#I have never obsessed over a character before. And the first character who I fixate on has only like. Three known personality traits

[magicalgirlfia]

Analysis of Everything We Know About Unika

All >15 spoken words and 3 images of it. This is over 2085 words long.

Unika! She’s everyone’s favorite guilty gear catgirl! Or at least my favorite guilty gear catgirl. And the only catgirl. And also probably won’t wear her catgirl goggles for a majority of the series but whatever.

This will be a comprehensive analysis of her design and name, followed by theories about what it all means. Please enjoy this as it took me working on and off for 3 days.

Possible Name Origins:

I believe while her name could be in reference to the Filipino rock/pop band “ÚNiCA” or maybe New Zealand pop artist Anika Rose Moa who is also known as “DJ Unika”, due to the word unika/única being a real word in a a few languages, there are many artists who use the name Unika or Única in their discography. I picked the ones who seem most likely based off of my limited research but it could just be an original name with no music inspirations.

As mentioned, the word “Unika” is a word in different languages, specifically meaning “unique” in Esperanto and Swedish.

It is derivative of the Latin word for unique; unicus meaning “the only one”. The feminine form of that word is “unica”. Similarly, unica is also the origin of the Spanish feminine form of “único” (also meaning alone, [the] only one, or sole) is única. However, from my research, all these words use a “u” sound rather than a “yu” sound making the actual validity of all of that shaky, but I’m betting on it being her name origin if any of these are correct.

Please note that I’ve mentioned “Unica” as well as “Unika” for reasons that I will bring up later.

Design Analysis:

Weapon:

Getting the obvious out of the way, Unika’s big ass sword is an equally big ass AC/DC reference.

The design motif of “AC/43” just means AC/DC, with D and C being the 4th and 3rd letters of the alphabet. The word “thunderstruck” written on the sword is also a AC/DC song. (I know this is only for canon information and I should keep speculation to the speculation station, but an album by AC/DC is called “High Voltage” which connects to the lightning theme as well.)

This is all almost certainly because the origin of the name “AC/DC” is “Alternating Current/Direct Current” which are the 2 types of electric current, obviously in reference to her use of electric magic.

The number 13, specifically written in French, is a motif seen on both her weapon and her outfit as well. Also, as you might know if you know enough English to get this far you probably also know that the 1st and 3rd letters of the alphabet are “A” and “C”. It’s all connected IT’S ALL CONNECTED—

One of the treize has the text “Devil's Dozen” underneath it. A devil's dozen is just another term for a baker's dozen…being 13 items rather than 12.

The word “caution” if it is a reference will probably be nigh impossible to figure out given how common the word is. There isn’t an AC/DC song called caution, just one called “Danger” which is, let’s be honest, 100% unrelated.

Also, I would be remiss not to mention the fact that her weapon looks eerily like an electric version of the Junkyard Dog

which in my opinion makes the possible connections to Sol and his story…well…more. It can also shoot projectiles, similar to said Junkyard Dog or Outrage.

Clothing:

13 (or “Trieize” as again, it’s always written out in French) we just mentioned. The fact that it is in French could be interpreted as a connection to Illyria which contains France (yuck!) but I don’t actually completely know the significance yet.

The brand(?) Enide is seen a few times. Enide is a character in Arthurian romance, which it is mostly likely referencing, don’t have any clue what meaning (if any) it could have.

The two seen instances of Einde have text underneath them. One of them is just saying that she has a gen 4 tactical jacket which I very much doubt matters, and the 2nd says

“When lightning strikes, you will face your sin and one dawn will come”

Lighting obviously references the electricity stuff that I just spent a whole section talking about. However “One Dawn” is the name of Dizzy’s theme. I refuse to believe this is a coincidence.

There’s also something think could say “DRYCHEU”. From my extensive research, sans whatever google translate claims, this word means nothing because it doesn’t exist. However, a word that does exist is “drychau” or “mirrors”. Who knows, maybe the 3 line symbol is an A for…some reason. I’m a bit iffy on this one. The second 2 letters could be a 13 leaving us with “D13” (division 13?) but that would leave us with “ICHEU”. That’s the Middle English word for gnawing or chewing but I don’t know how that would apply here. I wanna make a Middle English connection here due to the reference to Einde, but I’m probably missing something here.

On her shoes we see the word “ENIGMA”. There’s a cube that looks like a stylized E. There are many things in this world called Enimga and is probably referencing one of those, or it is just in reference to how Unika is a weirdo. That’s all.

Speaking of “that’s all” there is a thing on her jacket that says “NEWDIV”. If I had to guess, “DIV” stands for “Division” however it might also be referencing the Linkin Park song “New Divide”, however that could be pushing it as there aren’t any other references to the band in her design.

Her shirt contains what can be presumed to be an acronym, T. E. O. C, with a little swoop and a logo that is a stylized combination of the aforementioned letters. What this could stand for is unknown as of time writing although further research has made me privy to The Edge of Chaos, a theory of a transitional space between order and chaos. The same site told me it was more likely to be about French eggs. The swoop looks similar to the other swoop on the treize shirt tag(?) but upside down…maybe the T stands for “Trize”? Who knows. The “E” could mean “enigma” for all the information we have, lmao.

Also, the way she’s holding her right hand seems to be the way to signal the number “3” in Germany and American Sign Language.

The final boss of the design notes:

this hunk of text (which gets its own section) in an extremely confusing font. Thanks to the transcription subreddit, specifically the users u/rhit06 and u/hypercubane who I feel deserve the credit here, what is said can be figured out. It reads:

“Unica

Division Treize

?VYUV? ?KDBK ?

Blood type unknown”

One of those things is not like the others but I will enjoy analyzing this frame by frame line by line because there’s a lot here!

Now, when I said that we’d get back to the reasons why I focused on the word Unica 611 words ago and that time is now because yeah, on here her name is listed as “Unica”. I largely suspect that it was just a previous spelling of her name, to which they changed the “c” to a “k” because it’s cooler .

Division Treize is probably a division she belongs to, being the 13th. This is why I believe that the “div” in “new div” stands for division, along with why she has 8 combined instances and counting of the number 13.

5 more to go until her design has 13 13s. I digress, because this basically confirms that she’s working for or worked with some sort of organization.

So. “?VYUV? ?KDBK ?” Indeed. Cryptology is a hobby of mine so I got super excited because my first thought was that is was a code to decrypt. Notice how hyped is in the past tense. Around 5 combined hours over three days of actually trying and around 2 hours more of brute force attempts later and I had to swallow my pride and give up and accept that it is definitely Splatoon-style gibberish and the only one who would pull some “hidden secret code in concept art” thing is probably me.

On to something more legible, “Blood type unknown” is interesting because the only characters who have that description are usually non-human in nature, however it could just be something to add to her mysteriousness.

So keep that in mind for…the speculation station! Which…this whole thing basically was, but I digress! Here’s some theories and inferences.

Speculation Station

What is Unika?

Unika is a girl (due to the language used and her general appearance I would assume she’s around 17-20 years old but I doubt we’ll ever get any confirmation on that). Besides her 2 jackets and turtleneck (she must be extremely cozy or extremely uncomfortable in that outfit) she has bright red eyes (hidden behind goggles except when they’re not) and a blue X in her hair.

She is also mysterious.

Now she’s probably not human because if she was it would be boring, but then the question raises: what is she? I am inclined to believe that she is a gear myself (most likely connected to the scales of juno) for a few reasons.

1. She has red and black lightning attacks extremely similar (if not identical) to Sin’s

2. Dizzy and Unika share a rather similar color scheme just based off of their little portrait icons.

3. This shot of Unika looks a lot like the one seen in Missing Link before the Justice boss fight. One glowing red eye and emphasis on a blue X

4. The tagline on the website is

“2 gears turn: towards destruction, or the future”.

As we don’t know any gears who currently want to turn towards destruction and the gear turning towards the future is most likely Sin (who I think is being referenced here for reasons I’ll write of later) or Dizzy…I think who seems to be the main antagonist makes sense as the gear inclined towards destruction, especially because no other character fits that bill currently.

5. As seen above, she has red eyes which is a trait all gears (and only gears up to now) share (barring special circumstances). She also wears goggles that hide her eyes (at least she will at first) which is probably something she would do if she didn’t want people to see her eyes, I think.

Admittedly I don’t have lots of solid proof but a few smaller things like her name possibly being in reference to a word for “alone” and wanting to kill all gears for being corrupt biological weapons are all things that we’ve seen before in a previous protagonist character.

I feel like this analysis wouldn’t be complete if I did not mention that she might be the Happy Chaos Valentine which was my thought before the first trailer came out, and I was very much not alone. “Happy Chaos” was the original name for the Valentine created by Asuka to kinda do what Jack-O did for Aria but for I-No. This name was stolen by Gun Smurf Jesus and the Valentine/the fact he stole their name is mentioned exactly once in Strive’s story mode. They are currently unfinished and unawakened in the backyard.

Due to sharing a few design quirks with Asuka’s Xrd Sign design (like the hair X and sort of cat ears) and being a character that sure did exist with no other given details…I feel it’s a pretty understandable conclusion to come to considering just how little we have about them and how little information we have about Unika.

Also, she’s wearing orange and blue (Happy Chaos colors!) which I think is important. Also, you know. Edge of Chaos and shit (which I’m not confident enough to actually present as proof but I wanted to throw it out there) I will say that given that and the design similarities to Asuka if she’s not a gear, I’m betting on her being the original Chaos.

Who is Unika?

I don’t know, but she’s definitely connected to Dizzy in some way. Possibly created by whatever group “T. E. O. C” is. She might be some sort of failed attempt at a Justice or Dizzy clone? A gear created to kill other gears by a group of people who would really like to do…that and thus was cloned from one of the most powerful gears in order to create a being who could match their abilities. Either that or she’s going rouge, but I’m more inclined towards the former. This is largely based on themes and ideas brought up in past GG games however, so take it with a grain of salt (like all of this).

Why is Unika?

I think that she’ll act as a foil to Sin. It says on the website that “their meeting will shake the world” and they say the title of the show and the release date at the same time. Given Sin’s whole track record of befriending terrorists who want him, his family, and many more dead, I think that Unika won’t stay evil forever. Honestly the real evil is probably going to be whoever she’s working for (if my theory that she’s working with a group is correct).

Conclusion (Finally)

Due to Sol Badguy: Guilty Gear now being Fredrick Bulsara: Gear. We need another Guilty Gear for the title to still make sense! And with the series “main character status” being passed on to Sin who is NOT guilty, I think Unika is going to be the Guilty Gear Strive Dual Rulers.

