the princess (y/n) and the reaffirmation of her bastard children had brought her to an utmost stage of rage that she was going around her room like a hurricane, she was throwing things and cursing as loud as her lungs allowed it.
How could he do this to her? To her family? That woman had slithered her way into their life like a snake and was now feasting over her mother's dead body, this was just plain disrespectful to her mother.
Tywin found Cerseis handmaidens outside her chamber as the sounds that came from it could put to shame any wild animal, the ladies looked frightened and not one of them dared to go in, however, all of them tried to warn him in leaving the lady be, suggesting that this has probably happened before.
“What do you think you are doing?”
“Get out”
“Young lady I advise you-“
“Shut up! I don’t want to listen to you! How could you marry her?! How could you do this to my mother?”
That was the last thing she said before a harsh slap landed on Cerseis's cheek, the girl was taken back by the act since her father had never hit her, he would discipline her but mostly by raising his voice or finding peculiar tricks of punishment, for Tywin to get physical with his daughter meant that she had gone too far.
“You do not get to judge my decisions, you will welcome your brother and sisters and you will be nice to my wife whether you like it or not, did I make myself clear?”
Silence only looks that could kill were exchanged
“Did I make myself clear?”
“Yes Father”
“My love?”
(Y/n) walked into the room, she had heard everything although she chose to reside in the act of being clueless, Tywin had turned away from his daughter and walked to his soon-to-be wife’s side, his hand found hers and brought it up to his lips, (y/n) smiled fondly before she scanned the room with her eyes, a puzzled look on her face as the room was upside down.
“What has happened? Is the young lady alright? The handmaidens were stuttering when I asked about the noises”
“Yes, no need to worry, my dear, Cersei was just redecorating”
“Oh, well if she wishes I can help with that”
“No, no, Cersei is quite specific, she prefers doing things her way, hence this scenery, we should live her”
“As the young lioness wishes, but before we leave”
(Y/n) took a few steps so she can stand ahead of Cersei, Cersei truly felt like a lioness, one that was trapped in a cage to be exact, as much as Cersei wanted to believe she could outsmart anyone (y/n) had years up on the horse, so naturally she was now trotting past Cersei with her caring smile and eyes that lit up, Cersei was left to looking like a kid that threw a tantrum whilst (y/n) looked like a mother that did her best to keep the peace.
“I know you are angry at me, I would be too, I will not try to be your mother, I do however hope that one day you will view me as your ally or your friend even”
(Y/n) went to caress Cerseis cheek which Cersei flinched away from that earned her a cold hard stare from her father, (y/n) only bit her lip in defeat, then it was replaced by a smile of hope, (y/n) genuinely wanted things to go as smooth as possible, to keep all of Joanna's children close to her, it was the least she could do she wasn’t a complete monster, as much as Cersei liked to think of her as one.
“Perhaps it’s too soon, I am asking way too much of you, I hope you have a great day, sweetling”
“Put everything back in its place, now”
Tywin instructed in a stern voice before they exited the chamber that Hurricane Cersei was occupying, Tywin was sure that she would throw something at the door once it was closed and he stood correct when a loud bang was heard.
“She is a young girl that lost her mother, having an attitude with me is inevitable”
“Cersei is not a normal young girl, she has a superiority complex over everyone, our children will not interact with her yet”
“That won’t be a problem, Asena is not… fond of Cersei either”
“I wonder why, let us not think of Cersei right now, it is time for Nymeria to be fed”
“See how beautiful it sounds when it rolls off the tongue? And you wanted to name her Lydia”
Since this babe was the first legitimate child of Tywin and (y/n) he had the suggestion of picking the name of the beloved girl, on the contrary (y/n) was not budging, she was adamant on naming her daughter after the biggest warrior queen Dorne has ever known, her precious Nymeria.
“The princess never wanted to marry lord Tywin, she was far more interested in keeping their relationship private, howbeit Lord Tywin was too consumed by his emotions for her to consider the fact that the princess could have been wed, she simply chose not to”
Grant maester Pycelle added when asked about their wedding. (Y/n) did not care about her children being legitimate or owning land, Dorne was her home, her brother had congratulated her on the birth of her twins and even offered to have them in Dorne, and her family was delighted by (y/n) bringing forth new heirs for the Martells, it was only Tywin that wanted to make it official, to let everyone know that the princess was now cloaked by the lion, her life as the lady of the rock had begun and Dorne had entered a land that they never really thought of earning.
“In a day you will be my wife, therefore, my children’s good mother, I expect them to treat you as such”
“I do not, Tywin they are in mourning, you cannot expect them to make it easy for me”
“I am not dimly witted my dearest, I know they will have some thoughts over our marriage, albeit I will make sure they keep it to themselves”
Requests are open!
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burningcrab · 1 month ago
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how im imagining ᵐʸ drifter's relationships with the hex. obvy subject to change once the expansion drops and we get to know them better
arthur: you know the sibling thing where you go open your sibling's door and talk to them about stupid shit and then flip them off or something and walk away without closing the door. she does that when he's in the security office. beyond that i don't think they have much of a personal relationship. years of fighting solo in duviri means she struggles with having a commander so she probably gives him heartburn when she fucks off to do her own thing in the field
aoi: they should be at the club. specifically drifter should be at the club learning how to stop fumbling women. aoi gets them shots because drifter says she doesnt get drunk. sadly drifter has only been drinking weird duviri beer as imagined by a teenager for most of her life so the first time she gets drunk off tequila and fireball and shit she freaks out and thinks shes actually dying and turns invisible in the bathroom. aoi drags her back out to dance and then they have a homoerotic midnight atomicycle ride back to base
lettie: seething because learning vazarin healing backfired and now her stupid void body won't let her manufacture "accidental" injuries. she can't even get a paper cut and ask lettie to kiss it better because she heals too fast. drifter is down horrendous for lettie but between immunity to mild injuries and a fear of rodents its just a disaster. meanwhile lettie likes drifter more than any of the rest of the team because at least drifter's dumbass attempts to play hero on missions don't require intensive care afterwards like arthur's "Tank Incident"
amir: listens and nods while amir explains the gameplay of caliber chicks 2 at 225 wpm for six minutes. tries playing with him but doesn't get the appeal so she just sits around while he plays and offers unhelpful and irrelevant advice whenever he dies. like "you should try parrying" when he loses tetris or "do a bullet jump" in a racing game. she also steals his energy drinks, which is probably good for amir but definitely bad for everyone else who has to deal with hopped-up drifter
quincy: drifter works best with him in the field out of all the hex members. he says it's because she's really good at being annoying and distracting and getting in the enemy's face with a shotgun so he can line up his shots. she says this is true, and thank you very much quincy thats sweet of you. drifter loves to be annoying and quincy is the only one smart enough to weaponize that. drifter is also permanently banned from shooting contests with quincy after she blew a hole in the wall with a plasma shotgun instead of using a normal gun for target practice
eleanor: oscillates between wanting to help eleanor and getting annoyed with her cryptic bullshit. also oscillates between thinking the mind control/telepathy thing is completely terrifying and thinking its awesome (and kind of hot). absolutely cannot stop asking eleanor weird questions and will keep it up until she gets the psychic equivalent of a sucker punch and her nose starts bleeding (which heals before she can get to lettie). sometimes she tells eleanor stories about the lotus.