The end and thank you for reading

[ladywuvly]

hugh jackman +au. + characters rec list!

masterlist. socials. recs.

head canons |

Sleeping next to Logan means that you never have to worry about feeling cold again by @whispersfromaeons Lumberjack!Logan by @groovyangelkisses - Dinner on a cozy fall night. Lumberjack!Logan by @bpmiranda - Logan who is all too happy to deliver lumber in your part of town even though it is very much out of his way. Oldman!Logan Sitting in his lap by @nymphoniah Oldman!Logan and his obsession with the cute diner girl by @thinkinonsense Dogtags by @silverskyeline - You’re wearing logos dogtags as you ride him. Jailbait by @dollverine - logan and his controversially young girlfriend. I was made for loving you by @hanasnx - “I’m gonna take care of you.” Those six words—six—have defined your relationship with your husband, Logan howlett. Raw by @eloquentlytired  Needed little thing by @nymphoniah - Logan is a munch, and he is absolutely shameless about it. Smoking out the window by @nymphoniah My little princess by @bratscave Belt buckle by @gothgoblinbabe

fics & imagines |

This is ours by @d1stalker - It's your first time back at your grandparents' farm in years, and while many things are the same, one thing is not: they've hired a new farmhand. moodboard!by@divinesols Moanin’ and groaning’ by @shellshocklove - Working for your father's timber business isn't what you saw yourself doing, but when the wolverine comes looking for work it's suddenly not so bad, especially when he can teach you a thing or two. Ain't gon' ever deserve you by @awxcoffeexno - Logan has a nightmare and hurts you by accident - or - the one where you worship his claws the way they deserve. Guilty as sin by @logansbaby - The entire time you’ve known logan howlett, you’ve tried to keep your longings locked. then, one night, all that effort goes to waste when you’re confronted about your feelings. Slippin’ and slidin’ all over you by @sceletaflores - Logan forgot to fix the ac. pretty much anything from their masterlist! I can fix him and fuck him by @filmstarved - Nobody can break through logan's walls with ease like you can. and he actually lets you, welcomes it even. he needs it to breathe and when he's ready to walk out of the gifted youngsters door, there you are again. Fortnight by @pretty-little-mind33 - Your dad sends Logan over to help you build some furniture in your new apartment, unaware you'll end up with Logan's head in between your thighs. Would you be so kind in lending a hand? by @malavera - That friendly neighbor of yours is helping you with your wash day. Your perfume is holding me ransom by @retrosabers - The scent of you is driving Logan crazy. Unexpected tendencies by @figsnpassionfruits - Basically just bathroom sex w/Logan. Stain ‘em baby baby by @darnell-la - Logan had just became apart of the x men. he’s always been known to flirt with whoever he could, but when you came around, he realized she was the only one he wanted to smell like. Claws and marks by @mrsimpurity - Getting logan’s name tattooed on you earns you a very unexpected reaction. A peaceful repose by @d1stalker - After some time away on a mission, Logan comes home, and all he wants to do is be around you. Time after time by @hyper-fixates - 4 times you end up in Logan’s bed, and the 1 time he does something about it. Knuckle velvet by @ohcaptains - Logan walks you home, then lets himself in. Give me all of the ultraviolence by @joelsgoldrush - It’s common knowledge that all humans have needs. Try as you may, there’s a primitive side that you can’t spare yourself from. In which you can’t help but suck Logan off.

series/multi part |

Don't be late by @bucketslutz - You've spent your entire academic career trying to hide who you really are. First day of grad school you meet someone that sparks something deep inside you. Your history professor, Logan, makes you feel things you've never felt from someone before. moodboard! Broken promises by @not-neverland06 - Bodyguard Logan falls in love with congressman's daughter. Cross that line by @healmydesires - For a long time, you were content hiding your feelings, but lately, the longing for someone you can’t have has become unbearable. Despite knowing he could never be yours, you still cherished the sweet ache in your heart whenever he smiled or gave you a warm, platonic hug. Then, one day, everything changed. First Drink by @eyesxxyou - You were everything Logan shouldn't want, young, religious, innocent, you were sweet to everyone, and you've never been touched.

Oldman!Logan howlett

Be my baby by @cavillscurls - Logan fucks you in your sundress. Cant get started by @dollfacefantasy - Logan can't get it up one night and is humiliated. but that just means he'll have to prove he can still satisfy you. Chauffeur by @nanivinsmoke - Mean old logan can’t help but to push the best thing away in his life. and you can’t help but to let go of your worst. Like the first time by @eufezco - It has been a long time since you and logan had sex. you should show him that despite everything he hated about himself, you still craved him. Look at me by @silverskyeline - Logan can't fuck like he used to, but you don't care. you get on top, gladly taking care of him in return. Never is a broken promise by @joelsgoldrush - You are everything Logan isn’t: sweet, trouble-free, much younger—and, to top it off, Charles' caregiver. The grave of lust by @moonlight-prose - When his body doesn't work as it used to and the weary bones that poison his soul begin to ache, you take the lead in a dance you know well. Sweetness of the damed by @moonlight-prose - When night falls and wine overflows in glasses of crystal, logan finds his home in between your thighs. Road trip stop by @fake-bleach - Taking a small road trip where you’re halfway to where you need to be, and you're bored out of your mind. unluckily for you, your boyfriend won't possibly give into your antics. Quiet drive by @wlwloverwrites - Logan likes quiet drives, but there’s only way that can happen when you’re sitting in the passenger seat. Sweet revenge by @eyesxxyou - After catching your boyfriend cheating, you and his father, Logan, go on a road trip to confront him, though, you don't make it far Oldman!Logan by @inkedells - Logan is sick and tired of you treating him like he's fragile. He'll ignore his relentless pain to show you what it's like to be taken apart, rough and slow, then fast and agonizing. Fix you by @logansbaby - Logan is dying. You both know it, but it doesn’t make it any easier to accept. Room for rent by @hauntedhowlett-writes - Logan finds a new roommate.

disclamer! none of these are my works all credit to the authors! Thank you, to every single one of you, for allowing me to fuck Logan Howlett, in every way imaginable. Y’all deserve your pussies ate from the front and back!

[killerelysia]

Pardonnez-moi, Monsieur!- Solivan brugmansia x Yan!G.N Reader! (Part 6!) Final (Rushed)-(Sfw!)

The kid at the back is a 18+ visual novel Minors don't interact!-(new tws)

Words: 10000

Genre: Yandere-(Self aware yandere won the poll)

(Reader is G.N)-(This part is Sfw!)

Summary: You’ve become consumed by your obsession with Solivan Brugmansia. What started as innocent curiosity quickly spiraled into a fixation. He started it and you began to stalk him, learning every detail about his life. You felt a sick sense of satisfaction in making Sol’s world safer while growing increasingly delusional about your connection with him. Your love for him deepens as you fantasize about the future, convinced that you are the one who truly understands him—better than anyone else. Despite the line between reality and obsession blurring, you remain certain: Sol is yours, even if he doesn’t know it yet.. You're his and he's yours...

Trigger Warning: This content contains themes of obsessive behavior, stalking, manipulation, mental instability, and delusional thinking, Drugging, Yandere?, Hopeless in love for attention Please read with caution.

Obsessive behavior: The reader becomes dangerously fixated on someone, bordering on stalking and delusion.

Manipulation: The reader engages in schemes to control or harm others, often through deception.

Mental illness: Delusional thinking, possible dissociation from reality, and unhealthy fixation on someone.

Violence: There are references to bullying, physical harm, and emotional manipulation.

Emotional abuse: Both in terms of how the protagonist manipulates others and how they might internalize toxic behaviors.

Stalking: The reader watches and follows the person they are obsessed with.

Dubious Consent: Themes of physical closeness and intimacy while one party is incapacitated or pretending to be.

Dark Romanticization: Romanticizing toxic and unhealthy dynamics, including possessiveness and dominance.

Control and Power Imbalance: One character exhibits significant control over the other’s vulnerability.

EXTRA: He's a character from a game named The kid at the back!! Note, The relationship presented here between sol and reader is extremely toxic!! In no way, Just because I'm writing doesn't mean I support this kind of toxicity. Note, It's okay to like sol if you know the flaws and don't be a blind eye on them! Again, I don't support his actions etc! If you hate sol ignore this.

You worked on preparing something in the kitchen, your focus wavered, and before you knew it, you accidentally called out to Sol the way Hyugo always did—“Sunny.”

He blinked, his expression shifting to one of mild confusion as he tilted his head. “Sunny?”

Realizing your slip, you quickly clarified, chuckling nervously. “Sorry, it’s just… Hyugo calls you that. I didn’t mean to—”

Before you could finish, Sol interrupted, his curiosity piqued. “If Hyugo gets to give me a nickname, why can’t you?”

The suggestion made you pause. A nickname for Sol? That felt… oddly intimate. But you couldn’t deny the idea was a little exciting. Your mind raced for something that felt fitting, something uniquely yours to call him.

“Pumpkin,” you blurted out, testing the waters.

Sol’s lips twitched into a soft smile, his crimson-orange eyes lighting up at the suggestion. “Pumpkin, huh?” he repeated, letting the word roll off his tongue. He seemed pleased at first but then placed a finger under his chin, his gaze turning thoughtful as he studied you.

“But,” he began slowly, his eyes never leaving yours, “don’t you think that nickname suits you better?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Me?”

He nodded, his tone calm and resolute. “Yes, it suits you.”

Your cheeks warmed as you processed his words. “It’s the nickname you want me to have, huh?” you asked, trying to sound playful, but the warmth in his gaze was almost too much to handle.

“It fits you,” he said simply, smiling as if that was all the explanation needed.

Your heart skipped a beat as his words lingered in the air. Of course, you knew exactly why it felt so familiar. Pumpkin. It was the name he whispered when he thought you were asleep, the name he muttered under his breath during those nights he lingered too close for too long. You bit your lip, trying to push the thought away before it consumed you entirely.

“...I always hear this nickname in my dreams,” you muttered absentmindedly, immediately regretting it when you saw Sol’s eyes widen in surprise. You quickly waved your hand to dismiss it. “Ah, it’s nothing, really.”

But Sol’s reaction was something else entirely. His face softened into a look of pure adoration, as if the idea that you might dream of him made his heart burst. That realization seemed to make him… happy. Dangerously happy.

You coughed awkwardly and tried again. “Alright, how about… babygirl?”

The moment the word left your lips, Sol’s eyes widened like saucers before he let out an uncharacteristic snicker. His shoulders shook as he tried to stifle his reaction, but within seconds, he broke into full laughter, clutching his stomach as he doubled over.

“Ahahahaha!” he laughed, tears forming in the corners of his eyes.

“Bitch! I’m serious! Stop laughing!” you exclaimed, your face burning with embarrassment. “You’re so cute—ahhh…” That last part slipped out in a mumble, but you couldn’t take it back now.

Sol wiped at his eyes, his laughter finally settling as he caught his breath. “I have no idea where you got that idea, but I’m clearly far from being a… babygirl.” He snickered again, shaking his head. “It’s cute, though.”

"Husband?"

Sol choked on his breath the moment the words left your lips. His head snapped to the side as he desperately tried to hide the deep crimson blush spreading across his cheeks. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t suppress the ridiculously goofy smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

“Oh, god,” he muttered under his breath, his voice cracking slightly. “You… want to… ahaha—”

You grinned at his flustered state, deciding to push him further.

“Are you sure?” he stammered, glancing at you nervously. “Don’t you think people are going to, you know, take it the wrong way if you start calling me your husband, Y/n?”

You leaned forward, propping your chin in your hand with a teasing glint in your eyes. “I don’t care,” you said with a shrug, smirking at how his blush deepened. “But I think you’ll die of shyness before anyone else says anything.”

He inhaled sharply, his eyes darting everywhere except at you.

“I mean, you do give off husband vibes,” you continued with a giggle.

Sol’s gaze immediately dropped to his lap, his fingers nervously fumbling with the edge of his sleeve as he mumbled under his breath, “You’re killing me…Y/n”

You giggled harder, relishing his reaction. “Alright, alright! I’ll think of something else. But hey—‘husband’ would be so cute, wouldn’t it?”

His ears turned an even darker shade of red as he tried to compose himself, but he was clearly losing the battle.

“This is the final one then!” you declared with a triumphant smile. “Love.”

Sol froze, his entire body stiffening at the sound of the word. A visible shiver ran up his spine as his wide eyes finally met yours.

“L-Love?” he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, grinning like a cat who’d just cornered a mouse.