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magnusbae · 11 months ago
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If you're interested, here's a prompt from the ones who just shared:
"Then why did you do it?" "BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!"
No rush hehe I hope you get rest and have fun writing this!
Now, see, I could have taken this as an open prompt and went with something else, but I know you like dreamling and so I was good.
Thanks for the prompt dear! 💖 Also special thanks goes to @cuubism for actually going through it 🌻🌻🌻 any mistakes are me ignoring her wisdom or straight up forgetting to edit it. one of the two.
Dreamling - some flavor of hurt/comfort(?) 'you dare?' kind of situation going on there, 1,394w
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“I cannot fathom why—” 
Dream halts mid-sentence, his outrage rendering him speechless for a precious moment in which Hob tries, fruitlessly, to come up with a way to placate him, to explain in a way that will somehow pass as acceptable to Dream. The betrayal is tangible in the air, so charged that Hob’s hair actually stands on end as if from static. It feels like standing at your front door, still safe but seeing the hurricane on the horizon, knowing that this false safety can and will change in moments. Hob cannot think of a single thing. 
“You.” Dream grits his teeth so tightly that they scrape loudly, the sound of it making Hob’s own teeth ache uncomfortably. “Know.” Dream says each word as if it takes a great burden to even use human speech and not simply burn a hole in Hob’s mind. Given Dream’s past record, which Hob had recently learnt of, perhaps it does. “You know I do not ask.”
“I know.” Hob winces.
There’s no denying that he knew. Knew full well that asking Dream’s sibling for help was a guaranteed way to not only outrage him, but also land Hob a very creative punishment and the end of their long friendship.
He knew that, and did it anyway. 
Would again, if he had to.
He will not apologize for that.
Dream seems to come to the same conclusion, cheeks reddening in a surprising display of humanity, of lack of control over his appearance. The darkness that creeps into his eyes is distinctly not human. Hob shudders but fixes his eyes on Dream’s, refusing to avert his eyes like a reprimanded youth. He did what he did, and he’s not sorry.
''Then.” To Hob’s surprise, Dream seems to level himself, to school the darkness out of his eyes and ask with a calm that is somehow more unnerving than his rage. “Why did you do it?" There is a finality to this question, like a judge asking for one last confession to tip the scale one way or another. There will be judgment at the end of it, Hob knows. 
“Because…” he sucks in a breath, there’s a ball of nerves in his stomach and frustration, surprising him with its intensity, it feels almost like anger.
Why is he here, searching for excuses for something he believes in wholeheartedly? He doesn’t want to learn firsthand of Dream’s notorious pettiness but he’s not here to play these sort of games. 
The outraged huff is stuck in his throat— he didn’t even realize he had raised his voice this much, not until the ring of it strains his ears. He is practically shouting. And he doesn’t care. 
 ''BECAUSE I LOVE YOU.''
There’s anger in it, frustration, a measure of desperation.
“I bloody love you more than I fear you, that’s why.” His own cheeks burn, itch, tingle with the indignation of it all. “Because I’m a besotted fool who would make a pact with the devil if I had to, if it meant helping you.” He gestures curtly at Dream, then spreads his arm in an exaggerated motion of question. “Why else? Seriously, why else?!” He stops at that, breathing harshly. This is not how he had imagined, not even close. Fuck it. And fuck Lucifer, too. And Dream’s all too pleased sibling, on top.
Through his outburst Hob had stopped paying attention to Dream’s face, only his eyes, latching onto them as if they were his anchor in this universe, the only constant thing, in life, in this.
When he finally looks, really looks, he realizes with a start that Dream’s cheeks are no longer red with anger, that his eyebrows are not as tightly knitted, that his pale lips form a small and lax ‘o’. 
His friend looks taken aback, pacified and…surprised.
Like he couldn’t fathom this being the reason for Hob’s supposed betrayal of trust. Like this was the last rationale he had expected to hear, like he, an Endless being of incomprehensible wisdom, is unable to conceive this simple truth. Like he’s at a loss now.
Like he’s a bloody idiot. Hob shakes his head in amazement, his own anger evaporating as quickly as it came. Yet again he wonders how it is possible to be all knowing and yet so blind, so oblivious to such a simple truth, one Hob didn’t even try too hard to hide, really.
“I know you didn’t want me to,” he softens his voice, speaking more quietly “but I really didn’t have a choice. If I could do this on my own, you know I would have, I’d do worse for you.” He smiles at Dream, he doesn’t even try to sound self-deprecating, it’s the honest truth. He would.
His hand drops by his side and he awaits then, for his judgment.
“You love, me?”
Hob doesn't know how to respond to such a simple question other than–
“I do.”
There’s nothing else to add to that, he said it all, he did it all, even Dream must understand this is no passing fancy. One does not risk their immortal soul for something insignificant. Especially not Hob. One does it when it means everything. And in this case, it did. Dream did. 
Dream seems to again, come to the same conclusion. 
He wilts, shoulders sagging. He looks both much older and much younger at the same time, like this knowledge has stricken him, hurt him.
“You shouldn’t” is all he says. 
“But I do.” Hob answers in return. 
“I see that.” Dream’s voice is a whisper carried by the breeze, gentle, endless, aching. He looks torn in that moment, the judge whose scales no longer measure in any understandable manner. He casts his gaze down. 
“Just let me,” Hob says. He did not come here demanding boons, nor love, only to help Dream. “Forgive my impudent human inclinations to save what I love, and let us continue as we were. Friends. “
“Friends…” Dream repeats after him, as if in disbelief.
Dream opens his mouth to say more—to accept or refuse, Hob doesn’t know—but in that exact moment Matthew half-crashes, half-lands on Dream’s shoulder, a flutter of black feathers and barely muffled curses.
“Boss! Oh for fuck’s sake— I mean cracker’s sake— I mean what the hell— I mean you’re fine—you’re actually okay, I was sure that this time you’re like legit—” he notices Hob then, and cawing loudly he curses again “You actually did it you son of a bitch— you really did!” His wings open excitedly, brushing against Dream’s face, covering it up.
“Matthew.” 
“Uh-” Matthew folds his wings immediately. 
Hob looks at Dream then, the moment is decidedly broken but he has to know if he’d see him again, he can’t just go on not knowing, it’ll drive him insane. “Dream—” he starts, but Dream speaks over him.
“We will discuss this—” Dream’s lips tighten, eyes flicking to Matthew and then back at Hob. “At a later time.” He concludes rather curtly, seemingly deciding that addressing exactly what they will be discussing is not something he wants his Raven to be privy to.
“Right…” Hob murmurs, not speaking further of the topic either. It’s one thing to break Dream’s boundaries over life and death, another entirely over his own impatience and need to know. Dream wanting to see him again at all is already a damn good sign, and Hob will take it, gladly.