The tips of his ears practically glowed crimson as he quickly looked away again, twiddling his thumbs nervously. His leg began to bounce under the table, betraying the nerves he was desperately trying to hide.

“I’m… I’m alright with that,” he finally murmured, his voice unsteady but undeniably sincere.

You couldn’t resist leaning closer, teasing him further. “You sure people won’t take that the wrong way?”

Sol’s lips twitched into a shy smile as he took a deep breath. Then, so quietly you almost missed it, he whispered, “I wouldn’t mind, though… let them know. Let them all know that you only belong to me.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, your face heating up despite yourself.

You prided yourself on being observant—sometimes you thought it was a curse, noticing every little thing about him. But now? Watching the way his shy smile betrayed the possessiveness simmering beneath the surface?

It felt like a blessing.

"Should I think of something else?" you teased, tilting your head as you watched his reaction.

Before you could even finish the thought, Sol sat up abruptly, almost standing, his hands raised in a halting gesture as if to physically stop your words from escaping.

“No—‘Love’ is perfect,” he said, his tone firm but laced with a flicker of surprise. His expression was serious, almost too serious, but the intensity in his eyes spoke volumes.

A slow, knowing smile spread across your face. “Alright, Love,” you said softly, drawing out the word just to see his reaction.

Sol froze for a moment, his breath hitching, before leaning back against the couch. His body seemed to relax, but his eyes told a different story. They were heavy-lidded, clouded with a lovestruck haze, as if the nickname alone had sent him spiraling into a daydream he didn’t want to escape.

His gaze never wavered from you, his lips slightly parted as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words. He looked utterly intoxicated, like you’d just become the center of his entire universe—and you savored every second of it.

Your gaze locked with his, the lovestruck look in your eyes mirroring his own. It was intoxicating, overwhelming. The air felt heavy, thick with unspoken emotions that threatened to swallow you both whole. Realizing how deep you’d fallen into his stare, you quickly turned away, heat flooding your cheeks.

“I-I need to cook!” you stammered, desperate to break the spell.

You turned toward the kitchen, fumbling with your phone before pulling up a how-to-make-curry video. “Hey, Sol,” you said without looking back, “could you teach me some food art? Like those fancy lunches you used to make for Hyugo?”

Sol tilted his head, raising an eyebrow at your request before a soft, amused smile broke across his face. “You want me to teach you, huh? Sure… But only if I can help.”

“No!” You spun to face him, waving a finger in protest. “You’re injured! Just sit there and be cute.”

He let out a dramatic sigh, his lips forming a perfect pout as he leaned back against the counter. “Fine,” he grumbled, crossing his arms, though his eyes sparkled with amusement.

After a moment of gathering ingredients, Sol perked up and began listing off what you’d need for the curry. His voice was calm and instructive, guiding you with ease.

When you finished washing the vegetables, you grabbed the knife, determined to show him you could handle it. But before you could make the first cut, Sol was suddenly beside you, his hand gently covering yours as he slid the knife away.

“Let me,” he said smoothly, picking up the knife and turning to the cutting board with an air of effortless confidence.

“Sol, you’re supposed to be resting!” you scolded, but he ignored you, his focus entirely on the task at hand.

With practiced precision, he chopped each vegetable into perfectly equal pieces, his movements fluid and almost mesmerizing. He finished quickly, setting the knife down with a smug grin.

“Showoff,” you muttered under your breath, narrowing your eyes at his cocky expression.

“Oh?” His grin widened, and he leaned closer. “You asked for my help, didn’t you?”

Before he could say more, you reached out and grabbed his hand, your fingers brushing over his bandaged knuckles. “You’re hurt,” you reminded him softly, your voice filled with concern.

For a moment, Sol froze, his confident facade cracking as his expression softened. His gaze fell to your hands holding his, and something tender flickered in his eyes.

“I’m fine,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. But he didn’t pull his hand away.

You held his hand a little tighter, looking up at him with a mix of exasperation and affection. “No more sneaky knife tricks, okay?”

He smiled—soft, genuine, and utterly disarming. “Okay,” he said, but the glint in his eye told you he was already planning his next move.

Sol sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re impossible. But fine, if you’re going to be stubborn, let me at least guide you so you don’t chop a finger off.”

You grabbed the knife, determined to prove yourself. "I can manage just fine!" you huffed, setting the carrot on the cutting board and trying to carve it into a petal shape. The result was… less than perfect.

Suddenly, you felt a presence behind you—warm, close, and undeniably suffocating. Sol’s hands gently covered yours on the knife, his chest brushing lightly against your back as his breath fanned your ear.

“You’re too tense,” he murmured, his voice low and coaxing, like honey dripping into your thoughts. “Relax… I’ll show you how.”

Your breath hitched. Relax? How am I supposed to relax when you’re this close?

He adjusted your grip, his hands guiding yours with expert precision. “See? Like this,” he said, his tone a little too soft, a little too seductive.

You wanted to say something—anything—but the words caught in your throat. The warmth of him pressed against you, the way his fingers curled over yours… it was overwhelming. You felt your cheeks heat up, your thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind.

Does he know what he’s doing?

“Of course I know what I’m doing,” Sol said out of nowhere, very seriously.

Your heart skipped a beat. “W-What?!”

He paused, confused, then smirked knowingly. “I mean… I do know my ways with knifes."

Can he read my mind?

Somehow, under his guidance—and despite the mess in your head—you managed to cut a carrot petal perfectly. You stared down at the result, momentarily stunned.

“Well done,” Sol said, his hands still lingering over yours. “Should I show you again, or—”

You practically jumped out of his grasp, spinning around with a sheepish smile. “Nope! Got it! Thanks! All good here!” you blurted, waving your hands frantically.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your reaction. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t mind helping you again.”

“Nope! I’m fine!” you squeaked, your voice higher than usual.

Sol chuckled, shaking his head. “Alright, pumpkin,” he said, stepping back with an air of victory.

Your mind raced as you turned back to the cutting board, gripping the knife tightly to ground yourself. Does he know what kind of effect he has on me?

You groaned internally, deciding then and there to never let him cook with you ever again.

You couldn’t meet his eyes. “No! It’s fine! I got it!" you blurted, jumping up with a Mickey Mouse-like squeak, hands flailing as if trying to prove a point. “I got it right! See?” You turned toward the sink in a panic, trying to wash your hands to do something, anything, to distract yourself from his lingering gaze.

But the thoughts swirled around in your mind like a storm. What was it about him? Why did you feel so... lost in him?

Why was everything he did, every word he spoke, making your heart race like this?

Sol tilted his head, frowning as you adamantly refused to let him help prepare dinner. “I’ll just do something easy then, okay? Like juice. No knives, no heavy lifting—safe and simple.” His tone was calm, but his persistence was unyielding.

You sighed, cornered by his determination. “Fine. Orange juice. That’s it. Nothing else,” you said firmly, though your heart raced for an entirely different reason.

Sol moved toward the counter, pulling out oranges and the juicer, you couldn’t shake the gnawing suspicion creeping into your thoughts. Why does he want to help so badly? It wasn’t that you didn’t trust his skills; you knew he was competent—better than you, even. But the darker part of your mind whispered something sinister: He’s going to drug it. That’s what the sleeping pills in his pocket are for, right?

You shook your head, trying to focus on the curry simmering on the stove. Still, your thoughts kept wandering back to the juice. What if he’s planning to make me fall asleep just so he can…

Your pulse quickened. The idea wasn’t entirely unpleasant, which disturbed you even more. Stop it. You’re the one with the upper hand here, you reminded yourself.

Minutes later, Sol handed you a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice, a proud smile on his face. “Here. The least painful job, as promised.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, setting it aside on the counter. The curry was boiling hot, nearly ready to serve. You turned off the stove, setting the pot on a trivet. But your mind was already spinning with plans.

“Hey, Sol,” you began, keeping your tone light and casual. “Could you call Hyugo and let him know you’re at my place? You know how he gets if we don’t keep him in the loop.”

Sol raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Your phone’s dead, though.”

“Yeah, but yours isn’t,” you countered smoothly. “Just tell him I dragged you here for dinner. I don’t want him thinking you’re in trouble or anything.”

Sol hesitated for a moment before sighing. “Alright. I’ll go step outside and call him.”

As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, you grabbed the glass of juice he’d prepared, a sly grin spreading across your face. Maybe drugged, maybe not, you thought, shaking your head. Doesn’t matter. Not taking chances.

You poured the juice into the sink, washing the glass thoroughly before retrieving a fresh batch from the fridge. You poured the untainted juice into a clean glass, you added a few ice cubes to ensure it would be cold enough to mask any suspicion.

“Let’s see who gets played now,” you muttered under your breath, giggling softly at your own cunning.

The curry was ready, the table set, and the replacement juice sat innocently in its place. You had one last card to play, though—a small vial of medicine you had tucked away. It wasn’t a sedative exactly, but it would mimic the effects, making you feel tired without fully knocking you out. Perfect for your plan.

You dropped a dose into the “safe” glass of juice you’d prepared for yourself. You needed to stay just awake enough to watch Sol’s reaction, to see the cracks in his perfect facade when he thought you were asleep.

Let’s see your demons come out, Sol.

The door opened, and Sol returned, his expression softening as he saw the table set. “Hyugo says hi,” he said, slipping his phone into his pocket.

“Great,” you replied, motioning for him to sit.

The warmth of the curry lingered on your tongue as you took another bite, humming in delight. Across the table, Sol chuckled softly, savoring his own meal with a small, content smile.

"You should write down the spices you had me add," you said, swirling the remnants of your curry around with your spoon. "I didn’t think this would turn out so good."

"Really?" Sol’s eyes sparkled. "You did most of the work. I just pointed a few things out."

He leaned back, his movements relaxed, yet there was a subtle tension in his frame—like a predator watching its prey.

The conversation drifted to food, and Sol offered casually, "I could send you some of my favorite recipes if you ever want to try making them."

"Yeah, I'd like that," you murmured, smiling faintly.

As the room fell into a quiet rhythm, your thoughts wandered, drawn to him. His presence today had been... overwhelming. From the moment he protected you to cooking beside you in the kitchen, Sol had wormed his way into your life in ways that felt far too intimate. It wasn’t just comfort; it was something deeper, darker.

It felt domestic.

It felt... right.

The thought sent a twisted thrill racing through your veins, like an itch you couldn’t scratch. You glanced at Sol, who was casually sipping his juice, his eyes flicking to yours every so often.

You tilted your head back, chugging the last of the orange juice in a single gulp. Sol raised an eyebrow at you, amused, but there was something sharp in his gaze, something that made your pulse quicken.

Your breath hitched. The room seemed warmer than before.

What if he did drug it? The idea had been lurking in the back of your mind all night, and now, with every sluggish beat of your heart, you were almost sure.

And yet...

You didn’t feel fear. You felt exhilaration.

Your mind spiraled. Would he take care of me if I passed out? Would he carry me to my room? Or would I wake up to something... darker? Would I see that beautiful, unhinged side of him fully unleashed?

The weight of your eyelids began to drag, and you couldn’t stop the lazy smile creeping onto your lips.

"What time is it?" you asked, your voice softer than you intended.

"8:45," Sol replied, his voice smooth but low—almost teasing.

You blinked at him, your vision blurring slightly. Your heart raced even as your body started to betray you. You had overdone it on the dose; the sleepy effects were hitting faster than expected.

"I’ve taken too much of your time, Lo—Sol." You let out a yawn, barely able to hold back a crazed little laugh at how this was all unfolding. "You... should go home. Right? There’s class tomorrow."