“I’ll see you later then, Dream” He uses the name even while not being sure he is still permitted to, that he did not lose the privilege. Dream tilts his head but doesn’t object, instead he nods once and disappears in a swirl of golden sand.
“Show off…” Hob murmurs into the empty air, shaking his head in disbelief. There’s a good feeling in his gut, he should probably be worried but he has a feeling that things will work out, that it all will be just fine. He can’t explain it, but he has learnt to trust his gut over the years. After all, it once led him to believe that he would never die.
It was right then, and it’ll be right now too. He and Dream will figure it out and will be better for it. Just like the other time, just like always. 
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am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months ago
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AITA (30f) for losing my cool/snapping at my roommate and friend (30m, who I will call Kyle) because he was too loud playing games online with his friends?
For context, in case it's needed: this happened a couple months ago, but it's been on my mind. We are both autistic and thus got a late start in our adult lives, in several ways. We have been friends for 10 years and have lived together for roughly 7 of them, on and off (we adopted 2 cats together many years ago, its just easier like this so we dont have to separate them or force one of us to be away from the cats. we love them very much. kind of a coparenting situation lol). Kyle has a salaried tech job that's remote for 70% of the time, and I've recently become a full-time online college student after failing to "make it" without a degree.
We live in a tiny 2-bedroom house that Kyle's family owns. We're only charged for utilities, which is why neither of us are leaving anytime soon (contrary to what you might assume, Kyle does not make a lot of money), especially since it's giving me the opportunity to go to school full-time and not worry about rent. Kyle helps me a lot with groceries and other necessities and I do most of the chores.
So we are always basically on top of each other, and sometimes we get on each other's nerves. We try to be respectful of each others' space, but it's hard because there is not much space in the first place.
I had a really busy day studying and doing homework, which is basically every day for me, since I'm taking 6 classes, 4 of which are STEM classes. So I tend to fall asleep early if I'm not unintentionally pulling all-nighters. I was trying to sleep when this happened around 9pm.
He usually closes his door because he knows he can be very loud, but it doesn't help much. I ended up having to close my own door to try and drown out some of his yelling and laughing, which I understand is going to happen and I try not to hold it against him.
But then he opened his door and left it wide open, so I could hear everything, like he was in the same room. Something really funny must have happened because he started scream-laughing.
Despite this being a semi-regular weekly occurrence, I was really startled. I figured, it probably wasn't intentional and he'll try to quiet down and close his door. I tried to relax and as soon as I started to fall asleep, he did it again, except louder.
This time he didn't stop, he was full-on screaming and yelling at the top of his lungs. Kinda like those game streamers/youtubers where literally all they do is scream the whole time? Very similar. My cat, who was asleep under the blanket on top of me, got startled awake and scratched the shit out of my leg.
I think this all triggered a "fight" response because I was suddenly just so incredibly pissed at Kyle, which I tried to get under control, but he would not stop screaming and I literally could not hear myself think.
(I cannot wear earplugs or have anything in/covering my ears for huge sensory reasons.)
Then my cat wanted to leave the room to see what the commotion was, so I had to open the door, which gave me a direct line of sight to to Kyle at his computer.
I walked over to his doorway. Tried to knock and call his name, but he didnt notice with his noise cancelling headphones on. So I slammed my hand against his door to get his attention & yelled "Hey! Shut the fuck up, Kyle!"
He looked surprised to see me and laughed and kinds waved it off and said "sorry, it got a little intense" and he started to explain what they were doing.
I cut him off and said "I don't care. Shut the hell up." He said he could close his door again, and I said "No, you need to stop. Just stop! You're freaking the cats out too!" and I pointed to my leg with huge bloody scratch marks, shut his door, went back to my room, shut my own door. And of course after that I had adrenaline coursing through my body and I couldn't fall asleep anyway.
After that, I didnt hear a single sound from his room apart from an occasional quiet laugh. I started to feel guilty. I think I overreacted and ruined his fun. I know this is his way of blowing off steam halfway through the work week.
I also felt embarrassed because his friends probably heard me throwing a fit. We have lived with them before, and they're exactly that loud every single night. I have had to ask them to quiet down multiple times, and Kyle told me later on that gave them the impression that I'm. Well, "neurotic, controlling bitch" was heavily implied. Kyle is usually a lot more chill, but being around these guys influences him to act more like them.
But, I guess being loud while having fun isn't a crime, especially when it's not even 10pm yet. I feel like I proved his friends right, maybe.
The next morning I apologized, he apologized too, and everything seems to be good between us, but it's been a while and he's a lot quieter during game night now. He's such a reserved and stressed out person, he hardly ever laughs except when he's playing games, so I feel like I destroyed an important outlet.
I told another friend what happened and she said I didn't overreact at all and she would have flipped out way sooner if her husband did that. (Not sure it's comparable I mean we aren't married lol) And for the record, this friend and her husband were once part of a now-fractured friend group including Kyle and his game night friends, but grew apart, for a lot of reasons, but I think mainly because the Loud Gamer Friends never really grew up while everyone else matured and moved on to different phases in life.
Basically my friends current impression of Kyle is that he is a decent person but incredibly emotionally stunted and feels like he may unintentionally cope in ways that often hurt me without caring as much as she thinks he should. Which....feels partially accurate, I guess. But isn't that placing too much responsibility on him for my wellbeing? He does a lot for me, so it felt like an unfair thing to say.
My mom on the other hand, seems to fully think I am an asshole fun-ruiner. She thinks I should have tried harder to calm down. Maybe I should have approached him sooner - nicely.
And I agree. He probably would have tried his best to oblige even if he couldn't fully succeed. But that's the reason I didn't bother - in the past he has only been able to honor that kind of request for maybe 10-15 minutes, then forgets, and it's exhausting to keep reminding him.
Anyway... what does everyone here think?
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fnich-enthusiast · 5 months ago
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Let's talk Olympics AU Javid because they are my FAVOURITE
It's 2016, Davey's attending his 3rd Olympics in Rio, Jack is attending his first
At this point Davey's an accomplished olympic diver, having won silver for men's 10m and bronze for mixed synchro (3m springboard) at London 2012. He's v much the US diving golden boy, and makes the decision to come out publicly in Rio by pinning a pride flag to his opening ceremony outfit, so while the games are happening he's facing a media storm and is under Intense scrutiny from the media, both from left wing media making him a gay icon and right wing media deciding he's a national embarrassment.
Meanwhile, it's Jack's first olympics. At this point he knows that he's bi but has pretty much made up his mind that he's only going to act on his attraction to women and be, in his mind "functionally straight." Dude's on a rugby team, he's going through it lol.
They meet at the opening ceremony where they're both shitting bricks for different reasons and Jack notices Davey's pin and v quietly tells Davey that he likes it.