Sol’s expression softened, his smile laced with something... dangerous. His eyes burned with an intensity that made your stomach twist—half fear, half desire.

"No need to worry about me," he said, leaning in slightly. "I’m happy you let me in. Happy you trusted me enough to treat my wounds, to share dinner." His words dripped with sincerity, but his gaze... his gaze was anything but innocent.

You tried to lift a hand to his face, to cup his cheek, but your vision swam. There were three of him now, all staring at you, all wearing the same soft, deranged smile.

"You seem tired, pumpkin," Sol whispered

Your heart stuttered, a crazed, heady feeling overtaking you. This is it. This is what I wanted. Show me more of you, Sol.

"It’s fine," you mumbled, your words slurred. "Just let me get you... something. You need to g-go home, right?"

The glass slipped from your fingers, shattering against the floor. The sound was distant, muffled, like it came from another world.

And then you saw it.

Sol’s smile stretched wider, darker, and his eyes gleamed with an obsession so raw it almost brought you to tears.

God, I love this. You thought, the corners of your lips twitching into the barest of smirks as your body gave in to the drowsiness.

Just before your vision faded, you caught the glint of his teeth as he whispered something you couldn’t quite make out.

It didn’t matter.

You wanted it.

Beyond your hazy, blurred vision, you caught the faint movement of Sol's smile—serene, calm, yet undeniably dark. His hand pushed away the untouched glass of orange juice, his fingers lingering as if mocking your little game.

You sly bastard, your mind whispered, every word tinged with a delirious, obsessive warmth. God, fuck you... fuck you... I love you.

Your senses still clung to you, though your body betrayed the act. You were awake—barely. Every sound, every tiny motion, was amplified in the fog of your mind. You could hear him move closer, the scrape of his chair on the floor, the soft crunch of glass underfoot as he stepped toward the sink.

You wanted to laugh, but you couldn't. He knows... maybe not all of it, but enough. Oh, Sol... you brilliant, twisted soul. Take me.

He turned toward the pitcher of orange juice and the abandoned glass, his gaze unreadable. The slight crunch of a packet in his pocket caught your ears, the sound piercing through the fog like a whisper meant only for you.. those pills. So that’s your game. Were you going to play me, Sol? Or were you testing me?

The thought burned into your chest, clawing its way into your obsessive thoughts.

It doesn’t matter. You stayed, didn’t you? You’re still here... with me. God, I’ll let you win this game if you want, just don’t stop playing with me.

You felt his hands—steady, firm—on your shoulders. His touch was everything. Comforting. Possessive. Sinister. His breath, warm against your neck, sent shivers down your spine.

You’re tasting me already, aren’t you? Savoring me.

He inhaled deeply, the sound deliberate, almost indulgent, as if he couldn’t help himself. The soft tremor that followed made your heart leap even in your lethargic haze.

You wanted to moan. But you couldn’t. All you could do was feel.

His voice broke the silence, soft and low, dripping with tenderness and control.

"Let’s get you to bed, pumpkin."

Your thoughts spiraled. Pumpkin. That name again... it’s mine, isn’t it? Yours. Ours. Say it again. Say it when you think I’m not listening. Say it while you’re watching me.

He slipped an arm beneath your legs and the other behind your back, lifting you with a gentleness that made your skin ache. His strength surprised you, even through his bandaged wounds. He carried you like you were precious. Fragile. His spouse

Your heart hammered, your chest heavy with a love so twisted it felt like it would tear you apart.

This is what I wanted. This is what I fucking dreamed of. Take me, Sol. I don’t care what it looks like. I don’t care what you do. Just don’t leave. Don’t leave me alone. You’re mine as much as I’m yours. I’ll make you see that someday. I’ll show you... no one else can give you this.

You felt the rhythmic sway of his steps as he carried you toward your room, his lips moving softly—words you couldn’t quite catch but that you knew were meant for you.

What are you saying, Sol? Sweet nothings? Promises? Confessions? Tell me. Tell me everything. Tell me while you think I can’t hear. I want to live in your darkness... drown in it. You’re perfect. You’re mine.

He laid you down gently, his hands lingering just a little too long as he adjusted you on the bed.

Sol, Sol, Sol... touch me more. Just a little more. Show me everything. Don’t stop now... don’t ever stop.

You felt the covers pulled over you, the fabric brushing against your skin. His fingers brushed against your temple, lingering, soft but firm.

"Heh... Hahaha... Hahahahaha." Sol's laughter rang out, soft but unhinged, dripping with the kind of madness that sent chills down your spine and heat rushing to your cheeks.

Oh god, you whispered in your mind, trying to steady the storm of emotions coursing through you.

You didn’t know anymore—was it his broken, chaotic soul you loved, or was it just him, the entirety of him, darkness and all?

"Oh, my darling Y/N," Sol purred, his voice a velvety mix of affection and possession, "I feel so flattered that you trust me so, so much."

You giggled silently to yourself. Trust? Oh, Sol... if only you knew the truth. You’d watched him for months, hadn’t you? Studied him from afar, noted every habit, every nuance. You’d been drawn to him long before this moment, long before he thought he had won you.

“Despite meeting me yesterday,” he continued, his tone softening but not losing its edge, “isn’t this proof enough? Proof that you’re meant to be mine, as I was always meant to be yours?”

Your breath hitched. God, the way he spoke, the way his words dug under your skin and coiled around your heart like a vice. You were his... but oh, Sol, how little he knew. You were already more his than he could ever realize.

Your thoughts betrayed you. I want to drown in you, Sol. Kiss you until we’re both breathless. Draw your face over and over, photograph every moment of your obsession, and immortalize it in my mind forever.

He shifted closer, his wicked grin evident even without looking. You felt his breath against your neck, hot and electric, his arms tightening possessively around you. His head rested against your chest, and your traitorous heart thudded faster. You could feel him smiling against your skin.

"Your soul resonates with mine," he whispered, his voice a low hum that made your blood race. “I can hear it, feel it, see it in the way you linger even in your dreams.”

God, you were burning alive. You could barely keep your thoughts contained. Sol, you’re driving me mad. How can I keep pretending? I want to turn over, look at you, and devour the chaos in your eyes.

Sol snuggled even closer, practically merging with you as his body molded against yours. “I love you so much, Y/N,” he murmured, his lips brushing faintly against your ear. “I want you to realize it, deep in your soul. I want your heart to sing mine’s name. I know it’ll take time... but I’m growing impatient, sweetheart.”

You nearly whimpered, biting down the sound before it could escape. Your pulse betrayed you again, hammering wildly in your chest. He heard it. Oh, you knew he heard it.

His voice dipped lower, as if to himself, but you caught every word. "When will you realize?"

You almost broke then and there, your thoughts screaming. I do, Sol. I do realize. I know exactly what we are, what we’re becoming. You’re chaos and obsession, and I’m the fool who craves it all.

But instead, you stayed silent, pretending to sleep, letting him believe you were entirely under his spell. All the while, you simmered with a deranged kind of love that mirrored his own. You wanted him. God, you wanted him. And soon, you’d let him know just how much.

Your body lay still, but inside, you were burning with a dangerous desire. You had to keep pretending, keep playing this game of sweet dreams and soft whispers, while your mind spun in wicked thoughts of Sol and everything you wanted to do to him.

"Sol... Sol..." you whispered, just loud enough for him to hear, your voice soft and dreamy, like a confession in the night.

He froze, his heart leaping in his chest at the sound of his name on your lips. His breath hitched as his mind scrambled, unsure if you were truly asleep or if this was some kind of delicious tease. His arms tightened around you instinctively, and you felt the sudden heat of his body pressing into yours.

You let out a quiet, almost imperceptible sigh, as if lost in a dream. "Sol..." you whispered again, dragging it out just enough to make him crave more.

His face was burning now, the heat of his blush almost suffocating. He couldn’t stop the smile that crept onto his lips, the kind of smile that was both pure adoration and a little bit dangerous. He believed it — every word you said, every whisper. In his mind, this was confirmation, this was what he had been waiting for, that you truly desired him, just as much as he desired you.

So cute, he thought, watching your lips curl into a peaceful, dreamy expression. It was enough to drive him wild with longing. The way you whispered his name — you were playing, teasing him, and it was the most intoxicating thing he'd ever heard.

"God..." he muttered under his breath, his voice hoarse. He felt a tremble run through his body as his grip on you tightened again.

You could hear him, feel his heartbeat picking up as he fought to keep his composure. But you could tell. His weakness was your touch, your words, your presence. The way you acted like a dreamer in his arms, how you whispered his name as though you were lost in the warmth of him.

It was all too much for him to bear. His face burned with a blush that he couldn’t hide, his breath growing shallow as he fought against the overwhelming urge to pull you even closer.

Sol's breath trembled as he watched your peaceful expression, your lips softly parted, whispering his name again, and again. His chest tightened with something deep, primal, like a yearning that refused to be ignored.

"Dreaming about me..." he murmured, his voice thick with longing, almost trembling with the raw emotion he couldn't hide. His lips quivered as if they couldn't contain the truth he felt deep inside. "Ah... Darling, do you love me too?"

His words were low, quiet—he thought you were still asleep, your body gently relaxed in his arms. He didn’t want to disturb you, didn’t want to force an answer. But deep down, he needed to hear it. He needed confirmation that you felt the same way he did.

His heart pounded as he looked at you, as though you were everything he could ever dream of. He felt weak under the weight of his own desire and affection. He whispered again, voice barely a breath, "I need you to know... I love you so much, Y/N."

The tears that welled in his eyes were a sign of how deeply he cared, how completely he was consumed by you. It was more than obsession. It was devotion, twisted with a dark desire. He didn’t realize that he was slowly losing control, his emotions getting the better of him.

He pulled you a little closer, burying his face in your hair, his breath hitching. "You're mine, Y/N. No one else." His words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his possessiveness, but also with a tenderness he only allowed himself to feel in this moment with you.

he held you tighter, his lips kissed the top of your head, lingering for a moment, his tears mixing with his whispered confession. "I just want you to know... You’re everything to me, darling." He paused, his voice shaking as he waited for a response he didn't expect, but desperately craved.

Sol’s breath hitched as he rifled through your closet, his hands trembling with excitement as he pulled out pieces of clothing he planned to steal some clothing... A piece of you he could keep close, something only he could touch. He grinned to himself, the thought of having you so wrapped around him, even in your absence, sending waves of pleasure through his chest.

He leaned in, placing a soft kiss on your cheek, his lips lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. "I'll be right back," he whispered, his voice thick with affection, as he turned to continue his search.

You lay there, eyes closed, pretending to be asleep, feeling the exhaustion settling deep into your bones. The warmth of his embrace was comforting, but you knew what he wanted—what he always wanted. You felt your thoughts swirl in that dangerous, delicious obsession, but you couldn’t stop it. Not now.

Sol's arms clung to one of your oversized sweaters as he nuzzled his face into the fabric, inhaling your scent like it was his lifeline. His smile was lazy, lovesick, almost deranged in its intensity. After kissing your cheek and whispering, "I'll be right back, darling," he slipped into your closet, leaving you lying there in feigned sleep.

You barely moved, too torn between exhaustion and the thrill of what you knew he was doing. Sol rummaging through your things was almost too perfect a scenario, one you'd dreamed of before, but tonight it was real.

Inside the closet, Sol's hands moved with almost reverent care as he touched your clothes, holding each piece as though it were sacred. A gleam of mischief lit up his heterochromatic eyes when he decided to "borrow" one of your hoodies. for him to hug.