Davey takes one look at this bi disaster and goes ok cool so he's deeply closeted
Throughout the games they get closer, but Davey also very consciously keeps them hanging out in public spaces super platonically because he's waking up every day to more invasive and homophobic headlines and messages and comments and he doesn't want Jack to get caught up in the crossfire. Him and Sarah both have to switch comments off on their instagram, and their parents and Les have to go private and remove all identifying information from theirs, it's not good
Meanwhile Jack's reconsidering his "only women" rule
Davey and Sarah win silver at the mixed event, Sarah posts about how proud she is of her brother for competing under the pressure of the media storm, and US diving finally acknowledges everything by reposting her, including the #lovewins caption
I think it's this that gives Jack the courage to come out to Davey, it's not his sport but a US sporting body has officially come out in support of Davey (even if subtly). He tells Davey how he's in awe of how strong he's been in the face of everything and how he doesn't even seem scared, and Davey confides in him how Terrified he's been the entire games. It's very obvious to Davey that Jack has a thing for him, and that it's reciprocated, but he doesn't say anything about it because honestly, Jack needs time
In the absolute cuntiest move ever, Davey wins gold in the men's individual 10m, and captions it one of the homophobic headlines.
I can just see Davey pulling a Simone Biles level petty post with him biting both a silver and gold medal captioned something like "David Jacobs' woke agenda is an embarrassment to Team USA"
Jack is so deeply in love lol
It's after Jack's team loses in the quarterfinals that he decides that he just absolutely needs to tell Davey he likes him because girls would be easier but he Cannot lose Davey. They both live in NYC so decide to try but date in secret because Jack's not ready to come out yet, and Davey's not ready for more media attention
By Tokyo 2020 (or 2021 really lol) it's a pretty open secret that they're together. Davey gets more attention than Jack bc lbr some random American rugby sevens players would not be dealing with too much media attention outside of the olympics but Davey is like the American Tom Daley. Jack becomes the captain of the men's sevens team and makes it clear to management from the get go that he's dating a man and will be joining a team supportive of that or he won't play at all. They've not made a statement about being together by the start of the games, but they are openly going to each other's events wearing customised tshirts and stuff so it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that they're very in love
Jack once again doesn't medal, but Davey medals in both men's individual 10m (silver) and mixed 3m springboard (gold). They make their official "statement" after the games, which is really just a video Jack takes of Davey adding his medals to his display case when they get home which Jack captions something along the lines of "the only reason I haven't medaled yet is that my boyfriend's hogging all the space in the display case"
They get married in 2022 and go into the 2024 and are So Openly each other's biggest fan. Jack's team wins a silver medal and the cameras cut from the team celebrations to Davey openly ugly crying in the stands and making little heart hands at Jack. Jack posts a photo with some cheesy caption like “only the second best thing I’ve won at the Olympics <3” and Davey gets to go from a scared kid being ruthlessly attacked for being gay to posting a photo of himself kissing his husband in front of the Olympic rings
I love them your honour
OG post and bestie credits here
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yuurei20 · 10 months ago
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Translation from Twisted Wonderland the 2nd novel: Spelldrive Practice Match (pt5/5)
"Spelldrive is a timed sport, and a considerable amount of time still remains. Already battered, it seems unlikely that Cater and the others will make it to the end safely.
This is beyond just a one-sided match: this is bullying the weak.
Yuuya turns to leave. ‘I’ll call someone right away, so just wait a little longer!’
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‘Hey, where do you think you’re going!’
A nearby Savanaclaw student firmly seizes Yuuya’s shoulder. Yuuya cries out in pain and fear, and—unexpectedly—Leona calls them off. ‘Feel free,’ Leona says, his tone gentle, watching Yuuya.
‘Call anyone you like. I wonder who will come.’ Leona begins counting on his fingers. ‘A reliable teacher? A wonderful friend from your class? Or perhaps that naive tyrant, the pride of Heartslabyul?’
Cater’s expression changes. After a few moments, Yuuya realizes that he is talking about Riddle.
‘Whoever it is—do as you like. We’d love for you to prove for us that we are simply playing a game of Spelldrive. But there’s no telling how intense things will get while you’re gone.’
It is a blatant threat, but there is no counter that anyone can make. Yuuya’s face contorts in frustration, and it is the same for them all.
It is just as Leona says: it is only a game. A one-sided game against the much stronger Savanaclaw. No matter what injuries they suffer, they will never be able to prove without a doubt that it was due to excessive violence. This was probably Leona’s idea from the start.
They never should have challenged an opponent like this. Looking out over the field, alternately glowing white under the lights and burnt with shadow, an overwhelming powerlessness strikes Yuuya through the heart.
Magicless as he is he cannot stand in for anyone, and he has neither the power nor the wit to stop the game. But he cannot simply stand silently by and watch this violence, this conflict—it is terrifying.
Taking a deep breath, Yuuya makes up his mind. Somehow, he has to call someone who can stop this fight. As he moves towards the exit, the yellow shirt of a Savanaclaw student fills Yuuya’s field of vision.
He closes his eyes instinctively, but no one grabs his arm this time. Instead a low voice says, "Move."
A student steps forward, standing in front of Yuuya; towering over him. He is a tall beast-person with broad shoulders and a broad chest, to the point that he stands out even amongst the students of Savanaclaw.
With a gently shifting, long, silver tail, he confidently steps out onto the field.
‘Ah,’ Deuce exclaims upon seeing him. ‘Jack…!’
A muscular student with an athletic build. A beast-person from Savanaclaw with large, pointed ears. He must be the Jack they had been searching for.
‘What are you all doing?’
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hotdaemondtargaryen · 4 months ago
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PHIA SABAN INTERVIEWED FOR CONTENTMODE MAGAZINE.
CONGRATULATIONS ON HOUSE OF THE DRAGON! HOW HAS THE PROCESS BEEN SO FAR?
"Thank you! It’s a cool thing."
"When we’re working on it we’re in our own little microcosm with each other and those characters, and now it’s coming out and we’re seeing it all link up and become something else."
"It’s very new to me."
"Acting on screen still feels very new to me."
"I am so lucky to get to work with this group of people, they are so clever and loving."
"Recently we’ve been promoting the show and have been asked for opinions and explanations about our characters and the story."
"I’ve found it a new and funny facet of the job, to be asked sometimes to represent myself and speak from the character and for the bigger picture."
"It can feel different from acting, where you engage with the contradictions and spend more time with the mystery and the magic than the answers."
"I guess I’m saying that I’ve found this process contains multitudes."
"And watching the show is surreal — there are all my pals in wigs!"
MANY DIE-HARD GAME OF THRONES FANS HAVE READ THE BOOK SERIES AND ANTICIPATE PLOT POINTS IN THE TELEVISION SERIES. HOW DO YOU PROVIDE A FRESH TAKE ON FAMILIAR MATERIAL?
"It’s major to be part of something that people already feel passionate about, but it’s also exciting to have the chance to subvert expectations."
"It’s fun to make up little secrets that only you know about."
"As a viewer, I always like to be surprised anyway."
"I think it’s important (and fun) to have some irreverence for the genre so that you’re not patronizing your audience."
"The hope is to be part of something that challenges people!"
YOU'VE FOUND SUCCESS IN THE FANTASY AND DRAMATIC GENRES. ARE THERE ANY OTHER GENRES YOU'D LIKE TO EXPLORE?
"Yes! I miss being in plays so much."
"I cannot wait to be in the theater again."
"I’ve never been in a film, I’d love to make an independent one."
"Oh! To be in something people call a ‘picture’!"
"Recently I’ve been fantasizing about learning motion-capture and playing some sort of animal or creature."
"I’d love to be part of a suburban coming-of-age film, like the ones I obsessed over growing up."
"I’d like to do a great limited series, an intense crime one."
"And I could narrowly avoid being eaten by a shark, or an alien."
"I have dreams of doing a time-spanning project."
"I’d like to be the voice of an animation!"
"I‘d love to have a go at the present day."
"And maybe a dystopian future."
"And a Western?"
"I always want to do something funny."
"And strange."
"There are so many TA and filmmakers I admire (I won’t list them but they’re always being lovingly scribbled in my notebook.)"
"I’ll learn Norwegian and French for them!"
"I’m excited to keep finding new people too."
"More than all these, there are so many more things I hope to do, if I’m lucky."
"Not that I give it much thought or anything…"
HAS YOUR REAL LIFE INSPIRED YOUR APPROACH TO YOUR CHARACTER IN ANY WAY?
"Sometimes a character can be an expansion pack for your real life, like a new way to see things."
"So maybe it’s more that the fantasy inspires your real life!"
"It’s been really fun to explore Helaena’s interests."
"I’ve thought quite a lot about bugs."
"I get a huge kick out of investigating how her mind works and finding all the ways her’s overlaps with mine."
"I do lots of people-watching, which is great because now when I’m staring at people on the bus I can tell myself that I’m ‘working’."
WHILE FANTASY CAN SEEMS UNTETHERED FROM REALITY, DO YOU THINK IT CAN REFLECT THE REAL WORLD?
"Haha I hope so, otherwise that would be boring!"
"I suppose these stories are full of archetypes, which should mirror universal truths."
"But maybe that’s just good TV?"
WHAT TYPES OF NARRATIVED DO YOU FIND YOURSELF DRAWN TOWARDS WHEN READING SCRIPTS AND CHOOSING ROLES?
"Something surprising and honest that doesn’t tell me what to think!"
"And I love it when a script lets sad things be funny."
WHAT INSPIRES YOU AS AN ACTOR?
"Other actors, a lot."
"On a good day, almost everything can…"
"That might be one of the best things about being an actor."
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diakittyau · 18 days ago
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Theme of Kuchizuke's story.
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Hello. ( ̄▽ ̄)ノ I wanted to talk about the themes, personal experiences and fears I put into the first part of Deluding Moonlight AU, Kuchizuke.
First of,
! spoiler warning for the animation ! Please watch it before reading.
And second, the topics that I'm going to cover, as well as some scenes from animation, may be unpleasant to some people. I'll be covering: abuse, unhealthy relationships, depression and death.
With all that out of the way, let's begin.
Here's a fact: I'm not into shipping, even though the story of Deluding Moonlight is heavily tied to one character having an infatuation for another. I don't care about fanon romanization, kissing stuff or anything like that. I have favorite duos, such as Sonic & Amy, Knuckles & Rouge, Shadow & Maria, none of which I see in the romantic relationships and just enjoy their canonical dynamics. Some of them are funny, some comforting, I don't need to see them kissing or something. So if that's the case, how did I get to making this story? At first the idea of vampire Rouge just randomly came to mind when I listened to the song "BUCK-TICK — Kuchizuke". I thought it might be an interesting idea to make an animation of it. But since the song is heavily implied of love, obsession and passion, I had to think of a plot line that can accompany it. When it comes to characters, for me it's always important to keep their initial characterizations without significantly changing it. I probably should add that I'm only into Japanese Sonic, so I'm staying true to their original Japanese characterizations. Not including anything from the American side, as comics, tv shows and even dubs. And yes, there's no official Sonic couples (I'm talking games only) and I'm not going into fanon. What should I do? Well, there is one thing I can work with, and that is one-sided love. And thankfully, Rouge has it. On multiple occasions she's shown to have interest in Knuckles, flirting and mocking him. And as I said, I enjoy their fun dynamic.
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So now on to building up the story. We're talking vampires, so deception and no mutual love were main points that I focused on. And that's where my personal stuff comes to play. The first one is:
Fear of abusive relationships.
As a child born in Russia, in a typical fashion I saw the horrors of dysfunctional family. I never got physical abuse myself from it, but I've been neglected by one parent and saw the suffering of another. Since the early childhood I didn't have normal ideas about love and relationships, because I simply didn't saw any. My psyche was affected, and I live with the trauma and fear ever since. I've never been in a relationship. All my life I could only analyze it by looking at others, which gave me an idea about what love is and that entering into a relationship with someone was a very important step. This cannot be neglected and done haphazardly. This is a union of two people, and understanding, compromise, and consideration of personal interests are important in it. Otherwise things can end up pretty badly.
Isn't that right?
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And that's the part of me that's been reflected on Knuckles, but more on that later. First, we need to understand what parts of me were reflected on Rouge, and it was:
Depression.
I was in a depressive state for at least seven years. While depressive episodes have occasionally faded away, they reached their peak two years ago. That's when I succumbed to seclusion, intensive self-flagellating, imposter syndrome, feelings of rejection and uselessness. And for the first time I felt desperate for love. I have had a difficult time understanding my own feelings before, but back them it just got 200 times worse. I didn’t understand whether I felt love for the first time or was it something else completely? Did I really want to love, or did I just want someone to pity and comfort me? Do I really have friends and people I can trust, and do they accept me or just use me? I didn't know myself anymore. It's been hard and long way of figuring myself out, and only the huge possibility that I had autism explained everything that had happened to me throughout my life. That's when I accepted myself and was able to climb out of this deep hole that seemed bottomless. There's also another thing that really bothers me since my early years:
The fear of time passing.
I don't like changes, I don't like growing old and fading, I don't want to lose something or someone because their time has come. I fear death, future, the unknown. I never wanted my video-game characters to die and my own stories have always been stuck at one particular time without much moving forward. That's why I have always had a deep connection with vampires. That and the aesthetic, of course. That's should be all the main point, now let's see how all this falls on the characters. Starting with Knuckles.
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Now I should mention, that out of all the Sonic character I can relate to Knuckles the most. His worldview, his social skills, his dedication to his life's work, his short-temper and so forth. And this is perfect, since it is so much easier for me to stay true to his character. Back to the personal stuff: several times I was in situations where some people wanted to date me. The thing was, I hadn't felt any attraction to any of these people, it was simply beyond my understanding. Not to mention I didn't know them for a long time, but after a few short conversations it seemed like they were seriously considering me their girlfriend. I treated them quite indulgently and friendly at first, but very soon I caught myself thinking that they just irritate me, and my attitude towards them was already beginning to border on hate. I just wanted them to leave me alone with their imposition of relationships. That personal experience pretty much resonates with Knuckles' role in Kuchizuke. He's been forced to fall in love with Rouge by her dark magic, and the latter didn't even took his own feeling into consideration. And his personal boundaries were not taken into account either.