Then, something caught his eye. A box tucked into the corner of the closet, partially hidden beneath a blanket. Curiosity burned brighter than caution as he crouched down and pulled it into the dim light. His hands were trembling as he opened the lid.

And then... his world shifted.

Photos of him—and Hyugo. Some candid, others blurry as though taken from a distance. Sketches, endless sketches of his face in varying poses, from loving to enraged to serene. Notes and details scribbled in the margins, every single one obsessively accurate.

Bandages. A pencil he hadn’t even realized you’d taken—one he'd lost just days ago. A button from his sweater.

And then there was the journal.

Sol's fingers brushed over its cover, his breath uneven as he opened it. His name, written over and over again in feverish handwriting. Doodles of hearts, sketches of his profile, and words—declarations, fantasies, phrases that mirrored the chaos in his own mind. It was uncanny. It was terrifying.

It was exhilarating.

He felt his lips curl into an unhinged look as he flipped through the pages, faster and faster, his eyes devouring every stroke of the pen.

But then, a sound—sharp, sudden, and chilling—broke through his thoughts.

A creak. Like the groan of floorboards or the protest of something heavy shifting. Sol froze, his grip tightening on the journal. Slowly, he turned his head toward the closet door.

"...Y/N?"

The moment Sol turned his head, you were already moving. Before he could react, you were on him, pinning him to the floor with a force that sent the box scattering. Pictures, sketches, and your deepest secrets spilled across the floor like a dam breaking. Sol’s back hit the floor, his wide eyes staring up at you, his lips parted in a silent gasp.

You hovered over him, your hands trembling as they gripped his shoulders—not his neck, not his hands. Not the places that screamed at you to touch. You couldn’t. You wouldn’t.

"I can't hold you by your neck... because you hate it, don’t you?!" you hissed, your voice breaking, a venomous whisper mixed with something almost tender. "And your hands—I can’t touch those either! Because these hands saved me! They’re too... precious! I know all of this because I saw you too!" Your words were frantic, your breath uneven as your emotions clawed their way out of you, raw and desperate.

His eyes were locked on yours, his mouth slightly agape, but he didn’t move, didn’t resist. His blush deepened, spreading across his pale cheeks, but he stayed silent. Watching. Listening.

You felt your resolve crack further, a sob hitching in your throat as you leaned closer, your voice trembling. “Y-you weren’t supposed to see that! None of that!” You gestured wildly at the journal, the photos, the sketches. “Why couldn’t you just—just stay there? Just lay with me? Why are you so goddamn greedy, Sol?” Your words were sharp, accusing, but your expression betrayed your own obsession, your own twisted love.

“You’ve already stolen so much from me. My heart, my thoughts—hell, a dozen of my clothes! And now, this?!” You gestured to the box again, your voice rising before it cracked into a broken whisper. "You greedy, disgusting bastard... And me? I’m no better. I’m just as bad. Look at us...”

Your words faltered as your gaze met his, and you froze. His face mirrored yours—exactly. The wide, crazed eyes, dilated pupils, blush streaking his cheeks like war paint. His lips quivered, caught between a nervous smile and the urge to speak, but no words came. He just stared at you, breathing hard, his chest rising and falling beneath you.

You were paralyzed by the intensity of it—the horrifying, beautiful realization. He wasn’t scared. He wasn’t angry.

He was just like you.

A sick laugh bubbled out of you, breaking the silence. “Look at us... Look at how disgusting we are, Sol! You—stealing my clothes like some lovesick thief. And me? God, I’m worse. So much worse. Hiding this box, drawing you like some obsessed freak... We're—” You choked on your words, tears threatening to spill, but the manic grin on your face remained. "We’re both so fucking far gone. It’s sick. We’re sick.”

And yet... there was something so horribly, perfectly satisfying about it.

Sol lay beneath you, his eyes wide and unblinking, his breath caught in his throat as your words tumbled out in a chaotic symphony of revelation. His lips parted as if to say something, but nothing came. His silence was deafening, his body frozen, his face betraying that strange, terrifying cocktail of shock and... acceptance.

“You... you’ve been stalking me, haven’t you?” you whispered, your voice sickly sweet as you leaned closer, lips brushing just past his ear. “You watched me, didn’t you? Followed me home... went through my things. You even drugged me—or almost did. Almost.” Your laugh was low and breathy, sending shivers down his spine. You could feel it, the way his body tensed and trembled beneath your touch.

And then, with a sudden, wicked grin, you asked, “May I?” Your lips hovered near his neck, the words dripping with teasing affection. He didn’t answer, only inhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling rapidly. That was enough.

You pressed your lips to his neck, slow and deliberate, and he shuddered under you. His arms moved almost instinctively, wrapping around you as if to anchor himself. His breaths came heavier now, his hands gripping the fabric of your clothes.

“Sol, Sol, Sol…” you murmured against his skin, giggling softly as you pulled back to look at him. His face was a mess of emotions—blush spreading across his cheeks, lips trembling, eyes half-lidded and glazed over with something primal. “Look at you... My beloved, my sweet, sweet Sol.. Is it shocking to see me this crazey?!"

You tilted your head, studying him like an artist admiring their own masterpiece. “I can’t even decide if I should kiss you again or just... hug you forever.” Your laugh broke out again, louder, unhinged. “Ahahaha! Oh, God, I can’t even choose! You make me want everything, Sol! Everything you are!”

Your grin widened further, almost painful, your voice sharp and cutting even as your tone stayed sweet. “That smile of yours... That’s the one, isn’t it? The one that blinds me to everyone else. Like a bright, burning sun that drowns out the whole world. God, you’re so good at pretending to be sweet, but I see you, Sol. I see what’s behind it!”

You pressed your forehead against his, your grin softening, but your words still carried that playful, mocking edge. “You’re a little liar, you know? Just like me. And you know what?” Your voice dropped, almost reverent, as you whispered, “I love it. I love you.”

You paused, giggling again, shaking your head as if you couldn’t believe it yourself. “But let’s not pretend I’m better. Oh, no.” You gestured wildly at the scattered contents of your box. “I’m just as bad as you. Worse, even. Look at all this! I’m a walking red flag, and you—” You leaned back slightly, giving him a once-over, your smile turning teasing. “You’re waving me around like you’re proud.”

Your laughter echoed again, filling the space around you, almost hysterical. “What a pair we make! The obsessed and the obsessive... No, wait—who’s who again?” You tilted your head, smirking. “It doesn’t matter, does it? We’re both disgusting, both broken... and God, isn’t it just perfect?”

Sol’s wide-eyed stare softened just slightly, his lips quirking into the faintest of smiles. A fragile, deranged thing that mirrored your own.

And as you leaned closer again, your voice dropped to a whisper, still playful, still sharp. “I’ll trash-talk myself all day, darling, but don’t think for a second you’re off the hook. You’re mine, Sol. And I’m yours. So, go ahead...”

You cupped his face again, your grin never faltering. “Say something. Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me I’m not exactly what you wanted.”

Your fingers curled into Sol’s shirt with trembling force, clutching it so tightly that your knuckles turned white. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, tears pooling in your eyes as you stared down at him. The words spilled from your lips before you could stop them, each syllable laced with frustration, desperation, and something raw and terrifying.

"Why? Why aren't you saying anything?!" Your voice cracked as you shook him slightly, your grip relentless. “Why aren’t you telling me anything?! I know you feel it—I see it! You’re just like me! You’re the same as me!” Tears streamed down your cheeks, but your voice only grew louder, more frantic. “Don’t fucking lie to me, Sol! You—”

You froze mid-sentence, your eyes locking with his. His expression hadn’t changed. Those eyes of his… they were the same as yours. Wide, shimmering, and brimming with something overwhelming—something obsessive. They mirrored your own crazed love-stricken gaze so perfectly it stole the breath from your lungs.

He was silent, utterly still, and yet… there it was. That unshakable devotion, that desperate yearning. It was written all over his face, in the way his lips parted just slightly, the way his breath hitched, the way he clung to you as if letting go would shatter him completely.

Sol's voice came out almost as a whisper, unsure but laced with a tinge of fear. “How—long have you known…?”

You tilted your head, an innocent smile playing on your lips, though your eyes were anything but innocent.

“What...?” you asked, feigning confusion.

Sol’s gaze dropped, his fingers twitching at his sides. “That I was...watching...you.”

You couldn't hold back the giggle that bubbled up from deep inside you, the sound light but eerie. “Oh, honey... the correct word is ‘stalking.’ But you know, since a few months now... I knew exactly what you were up to. Every little thing. The way you’d slip in and out when you thought I wasn’t paying attention. The food you tried to drug... oh, how cute it was. But, don’t worry. It wasn’t the first time I noticed.”

His expression faltered, surprise crossing his face, but you could sense a mix of pride and discomfort swirling within him.

“How—and you don’t hate me?” His voice trembled slightly, cracking for the first time.

You leaned in closer, almost toying with him, your voice gentle as you whispered, “No. Not at all.”

Sol’s eyes widened in disbelief, his lips parting as if to say something but then stopping himself. His brows furrowed. “What? I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t you hate me?” He asked again, but this time, there was more clarity, more strength in his tone than before.

You smirked, tilting your head to the side, as if you were finally offering him the answer he so desperately wanted. “I don’t have a ‘choice,’ Sol.”

A flicker of confusion danced across his face as his grip tightened slightly around you, as though searching for more answers in your gaze. “What?”

You paused for a moment, letting the words sink in. A soft, almost eerie smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “It’s just that I didn’t have any other choice but to love you.”

His expression faltered, and for the briefest of moments, you saw something almost human—something fragile—cross his face. A flush crept up his cheeks, though his eyes remained sharp, guarded.

“You basically own me now, Sol,” you said quietly, your voice unshaken. You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of pride in the way the words fell from your lips. You weren’t afraid. You were comfortable in this.

And then, softly, hesitantly, he finally spoke. His voice was fragile, almost trembling, as if the question itself might break him. “Do you… love me?”

The room fell into a suffocating silence. His words hung in the air, heavy and vulnerable, cutting through your spiraling emotions like a knife. For a moment, you were stunned into silence, your grip loosening slightly on his shirt.

That’s what he was worried about? After everything—after the stalking, the stealing, the obsession—that’s what he cared about? Your mind raced, trying to process the absurdity of it all.

But as you stared at him, at the raw, unguarded emotion in his eyes, something shifted. All the anger, all the chaos inside you seemed to pause, replaced by a single, undeniable truth.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper as you answered, your own vulnerability slipping through. “Sol…” Your hands trembled against his chest. “Of course I love you.” Your voice cracked on the last word, tears slipping down your cheeks. "How could I not? You’ve consumed me. You’re all I ever think about. All I ever want. All I ever need.”

His lips quivered, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he searched your face for any hint of deceit. But there was none. Just raw, terrifying honesty.

“I love you,” you repeated, louder this time, your voice breaking as you clung to him. “And I hate it, Sol. I hate how much I love you. I hate what it’s turned me into. But I can’t stop. I don’t want to stop.”

His arms wrapped around you suddenly, pulling you against him with a force that stole your breath. His body trembled as he buried his face in your shoulder, his voice muffled and shaky. “I’ve waited so long to hear you say that,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “So long…”

You didn’t need to say anything more. Just the way you looked at him spoke volumes. There was a darkness to your smile, a chilling calmness that matched his own twisted nature. You leaned in slightly, your voice low and almost pleading, but still with an air of authority, “Don’t ever leave me, Sol.”

His breath hitched. He froze for a moment, his hand instinctively reaching for his head, his fingers gripping it tightly, as though he could escape the weight of the words you just laid upon him.