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To Rouge, Knuckles just been the possession. This approach to getting his love only led to hatred and ended up in the tragedy.
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I kept Rouge's mysterious nature with her own goals and ways to achieve them. Back to the personal stuff once more: as I established before, I have a hard time understanding my own feelings, and at the peak of my depression I didn’t know how to deal with negative emotions at all. Perhaps that's why I felt the need for a soulmate for the first time. But was it love? Now it seems to me more that my special interest simply fell on a certain person who filled the voids in my soul and brightened up the endless stream of negative thoughts. Even so, I find my past self quite selfish, because I only wanted my own happiness with that person, even though the feeling obviously weren't mutual. However, it is also worth clarifying that I didn't have enough courage or social skills even to make any moves, most of the times simply living in my own world of illusions. But when I got out of depression, this not-love of mine simply vanished. So, this is were the theme comes from. Obsession and the desire to be with someone who can fill your mental emptiness. Of course, regardless of the opinion of this very person. The romanticized scenes of a "dream date" were mear delusion, having nothing to do with the real feelings of a person she loved.
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I will explore Rouge's character more in the future, so keep in mind some of the stuff I said.
In conclusion.
Through this tragic tale of one-sided love I really wanted to say something simple yet very important:
Love is not a fairy tale.
and relationships are a very serious step for both parties, where understanding, compromises and trust are important. Love in this story is a complete self—deception and manipulation, with selfish motives and a sad outcome.
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kdwg · 1 year ago
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Accepted or Declined? [Dottore x Reader x Pantalone]
First, English is not my mother tongue so maybe i make mistake in grammar or anything, sorry
Secondly, i played chess when i was 5,6 idk and now i almost forgot all of them, everything mentioned chess in here maybe not right
So sorry again... i am really bad at writing in eng
p/s: Dottore does not appear directly, Reader has no feelings for Pantalone
You wait in the eerily quiet surroundings. All the lights in the main hall have turned off, leaving you alone with the weak light of an oil lamp just enough to see the chess set. Fear and impatience are increasing in waves as your fingers tend to tap harder on the marble floor.
When will Dottore finally complete the experiment?
Once again, thoughts of him flashed through your mind, distracting you from the chess match laid out before you. You take a deep breath, feeling the refreshing cold flow into your trachea, flowing into your thoughts like a cataclysm that extinguished all concerns about him. You move the white pawn up 1 space, as programmed, and after completing one step, you rotate the chessboard 180 degrees. You put all your focus on the chess position in front of you, you repeat what you want to do out loud, win yourself, win yourself, win yourself... However, you cannot understand the blurred black and white chess pieces right in front of your eyes replaced by the image of a blue-haired man. Helpless, you can only sigh, knock everything down and rearrange the two sides into two straight rows.
Dottore reigns in your mind like an incurable plague. You threw the pocket watch into a corner somewhere, stopping yourself from waiting so you wouldn't suddenly open it and then be disappointed how long it's been since he's started that damn experiment. All the waiting time is now counted in chess matches, but at thirteen you stopped counting and the games after that are just mechanical, dealing with yourself. You begin to think he had left, half of you believe that Dottore was a man of his word, but the other half suspect that he had completed the experiment and then left, forgetting his promise. Speaking of credibility, Dottore was like that, but I don't know if he has changed with everyone, or just with you. 
Beyond credibility, many things have changed.
You sigh, you should focus on something else to wait for him. Just as you were about to place your pawn on E4, a deep voice ring out at the front door of the hall:
“Sicilian defense as usual?”
You can easily recognize the owner of the voice and it is not good to have the company of other harbingers except number 2. Luckily the oil lamp light is not bright enough to illuminate the discomfort on your face. At that moment, you quickly stand up, bow properly and reply in a very neutral tone:
“Mr. Regrator, it is a pleasure to meet you, even though it is midnight.”
“What I said, you can call me Pantalone.”
You want to say something sarcastic, but this bastard will always respond with an obnoxious, peaceful smile, not paying any attention. Finally, you smile, your knuckles digging into the back of your shirt even more intensely when Pantalone does not leave but sits down opposite you.
"I didn't know you would spend your precious time here with me so late at night instead of a good night's sleep. Do you have something you want to discuss? It's definitely not due to poor chess."
Pantalone still keep his usual smile, he turn the chessboard so that the white pieces are on his side.
"A match, shall we?"
This man is definitely not here just for the reason of having a chess match for entertainment. Surely Pantalone is thinking about something, you wonder if you should find an excuse to refuse and then leave because any more lingering with him will only be disadvantageous. You want to dissect the man in front of you, you want to know what he is planning behind that gentle face. What was the reason for Pantalone's approach? Why you and not Dottore? Looking at yourself, you can't find anything that would be useful for Pantalone.
Thousands of questions constantly appear in my mind, neurons are pushed to maximum performance to encode as quickly as possible. The soles of your feet tingle and itch like an ant making nests, and your body was urging you to run away. Run away for what? You do not know.
"Let's sit down."
Your body stiffen as Pantalone spoke. It was supposed to be a reassurance but underneath the layers of subtext you felt it was more like an order. You sit down forcibly, your fingers gripping the hem of your shirt until they turn white.
"It's just for fun. I definitely won't punish you if you lose."
You feel regretful that you didn't choose to leave.
"What's wrong, Dottore doesn't allow his little friend to socialize with other people?"
Pantalone laughs very politely and sarcastically, you hate the way every time you met him he always mentioned Dottore. In the past, you didn't mind, but right now, anyone mentioning his name makes your anger flare up. However, who can you blame for when you have become his shadow for so long, when did you lose your own identity and choose to stand behind?
"If you want to talk to Dottore, you should find the owner."
"Okay but the main topic tonight is you."
This time Regrator laughed heartily, not the commercial smile in meetings. You want to correct yourself but Pantalone doesn't give you the chance:
"Do you ever use any opening other than the Sicilian defense?"
Pawn to D4.
"Sometimes I open with The Ruy-Lopez"
Pawn to D5.
"So two openings, why don't you try some others? The other openings didn’t bring victory?"
"I tried..."
You're a little confused when you remember the last time you used other openings except the Sicilian defense and The Ruy-Lopez. You suddenly realize it's been a long time, maybe since you were an Akademiya scholar. That's when you started practicing chess, choosing the suitable openings to master them.
"I tried Ponziani and the Slav defense but it wasn't effective."
If you don't want to say you lost badly to Dottore when you were trying to find a third opening.
"As a scientist, I see you have no tendency to innovate."
This time you couldn't hide the irritation in your tone, but you were calm enough not to express anything too extreme.
"What do you mean by that?"
Even though you are not an official scientist, you chose to become Dottore's assistant, but each of those words severely attacked those in the field of research and development.
"Don't get angry," Pantalone seemed happier when you no longer remained neutral in your actions and words, "I mean, sometimes you should step out of your safe zone, choose a bold decision that can end the chain of thoughts: worries, hesitation and negativity."
Pawn to C4.
Looking at the situation in front of you, you can partly feel the suspicious message he is conveying. What Pantalone wants to say has also appeared in your subconscious countless times. They appear every time you realize that you were slowly drifting off to sleep while sitting on the chair waiting for him to return every night. They persistently whisper in your ear when Dottore and you argued about unnecessary issues. They become a ghost that resides in your left chest when you crossed out past your birthday on the calendar, reminding you that Dottore has completely forgotten you.
Pantalone can clearly see your trembling hand playing with the lock of hair on your cheek.
"You know, there are things that have to be sacrificed for a greater purpose."
Your gut is tearing, you feel bile rising into your throat, you don't know how to show exact expression to him. You are becoming more sensitive than ever, 7 parts of you are agreeing with Pantalone's words but 3 parts are shaking your spirit, you should not trust him, you must choose Dottore. You raised your face, eyes unable to hide the fear that was locked on Pantalone's every move.
Pantalone walks towards you, bend down to face level, his fingers wearing a sparkling ring trying to touch your cheek but you backed away to avoid him.
He makes a fake sad face, not giving up, his ten fingers cupping your face and pulling you closer. You try to pull Pantalone's wrist away, but your limbs feel as weak as plants.
You are not afraid of Pantalone, the terror that is coming at this moment is the competing thoughts of Dottore going on in your head. You know Pantalone is not the cause of your rebellious thoughts, they have always existed in your mind every time Dottore's credibility dropped. But you always pushed them away, burying them all deep in some corners, overpowering them with the illusion of justifying yourself to Dottore. And, Pantalone is the catalyst, igniting the fire that allows them to escape and burn down the stronghold you have built. Why does Pantalone do this? Does Pantalone know that Dottore is an unambiguous person? Even if Dottore still has feelings for you and if his plan of separating was successful, Dottore’s collapse because of love is still extremely unreasonable. So what is the key to doing this?
"Look at me."
The sweet words make you shiver, he brushes your strands of hair into your ear. You can feel his steady breathing on your nose, it took your breath away. His purple eyes under long eyelashes seem to illuminate your frustrated heart. They consider, open each layer of skin, see through thousands of thoughts that are tangled together like a ball of wool. But those eyes did not untie every knot, they burned like a volcano, burning everything to ashes. They leave your mind as hazy white spaces, and in your eyes everything is gradually fading, only the silhouette of the ninth harbinger remains. Rough gloved fingers touch your lips, Pantalone smiles happily, he parts your teeth, and blows air into your mouth. You startle and cough when the smell of cigarettes hits you. You are not aware that you had stopped breathing since he held your face. You want to remove your face from his hands, but they are on your waist. He leans in so that his nose touches your skin. You are irritated, your eyebrows furrow to show your displeasure for him to let go. As for Pantalone, he seems a bit regretful when he didn't put two fingers in your mouth.
"Accepted or Declined?"
You blush when you feel his lips playing with yours, you blame it on your anger from waiting for Dottore and the banker's weird joke. You remove Pantalone's hand, quickly stand up and lay your king down.
"I resign."
You leave, leaving Pantalone laughing happily at the game he had created. You leave, this time you didn't care if Dottore was still at the palace.
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faislittlewhiteraven · 1 year ago
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Undertale Yellow: An amazing fangame with one glaring thing I hate about it (that I need to rant about or else I'm going to go insane).
As the title says, Undertale Yellow was a game I really enjoyed playing. Lots of fun dialogue and designs, utterly fantastic art and animation (holy hell that Flowey fight! <3 <3 <3), great music and feels, etc. Seriously it deserves a ton of praise, not only as a fully completed fangame that took years of development, but as genuinely amazing prequel to one of my favorite games of all time.
...Unfortunately. Much as I truly enjoyed playing through the majority of the game, when I finished the True Pacifist route I was intensely unhappy with how that went and while the credits scenes and funeral for Cover helped ease some of the worst of it, I cannot help but wonder who the flipping f$%& in the development team thought presenting Clover's suicide as the 'just and happy' ending that all the friend characters accept with barely any argument was a good idea?!
Now to clarify: I went into Undertale Yellow knowing that Clover was going to die and that there were good odds their death was going to be self sacrificial or involve suicide. Undertale Yellow is a prequel to Undertale after all and children being murdered and/or sacrificing themselves for the greater good of lovable monster kind is an established part of the setting.
I came in knowing this game was bound to end tragically. I was excited to see how this game would pull that inevitable tragedy off while exploring the Yellow soul's theme of Justice and staying true to Undertale's established canon.
And all the way right up to the end of the True Pacifist ending I truly thought they'd nailed it: The constant pressure of the monsters suffering and being trapped in the Underground despite their sweet and earnest natures, Dalv's clear issues regarding a human, Starlow's unintentional reinforcement of the 'one sacrifice for the greater good' idea with his trolley problem reenactment, the repeated back to back betrayals from characters who should be friends (the Feisty Five, Starlow, Ceraba) hurting Clover instead, the dull realization in universe for Clover that all their efforts to find the missing human children were all for nothing...
It was fantastic. There was a real sense of looming dread for me, seeing all those moments and just knowing in my gut that after the desperate struggle with the agonized and grieving Ceraba, ranting about how monster kind is doomed as it stands, that Clover would start thinking of sacrificing their life for monster kind, especially when their 'sense of Justice' at the start of the game had them willingly jump into a gaping pit they couldn't have possibly have known the height of, for the sake of mission they (according to Flowey) easily abandon when offered a loving home instead. (aka implying not so great things about how much they value their own life)
So. With all that 'hyped for tragedy' in mind, there I am at the True Pacifist ending. I've just spared Ceraba, the friends are all arguing as to how to keep Clover (and possibly any future humans who fall) safe and Clover begins to go into something of a zone out, thinking about all the things they've heard and seen over the course of their adventure.
This is it! I think to myself as I watch it play out. This is where Clover, after everything they've been through, makes the tragic yet understandable mistake of running away from their friends and confronting Asgore just as Flowey kept encouraging them to! Not to fight and bring Asgore to justice but to try talking him down and when they fail that, offering up their life to help and 'save' their friends even as the narrative will (matching Undertale) will make it clear that this is a mistake and only hurts everyone involved, just like every suicide and child murder in Undertale hurts everyone involved until Frisk is able to end the cycle of pain by rejecting the Kill or be Killed premise and setting the monsters free! Wow, I can't believe it, they set it up so well, what a perfect way to tie into Undertale's greater narrative via tragic prequel, I love this eeeeee!
Except of course that's not what happens.
My first hint something is off is when the quotes Clover's 'remembering' in their little bubble start being way too positive for the set up (also there's nothing from the trolley problem section). The second is when the music shifts from quiet to holy and then outright happy.