“That won’t happen,” he murmured, voice thick with a promise that both scared and thrilled you.

Before you could respond, before you could even process what was happening, Sol closed the distance between you, his hand coming to the back of your head. He pulled you in closer, his lips crashing against yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

There was no gentleness in it, only a raw, desperate need—a desire to consume, to possess, to claim. His kiss was demanding, as though he couldn’t wait any longer to have you all to himself. It was everything you wanted, everything you needed.

Morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room, but neither of you seemed ready to face it. The silence was comfortable, the weight of your shared night still lingering in the air. Sol’s steady breathing against you was soothing, and it made it hard to even think about moving. His arms were wrapped tightly around you, as if he feared you’d vanish if he let go.

You lay there, with your head resting on his chest, listening to the rhythmic beat of his heart. Everything felt so surreal. After everything—the madness, the obsession, the twisted love—you were here. Together. And for a brief, beautiful moment, you couldn’t find a single reason to pull away.

Sol shifted slightly, his voice a soft whisper in the stillness of the room. "Is this... is this the first time I've slept well in a while?"

You paused, taking in his words, unsure how to respond. He had told you things, bits and pieces of his own brokenness, but this was different. This was the side of Sol that you never really expected to see—the one that wasn’t in control, the one who needed something, someone.

"Yeah," he murmured, almost to himself. "After everything... with you, it feels... different."

The quiet lingered between you, but neither of you rushed to fill it with words. The kiss, the emotions that came with it, and the truth that had been laid bare—none of it was easy to digest. But somehow, it felt right. Neither of you had to say much. The bond was there, thickening around you like an unspoken promise.

For once, Sol wasn’t the one in control. For once, he just wanted to stay there with you.

You lightly brushed a strand of hair from his face, gazing down at him, trying to make sense of the situation. It was strange, how the person who had been stalking you, watching your every move, could now look so... innocent. After everything you’d gone through together, after the craziness of the past few days, here he was, holding you like you were the one thing that could keep him grounded.

Your fingers brushed his cheek gently, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "Oh, Sol," you whispered, "the soul you are..."

Sol didn’t respond immediately, his arms tightening slightly around you, pulling you in closer. He wasn’t saying anything, but his presence spoke volumes. His usual intensity had faded, replaced by a softness, like he was content. Almost like he was at peace for the first time in a long time.

It was funny. You’d expected so much resistance, so much chaos between the two of you. But instead, Sol had become... almost like a puppy. Gentle, needy, and completely devoted now that you’d given him what he wanted—a relationship. The storm inside him had quieted, and now he just wanted you. All of you.

He nuzzled his face against your neck, letting out a small, contented sigh.

The morning light streamed through the window, but neither of you seemed eager to face the reality outside. You could feel Sol’s arms tightening around you, his grip almost possessive, like he didn’t want to let you go—not now, not ever. His presence was soothing yet consuming, and despite everything, you couldn’t bring yourself to push him away. He simply held you, content and silent.

You sighed softly, feeling the weight of your thoughts press down on you. “Sol,” you murmured, your voice barely a whisper, “We have school today.”

But even as you said it, you didn’t move. Sol didn’t either. His gaze shifted to you, his eyes filled with an intensity that you had come to recognize all too well. Then, that damned smile of his—bright and blinding like the sun—spread across his face. He closed his eyes again, nuzzling his head into your neck, as if the world outside didn’t matter.

You smiled in return, that same small, knowing smile, as you closed your eyes. Skipping a day doesn’t matter, you thought, feeling your heartbeat steady as you lay there with him, cocooned in the quiet warmth of the moment.

You didn’t know what was happening. You didn’t know if it was the obsession, or just the way Sol had slowly wormed his way into your heart. Part of you wondered if you were truly in love with him, with his darkness, or if you had fallen for something else—his childlike, innocent need for you, perhaps. But one thing was certain. You were in love with something dark.

Something inside you whispered that it didn’t matter what it was, as long as you had him. You felt yourself sinking deeper into him, losing track of what was real and what was just a product of your twisted desires.

The day could wait. Everything could wait. You were here, with him, ad that's!

........................

...............................................

..............................................................................

Your thoughts twisted in a way you hadn't fully expected. Sol's warm body pressed against yours was all you could focus on, as his steady breathing filled the space between you. His presence was intoxicating, and you couldn't help but wonder how far you'd fallen into this spiral.

Is this what love feels like?

You couldn't stop the question from swirling in your mind, but you weren't sure if it was love anymore. Not the kind they talked about in fairy tales, not the kind people dreamt of. This felt different—darker, somehow. The way he clung to you, the way he needed you, it was suffocating yet strangely comforting.

It’s like I’m his obsession, his world, and I can’t escape it. But I don’t want to.

His grip on you, though tender, felt possessive—like he was marking his territory. Your heart fluttered, but not from nervousness. There was something wrong with the way you craved his touch, the way you wanted him to tighten his hold on you.

You tried to brush the thought away, but it lingered like a haunting whisper in the back of your mind. What if this is all I’ve ever wanted? To be owned, to be the center of his world?

You looked down at him, the boy who had slowly seeped into your life, becoming the very air you breathed. His face, soft and serene in sleep, looked almost innocent. But you knew better. He wasn’t innocent. Not with that smile. Not with that darkness lurking in his eyes whenever he was awake.

Do I want to be the one to tame him? The thought came unbidden, a dangerous curiosity taking root. But you weren’t scared. No, you were... enthralled.

He stirred slightly, his breath tickling your neck as his lips brushed against your skin. You felt that familiar thrill course through you, the dark and twisted desire that you couldn’t stop. You wanted to taste his madness, wanted to pull him deeper into the abyss with you. You both were tangled in this web of obsession, and it felt like the only thing that made sense.

God, what is wrong with me?

The question was fleeting, a mere afterthought to the way your heart sped up when he pulled you closer. You didn’t care anymore.

You’re mine, Sol. I’m yours. Forever. The thought was clear, possessive, and there was no escape from it. You smiled to yourself, knowing deep down that you were just as tangled in this as he was.

And that was exactly how you wanted it.

That was all that mattered right now.

Thank you for everyone who read this series, TBH the ending is rushed. I wasn't able to write it much any longer I wanted to end it. I'm sorry if the 'ending' is bad. I was just pointing out two things Reader only started to love the side of his true self than himself. It has to be messed up. I hope i didn't ruin anyone's day with it. I wanna thank to everyone who supported me it was really fun to write...I guess it's time to wrap up! Please send comments I like reading them and replying I'm so sorry Comments make me happy.

A important note too, Please tell me a review of this fic if you can! It has to be truth! I don't mind some tips I WANT THEM. It's also okay if you didn't like it. That's exactly why I did what I did. If you cringed even one time, Just know that it was a trap by me.

Signing off,

Elysia <3333

[i-smoke-chapstick]

Request: I'm already back for more. As l've already told you I love your interpretation of a reader with dwarfism and since you are okay with me requesting more, can I get multiple headcanons of Gotham!Rogues x Dwarf!reader with just either simply day to day headcanons or their first reaction to meeting/seeing them? Rogues including jervis(obv Imao), Jerome, Oswald, Victor fries, Zsasz, and ra's al ghul!

The plot can be the reader being similar to the Cheshire Cat or Nightcrawler when it comes to teleportation powers. They're friends with Barbara, Selina, and Tabitha. The rogues always see photos on them on the news, newspapers, and sometimes in person but if they even get caught staring, reader teleports themself and whoever they're with away, so they don't really get a chance to talk or know them.

Like last time, only write this if you're okay with it and I'll understand if you can't or just don't want too!

Thank you tons again! - anon

‘VOULEZ-VOUS,

-GOTHAM VILLIANS X READER-

⋆ Characters ↬ Jervis Tetch, Jerome Valeska, Oswald Cobblepot, Victor Fries, Victor Zsasz, Ra's Al Ghul

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; gotham villians with a cheshire cat!reader who has dwarfism!

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!villains x female reader. FLUFF! I love readers power SOSOSOSO much! Super creative <3 Also villians being whipped for reader just cuz they can. Protective Tabitha. REALLY protective Oswald. Jerome's a bit insensitive. Victor Zsasz is not immune to a pretty girls smile. Have never written for Victor Fries or Ra's, so fingers crossed their parts aren’t too bad! Ra’s and Fries parts got a little angsty

𝐽𝐸𝑅𝑉𝐼𝑆 𝑇𝐸𝑇𝐶𝐻

♫ “Across the room, your eyes are glowin' in the dark." Voulez-Vous by ABBA

Oh, the man is completely enthralled with you. How could he not be? You're the missing piece to his wonderland puzzle.

Similarly to Alice, he believes your powers go hand and hand with each other. He rules the mind, while you have complete control of your body. His first thought when he see's you in the newspaper is simple.

He must have you.

He will do anything it takes to track you down. He finds himself becoming more and more entranced with the prospect of you working with him, partners in crime, connected body and soul. Of course those feelings of admiration become obsession.

Before you know it, the man is going lengths to find you; just like how he was with Alice. Hiring Jim Gordon as a bounty hunter? Mayhaps...

When he finally finds you at the siren's club, he can't help but be in awe. You're so small, so fragile, so unique. He wants to kiss your flattened cheekbones that look like pure porcelain. Your his doll.

"My dear, Y/N!" He's calling when he finds you, his teeth spread into a wide grin. He finds your eyes quickly turning to meet his gaze, glowing underneath the club's light. His shadow towers over you.

"You look ravishing, I must admi-" He goes to speak, just before you disappear from thin air. His mouth is open for a few moments, eyebrows scrunched.

Where did his precious little Cheshire Cat go?

Oh yeah, he's pouting. He's never been a fan of the disappearing act. But he doesn't mind. He's determined. He's played this game with Alice for far too long, he will not take no for an answer.

You'll find notes, gifts, flowers, dresses tailored to your sizing. All perfectly crafted from Gotham's most professional hypnotized seamstresses or florists.

Barbara is smirking when she finds the gifts, cackling about how sweet small little Y/N has a loony admirer. Tabitha's less than pleased, throwing out any bouquet she finds before you see them. Selina agrees, the guy's a freak.

It's up to you if you want to give him a chance <3 He would be the most devoted lover and partner if you decided too...if not a bit overly infatuated.

𝐽𝐸𝑅𝛰𝑀𝐸 𝑉𝐴𝐿𝐸𝑆𝐾𝐴

♫ “Nothing promised, no regrets." Voulez-Vous by ABBA

Uh oh! Murderous clown on the loose, and he's also 100% fixated, just like a certain hatter.

Jerome brushes you off at first, don't get him wrong, he adores your work on the city. Nothing he loves more than seeing some horribles destroy Gotham! He's a fan, if you could call him that.

It takes him some time to warm up to the idea of being whipped. But once he is, you have him wrapped around your pretty little finger.

Similar to Jervis- he can't help himself. You're powerful. You're strange. You're a freak just like him and the rest of these bad boys in Gotham! You remind him of the circus, all different shapes and sizes of people around him. You belong with him. By his side. On his side. Maybe sitting in his lap... What?

Yeah, he's not sure where that came from either. But hey, he's not complaining! He likes to think he's a bachelor, a young beau waiting for his turn in the love game! Before he knows it, he's slicking his hair back, putting on his finest and most colorful suits, and making sure his face is stapled all the way. Then he's getting his cult to crash the Siren's club. Moment of silence for Tabitha who will have to clean it up after.

The place is a shit show, people in makeup dancing wildly and giggling manically. Tabitha, Barbra, Selina and you get tied up in the confusion. It's hard to fight back against a bunch of crazies when your expensive alcohol is being thrown at walls, and you four are simultaneously tied up together in one big rope. Barbra's throwing a bit of a hissy fit.

Everyone is quiet when Jerome enters, dressed to the nines, with a loud and boisterous,

"Hey gorgeous! I'm sure you've heard of me," He speaks, bending down to your level, invading your personal space. He goes to continue, until the four of you evaporate before him. Teleported away. He's left staring at the loose ropes, smile unchanged- but eyes widened in surprise.

Oh. Okay. So that's how it's gonna be. Alright.

Jerome loves a game of cat and mouse.

He craves attention. He loves the center stage, and he will not be ignored. No no no no.

He will not leave your club alone until you confront him. Yeah, sorry Babs and Tabs. Barbara will start urging you to just "sleep with the damn clown!" while Tabitha is trying desperately to not have you anywhere near that creep.

But the club isn't all he'll do, doll! No, he'll get his cult to do more and more mass murders and sprees across the city, each one broadcasted on live television. Each time, he looks into the camera, blood on his face, professing his undying love.

"This is for you, Y/N!" He's showcasing the violence around, "Call me!" He gestures, ending the broadcast abruptly.

Well, kind of hard to ignore a man when your club is in shambles, Barbara is going batshit insane, AND you have Jim Gordon trying to find you; just in order to stop these massacres around the city in your honor.

Once again, you should give the man a chance! He doesn't think he'd make a horrible boyfriend, y'know, if you're into gingers.

𝛰𝑆𝑊𝐴𝐿𝐷 𝐶𝛰𝐵𝐵𝐿𝐸𝑃𝛰𝑇

♫ “Take it now or leave it." Voulez-Vous by ABBA

Ozzie's a bit harder to gauge, because I don't think he'd become infatuated with someone unless he got to meet them first. So for arguments sake, we are just going to say you two have meet previously on many occasions! Specifically when he's had some bad blood with Barbara and Tabitha.

At first, he detests you. He thinks you're a nuisance, and a powerful tool for the Siren's. You can escape from ANYONES grasp, and take them with you. His nose is scrunching up every time he thinks of just how he can get rid of you.

Well, if he can't get rid of you, he's well versed in manipulation. Perhaps he can convince you to join his team.

You're going about your day at the club, tending bar on a step stool, the usual. Oswald comes in, Victor trailing behind him. Tabitha and Barbara are instantly on alert.

"Hello." Oswald fixes his suit jacket, rolling his cane in his fingertips. He wears a faux smile, and Tabitha huffs.

"What can we help you with, Ozzie?" Barbara is smiling, just as fake as his. It's a weird Gotham crime boss stand-off.

"I was wondering if you, my dear," He speaks, suddenly nodding down to you, "Would like to accompany me for lunch tomorrow."

Yeah, everyone's jaws drop, including Oswald's at the silence. Oswald didn't necessarily intend for it to sound like he was trying to ask you on a date. He's flushing red under everyone's gaze, suddenly fidgeting. If you look closely, Victor's giving a lazy amused smirk in the back.

"Like hell-" Tabitha's about to answer for you, before you squint at the man.

"Sure." You scan him up and down, hesitantly. Before anyone has a chance to speak, Oswald's turning on his heel.

"Wonderful! 2:00 sharp. Don't be late." He's smiling, knowing he's got a one-up on the Siren's.

...Well, leave it Oz to have things never work out quite his way. One lunch turns into two, and two turns into three. He's forcing himself to remember why he's doing this; you are just a tool. This is all a charade!

Hard to focus though, when you two seem to enjoy one another's company. Like when you show him what it feels like to teleport, (He's closing his eyes in fear, only for it to feel like nothing.) Or when you two have a strangely intimate discussion about what it was like growing up not very normal.

He's opening up about his schoolyard bullies, about his mother. About the feeling of being taunted, teased for his nose or height. You tell him, you know the feeling.

He stares at you, eyes focused solely on you. He's enamored.

He turns viciously protective over you. Any snide comment made towards you by a henchman of his, or a frequent at the Siren's club, they are brutally stabbed to death, a bit impulsively, with a bottle shard.

When he realizes he's falling in love with you, similar to Jervis, he likes doing grand gestures to get your attention. If there's anything you desire, you'll get it. Which is why when he finds out you're avoiding him, he becomes sour.

What? Why are you leaving him? He doesn't understand. The intimacies you two have shared, did they mean nothing to you? He's hurt, he's angry, he's aggressive. He's more irritable than usual; and judging from the fact he's irritable ALL the time, it's pretty bad. If you don't explain yourself, this sadness will probably turn into anger. He already believes you two have some weird pseudo-romantic relationship, so he's taking this like a break-up. He's a vengeful ex.

Whenever he stops by the Siren's club, and sees you teleport away at the sight of him, it stings. It all comes to a head when he's breaking down in his mansion. You will have to be the one to confront him, because he'll be too busy sulking. He loves you. He doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. If you don't want to talk to him, he won't force you, even if he's going crazy trying to figure out why.

When he sees you, he's standing up in a hurry, fumbling over his words, sniffling. His blue-green eyes are puffy, and you'll have to sigh and talk to him.

Please, tell him why your avoiding him. Explain if you're insecure, if you're scared of loving. He'll be thankful for the explanation. He'll be angry on your behalf for anyone who made you believe you were unloved, whether for your dwarfism or your powers. He's promising to kill for you, tear down the city to avenge you.

"Okay, Oz, I'm not dead yet."

"Yet?!"

Cuties <3

𝑉𝐼𝐶𝑇𝛰𝑅 𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐸𝑆

♫ “Now is all we get." Voulez-Vous by ABBA

Forgive him, he’s trying his hardest not to care, and failing miserably.

Similarly to Ozzie, I can’t see him becoming infatuated or obsessed like Jerome and Jervis so quickly, not since what happened with Nora. So, I’m imagining you’ve also met him once or twice; using your powers for the sirens, just like he and firefly have done some hitjobs for you four in the past.

He’s in love with the idea of having a family; of being accepted, of leaving this life behind. It’s made him bitter, cold; but the man will do anything for love. Anything.

And it’s hard not to notice the small woman running around on her toes in the club, parts of her body vanishing here and there. You’re gorgeous to him. Those small cheshire-like smiles you send him when he’s supposed to be working. They break his hard exterior. He doesn’t know if he loves or hates it. He loves it.

Even a small pit of jealousy fills him, whenever he sees you in the news. Or when he watches silently on the sidelines, while you talk with Barbara and Tabitha and Selina. You do it so effortlessly. How could anyone not be entranced by you?

He thinks that he’s a freak. Firefly’s a freak. Just like Jerome and Oz, he definitely finds solace in the idea you are just like him. You’re one of them; a freak. Pushed out by Gotham’s careless inhabitants, forced into this life. He remembers being driven out of town by Penguins army. He wonders if you’ve expirenced the same treatment at one point in your life. He wants to show you, he’s here for you. He loves you, every part of you. No matter how unconvential or mistreated. He just wants to take care of you.

Just like Oz, he’ll be ready to kill anyone for you. Freeze em’ to death in one single sweep. Just give him the go ahead.

Victor is terrified of hurting you, as well. Not only your tiny stature, but he’s sure he’d get ice burns from his fingertips. He imagines a life where it’s just the two of you, without the cold, back when he was just himself. He dreams of cooking for you. Owning an apartment. Even having a family. He swears, he’d be gentle. But he’s too uncertain. He isn’t good enough, and he certainly isn’t good for you.

You’ll have to be the first person to talk to him, warm up to him. He might not state it directly, other than a nonchalant nod here and there, but it makes him feel special. It’s the little interactions you two have that make him fall helmet over heels.

You two will spend hours, at the club, watching from the sidelines. Barbara and Tabitha out on business, Selina doing…Selina things. You’ll poke fun at the passerby’s to get a reaction out of him.

“Oh god, I just saw that guy kissing that girl- what’s he doing with that other chick?…Oh- they are making out. Oh, okay, he’s taking him to the back. I’ll give you $20 if Barbara kills this guy for doing it on her desk.” You’re snickering, gossiping. Every now and then you look over at him to see him already staring at you, the hint of a smile on his lips. It’s all you’ll get for now…until he responds.

“…Guess you’ll owe me $20 then.” He’s firing back, voice low. It’s the first time he’s spoken. The first time you’ve seen him do something other than brooding. It’s sweet.

These little things will become routine, and he’ll find solace in them. Eventually you’ll even play some tricks with your teleportation on the clubs costomers, scaring them, bumping into them. All the while you’re watching him in the corner, smiling, exhaling through his nose. He playfully scolds you sometimes, other times he chuckles. Either way, it’s a sight to see.

God, please don’t dissapear on this man. I don’t think he could take it. Gotham be damned, if you ever find yourself scared of him, he’d be broken. He’d think it was his fault, he’d think he lost his second chance at love. If you ran away from him, he might just up and leave Gotham.

But even if you did try to avoid him for awhile, I think he’d let you go without a fight. He’d just be more sulky than usual, more prone to picking petty fights with Firefly. You might find the room uncomfortably cold, even when he’s not occupying it. (He froze the AC to the club, he was upset. Sorry Barbara.)

I think he’s the only one on this list of characters that Barbara, Tabitha, and Selina might all actively approve of. Barbara wouldn’t mind having a henchman dating her bestie; soldifies his loyalty to them. Also, he’s good eye-candy. Tabitha doesn’t have any personal issue with the man, other than previously working with Penguin, of course. Selina will still make fun of him for being a walking freezer, but hey, what can you do. You have their blessing.

If you caught him before he decided to up and leave, explain to him why you run away, why you’ve been avoiding him. He won’t just understand, he’ll practically worship you. He’ll explain himself too, why he’s terrified of touching you. It’s not because of your dwarfism, or your powers. It’s just how he’s afraid of hurting or loosing you. Loving people is hard.

If he could cry, he would. But his tears will freeze when they touch his cheek. You’ll have to show him you aren’t fragile. He’ll believe you.

You guys can heal eachother.

𝑉𝐼𝐶𝑇𝛰𝑅 𝑍𝑆𝐴𝑆𝑍

♫ “The girl means business, so I'll offer her a drink." Voulez-Vous by ABBA

THIS Victor, on the other hand, is much more brash in his approaches to courting you.

He’s heard about you on the radio, from his boss, seen you in the newspapers, on the tv, watched you from the window in your apartment.

…What? Who said that?

He studies your every move. The man is calculated in his methods, what can he say? He’s not obsessed! (loud incorrect buzzer)

He just wants to size you up a little, see who the newest danger is in Gotham. He’ll convince himself he’s doing it for his boss, whether it be Falcone or Penguin. But it definitely goes deeper.

Unlike the other villians on this list that see your dwarfism as something to empathize with, Victor doesn’t really pay it any mind. He’s been around the block a few times- he’s been with women of all ages, heights, race, etc. The man really doesn’t have a type. What he’s attracted to is strength, independence, someone who will laugh at his dry humor with him. He’s stalked you at the club. He sees the way you banter with Tabitha and Selina, the way you make Barbara dissapear when she’s being too annoying with a flick of your wrist.

He’s incredibly attracted to a woman whose witty and good at what they do. Just like him.

Victor’s more subtle in his approach. He’ll make it casual.

So when you’re at the bar in the club, sitting around, watching the passerby’s, he’ll make his move.