And third is when Clover snaps out of it and point blank tells their friends they choose to die. Now, I'm getting a little confused and wary at this but alright, this is a pretty long sequence already but I guess we get to have one final hope moment before Clover somehow gets away from their friends to die (maybe Flowey if not Asgore?)-
-and then I am left absolutely flabbergasted as the friends who just spent the last huge chunk of the game trying to protect Clover/getting talked out of killing them because 'its not right' end up agreeing with Clover's decision after a pitiful amount of arguing against it (where the utterly stupid 'there's no other option' reasoning is used as the primary reasoning despite all the other options being very clearly stated just moments ago), before the woman who's entire massive trauma arc that is centered around her accidentally killing her own child out of blind faith for 'the greater good', proceeds to assist Clover with their suicide (who she clearly views as a surrogate child despite her best attempts not to) while the other characters meekly say goodbye, give hugs and leave all while bittersweet but mostly sweet 'great job honey, this sucks but we're proud of you' music plays (also Flowey says stuff but like, its Flowey so frankly he could say anything and it'd be fine. He's not the issue here).
...Wow.
What a screwed up way for that to end. Like, I clearly get the 'idea' that Clover is meant to be noble and good and such but like, really? A fan game of Undertale (where one of the main ending messages was 'Don't kill and don't be killed', where a child's suicidal attempts to free monster kind lead to every major tragedy in the game, and where suicide was repeatedly shown to only make things worse through Asgore and Alphys in numerous neutral endings) is the game that decides having its protagonist's pointless self sacrifice should be honored and treated as a good ending by the narrative?????
How did none of the otherwise clearly brilliant people working on this miss the very bad, no good implications of Clover's friends being talked into letting them kill themselves and having the narrative frame it as anything but the worst end?????
I have many, many questions. And concerns. And...
Look, I do get it. Undertale Yellow is still a fangame. There are going to be weird notes in the tone due to different writers and such, and I should just be happy that the game was finished it at all, and accept that this god awful scene is probably just the result of its creators really, really wanting their beloved characters to go out as kindly (and beautifully drawn/animated) as possible with all the hugs and feels of canon Undertale without taking into account how much the very different context might warp the tone and the characterizations of everyone in the entire scene.
But like. God damn. There is something very off putting about not letting brave kind Martlet refuse to take this as an answer and then finding she actually can't stop it happening (and no her saying that after like two sentences from 'Ceraba who's judgement about the human sucks' doesn't count). About Starlow not recognising he and his posse might've had something to do with why Clover is thinking this. About Ceraba not on some level going 'IF THIS IS YOUR CHOICE THEN WHY DIDN'T YOU LET ME USE YOU TO SAVE KANAKO?!' Edit: Also a totally waste of prequel opportunity not to let Asgore visibly make the worst choices we canonly know he made on screen. Yes, he gets to stab Clover in the Flawed!Pacist route but Clover's trying to shoot him in that one; the fact we don't get to see him stab a 'far too willing to die for their friends and not defending themselves' Clover as the friend trio can do nothing to stop it from happening feels like such a cop out I swear XD
I'm all for 'Clover dies willingly' at the end of the True Pacifist but they way they did it was just... Really ugh in a way I'm finding tricky to word and I'm honestly shocked I haven't seen more people point it out (though admittedly that might be because I haven't really looked around much). ...So yeah. I know its too late to change said ending but really kinda hoping at some point one of the Undertale Yellow team realizes this might be an issue and thinks to add a content warning in the game's opening or something because it could really use one of those. Also that for any future projects they do, they happen to do a little more research into how to avoid accidentally glorify suicide as opposed to having it as a tragedy because damn they did not manage that here whatsoever.
---
ANYWAY, with all that rant finally out of my head some other stuff about Undertale Yellow I be feeling strongly:
Flowey's boss battle and the lead up to it is incredible and without a doubt makes the neutral route the most amazing well crafted route in the game. 10/10 may have already mentioned this in the massive rant above but if so gonna repeat it anyway because it's just that damn good.
Genocide route being a deconstruction of the 'disproportionate revenge is justice' 90s Anti Hero is very cool theme wise but the lack of the lack of stuff like notes in shops saying 'please don't kill my family' and monsters with less screen time getting more fleshed out drags it down a little, as does Clover not actually choking on dust or getting attacked by the human souls or something at the very end. Really do love the Martlet battle flashback moments and Axel's horrifically timed confession scene though.
The general uselessness of the ACT menu in big 'endurance' fights as well as the lack of 'alternative sparing ACTS' makes fights a lot less fun than they could be and I found myself a lot less willing to use them in general as a result despite them being my favorite thing about Undertale. Did still adore what fun stuff was in them though so I think it's just a case of them being a tad too out of focus compared to the bullet hell gameplay (which I'm not that good at) for my tastes.
Pacifist route could've really used some more optional hangouts and/or letters from the main friends. As is, the peak 'hang out' part of the game for me was the nap room I spent maybe two minutes in, and Dalv especially could've benefitted a ton from a bit more presence (I got more interaction from Mo and the rabbit who's tongue was stuck to a pole and I'm not happy about that? If nothing else not getting to see the inside of Martlet's house or help Dalv build his new home feel like lost opportunities).
Personal pet peeve and nothing too serious but not a fan of Asgore not getting the kill on Clover outside of Flawed Pacifist. Makes sense on most routes (glares at T!Pacifist again) given the way the plot is set up and all but given Toby Fox has repeatedly stated Asgore killed all the humans who fell post Chara it just drives me nuts XD (As does the poor Blue Soul getting treated as a killer/evil but like, I can see where people are coming on that one and Undertale Yellow uses that to amp up Chujin's nightmare fuel vibes fantastically so I shall reluctantly congratulate that theory's use there and steel myself for the inevitable 'wait you're using Undertale Yellow lore but Axis didn't kill Integrity?' questions that will be posted on my 'will eventually be posted' Undertale fanfics XDDDD)
Love all the main cast, especially Martlet, and I am way too hyped for the day Undertale Yellow and its main cast get their own fandom tags on AO3.
...Kanako's death was incredibly stupid and avoidable but like, that's kind of what I like about it? I really also wanna know which Amalgamite she became (I'm thinking probably the one that tucks Frisk in to sleep and pats them on the head because of her and Ceraba's little 'going to sleep' game but like, I could see a very heart wrenching case for her being part of So Cold as well).
Anyone reading this who somehow hasn't played Undertale Yellow should really stop reading this and go play the game. It's free, its (one major thematic issue I have moral objections to aside) pretty decently written, and hey, more Undertale stuff to have fun making fanworks with <3
Goddamn has Undertale Yellow kicked my drive to write Undertale fanfic into overload XD Thank you Undertale Yellow team for helping me get all fired up again and sorry about all the grr but dang it, it needed to be said and now that it's out of my system I can throw myself into finding ways to incorporate your settings and characters into fanworks of my own (admittedly the AU elements might make things kinda tricky -Asgore having to kill EVERY human child even more so- but that nifty little detail of early Royal Guard Martlet having and being willing to abuse her access to the Hotland Lab allows me so many ways to have Chujin be a well meaning awful person and I am living for it!) <3 <3 <3
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