“Now, what’s a girl like you doing here, alone?” He sneaks up behind you, giving you a start. You flush red at the man in front of you. Victor Zsasz. The words are spoken as he drums his fingers on the bar, cocking his head at your short frame. He towers over you, caging you in.

When you don’t speak, it doesn’t phase him. You’re about to teleport away in an instant, until he drawls your attention back to him with a lazy smile.

“So…” He whistles. “What’s your drink of choice? Wait- Let me guess.” The man doesn’t stop talking, listing off drinks that are most definitely not your drink of choice.

He watches you all the time. He knows exactly what your favorite drink is. But he wants you to stay.

It’s a bit awkward, a bit intimidating, and strangely charming. He speaks with an inflection that borders on sarcasm and curiosity. It’s intriguing, coming from Gotham’s most dangerous hitman.

“Can I ask-“ You squeak, now nursing a drink he ordered for you. It’s a Vodka Cran, and it could be worse. “…Is there a hit on me?”

He stares at you expressionless for uncomfortably long, before it forms into something quizzical.

“…Nah,” His voice is slow. He clicks his tongue. “Just an admirer.”

There’s an awkward scilence. He shrugs.

“Y’know. I’m a big fan of this place. Like the ambience.” He sips his own drink, you don’t know what it is. Just as his words sound out, you swear you can overhear a gunshot in the distance, probably from Barbara’s meeting with some other underground boss. Somehow, the sentiment makes you laugh.

He perks up at the sound.

You aren’t used to this. Someone being so casual about you, your powers, your small stature. He’s a bit flirty from time to time, but between the alcohol and his quips, you don’t seem to mind. He seems oddly genuine in his demeanor with every compliment or joke that slips.

You two keep the banter going for the rest of the night. Mostly chatting about how tiring your respective bosses can be. He does a poor drunken impression of Penguin, and you do one of Barbara. It’s a relaxing night in comparison to what you usually expirence living in Gotham.

You think you only see him every so often. Coming by the club whenever Penguin comes, or when a job is sent out, and his target is there. He’ll always send you a wink when he leaves, blood on his face.

But he sees you every day.

Yeah, the stalking only worsens. If you find your phone in different places throughout the day, or your window reopened, he’s the reason why.

He’s fine like this. In his head, the two of you are going steady. He’s pretty committed. You’re his girl, and that’s that.

Until you start avoiding him like the plague.

Zsasz WILL find a way to confront you. He doesn’t care if you teleport away each and everytime. He’ll find a way to get the message clear, through other means.

If you find a “talk to me.” with a smiley face, written with some poor saps blood, on your mirror, I apologize. He’s gotta get the message sent somehow.

Yeah, he won’t give up. He’ll go great lengths to get you two back together. He’s also listening to disco break-up ballads to cope. He’s getting the zsaszettes to stalk you when he can’t. If you still won’t budge, yeah, Tabitha might end up with a gun pointed at her head until you talk to him.

He’s not necessarily angry, but chasing after you is certainly taking a toll on him. Give the guy some credit.

Tabitha, still with a gun pointed at her, will be barking at you to not talk to him. He’s a creep, he’s an asshole, and you shouldn’t compromise your honor! (His eye will twitch at her words, trigger finger itching.)

Up to you what you decide to do! Explain the situation, talk to him, make things official, or…bye bye Tabitha. And that still won’t stop him. He doesn’t take rejection very seriously.

When you tell him exactly why you teleport yourself away, he’s the only one on this list who might think it’s stupid. He’ll understand, don’t get me wrong, but this is Gotham! Why would you be insecure? He garuntees you he’s met at least ten other people with far worse skeletons in their closet. You’ll have to teach him that’s not the issue.

Yeah, our little sociopath has a hard time with feelings. But I think you two would maybe be good for eachother! Teach him to listen more, whip him up into shape, and reap the benefits of having Gotham’s number one hitman as your personal bodyguard and lover. He’ll take you to stakeouts, make fun of Jim Gordon, crash your place. You two can watch Netflix under the blankets. He loves your size- cuddling into you like his own personal pillow.

Tabitha’s very dissapointed.

𝑅𝐴’𝑆 𝐴𝐿 𝐺𝐻𝑈𝐿

♫ “I'm really glad you came, you know the stars, you know the game.” Voulez-Vous by ABBA

May god have mercy on your soul, reader. Ra’s is a sight to behold when he’s in love.

He heard whispers of your name all around Gotham. He sees you on the news when he’s absentmindedly listening. A girl who can teleport herself and others, to any location? Even the power to control which body parts you maneuver. Extrodinary.

He’s immeadiatley infatuated with your power. He wants to covet you. Possess you. Have you close to him. He needs to see your power for himself.

He’s similarly calculated in his response to tracking you down. He will appear at the club, slinking into the shadows, whispering a quaint,

“Hello.”

It makes you jump, and as if on instinct, you teleport yourself away. He marvels at the way in which you do so right infront of his eyes. How rare it is, for him to be so easily confounded.

He must see you again.

You’ll feel his presence every now and then. Maybe even catch a glimpse of him watching you. You’ll turn back, eyes squinted, only to find he’s not there anymore. It confuses you just the same.

Though, you eventually get used to him watching. It turns into a little game between the two of you. If he can catch you, if you can catch him. It’s strangely endearing.

He’s also becoming increasingly more attentive to your daily habits. He memorizes your schedule. He sends members of the League of Shadows to observe you, to take notes on how you use your powers.

If any member insults you, or pokes fun at your dwarfism, Ra’s will spare them no mercy. Yeah…he’s making it a big deal. He’s ruthlessly insulting them for their ignorance, before killing them without a second thought. In a way, you belong to Ra’s already. He will not stand for disrespect among his order.

Ra’s is a gentleman. Just like Ozzie and Jervis, you’ll find gifts littered around your apartment. Little notes from him, written in the most exquisite cursive, expressing his admiration of you. Beautiful, rare, and expensive jewelry, tailored to the size of your wrists and neck.

You’ll see him exiting Barbara’s office sometimes, when he needs her for the demons head. He’ll send you a smile, half-way gentle, half-way playful. He’s unsure where the lines between love and facination blur; but he’s slowly realizing he loves you. He hasn’t felt such a way in decades. He’s been alive for very very long. No human woman has made him feel so helpless. He enjoys it thoroughly.

He’ll confess, the night before Gotham is meant to be blown to the ground. He’ll turn up, before the events are set in motion. You won’t have a clue in the world what he’s up to.

“My dear.” He’ll drawl, and you’ll go to teleport away, as you always do. It’s tradition for you two at this point.

Before you get a chance, he’ll click is tongue at you.

“Wait.” He speaks, voice sounding strangely desperate. It makes you freeze. “Come with me. Leave the city. Get somewhere else. I’d like to show you my home.”

Your choice, if you choose to leave with him. He’d make for a very attentive lover, and would protect you at any cost. But if you choose to do so, you’ll leave Tabitha and Barbara and Selina to their own fate <\3

Not that it matters if you decide to reject his offer. He’ll have you, one way or another.

[fiddleyoumust]

I need everyone who watched episode 7 of Your Sky today and walked away feeling sorry for P'Oh to stop it.

Your Sky is doing a really great job of showing you the differences and similarities between Muenfah's behavior and Oh's. They're both hotheaded. They both have a tendency to react violently when angry.

This episode is the first time I've been upset with Muenfah. Even though it was Oh who pushed Teerak, Muenfah was more interested in punishing Oh, then checking on Teerak. It's the first time he's ever given me pause and made me question whether he's the kind of person Teerak should date.

Oh is worse, though. Sure, he shows concern for Teerak in the moment after Teerak falls, but he's also the one who put him on the ground, so that's only right.

In the aftermath of the fight, he blames his mother for his actions. She's a shit a parent, but Oh is an adult who has made bad choice after bad choice because he got obsessed with a boy who was nice to him ONE time.

Teerak is a kind person. He is also a timid person. He doesn't like negative emotions and wants to please people. It's hard for him to say no, which makes it easy for people with bad intentions to take advantage of his kindness.

Oh has repeatedly done that to him. He's pressured him. He's stalked him. He's drugged him. He's coerced him and now he's physically hurt him. All of this because Teerak was nice to him once and Oh fixated on him.

The flashback to their first meeting was important, because it shows you that Teerak never treated Oh special. He treated him the way he treats everyone, with genuine kindness and care.

Oh clearly hasn't had that in his life. I feel bad for him for having a shitty mother, but his trauma doesn't give him the right to cause harm to others. Oh doesn't need Teerak. Oh needs therapy, and it's not anyone's job to save him. The problem is, Oh doesn't think he's the problem, so he will never work on himself.

The show told us that by introducing another character at the end, doing exactly what Teerak did by being kind to a stranger, and leaving us with the sense that the cycle was about to start again. Even as Oh was shedding tears over his "love" not being returned, we could see in real time the fixation beginning to shift to a new target.

In contrast, we have Muenfah, still reeling from Teerak second-guessing their kiss. A kiss where Muenfah did nothing wrong, and got consent before he did it, and it still ended up being something that made Teerak uncomfortable.

Sometimes, we can do everything in our power to make sure our partner is ready and it still isn't enough. I kind of want this show to talk about it, because it's doing a lot right on communication and consent, and I think we need to talk more about what you do when communication and consent still end with a bad result.

The great thing about Muenfah, and one of the reasons I adore him, despite his anger issues, is that he KNOWS this is an issue. He's aware. And he's not looking for Teerak to fix him.

The conversation with his parents, where he acknowledges that his temper is a real problem that might cost him a relationship with Teerak, was so important. The fact that he says he knows he needs to work on himself so he can be a good partner is just. SIGH. I love this man.

I hope we get to see him say some of this to Teerak next week. I hope he also apologizes for what happened in the bar because it was traumatic for Teerak, and Muenfah is sorry, so he should say it. And I hope they talk about their kiss because being that intimate when their relationship status is uncertain, has left Teerak spiraling, and I think it would be neat for a show to talk about regretting consent and how to forgive yourself and your partner when things like that happen.

[longing-for-rain]

Out of curiosity, what makes you feel drawn to Zutara as a lesbian. Is it still relatable to you?

It does feel relatable to me. Obviously it’s a heterosexual relationship, but given the lack of good and complete representation of lesbian relationships in the media, I still gravitate towards certain aspects of romances like this.

There are many reasons why, but before I get into it, I want to preface this by saying that the point of this is not to say that Zutara is “lesbian coded” or anything like that so please don’t construe it that way. It’s a heterosexual relationship, period. All I’m saying here is what I, personally, enjoy about it as a lesbian.

The biggest reason I like it is because it represents female desire to me. I know the BoyMom and Pick-Me brigade hates that I’ve described Zutara that way in the past—but it’s true and I stand by it. That is the reason why Zutara became so popular and why its fanon narrative is almost entirely driven by female fans. It directly reflects their desire in a romance and what Katara’s canon one was lacking.

I honestly didn’t have strong feelings about Zutara until I saw the backlash it received. The narrative and the fans both treat Katara as if getting with anyone besides Aang makes her selfish, or that she’s neglecting some kind of duty by doing so. Katara’s voice and desire is fundamentally unimportant to the writers, because they always focused on Aang’s feelings over hers, and even though fans try to pretend otherwise, the dominant narrative surrounding this relationship has always been about Aang. How he needs airbending children, how his heart would be broken if she left, how he needs her to rebuild, etc.

And from Katara’s side, even though she never shows that she shares Aang’s level of interest, fans insist on reading in signs that aren’t really there. They also focus on logical reasons why they’d work. Aang is nice, he’s fun, he’s a prodigy like Katara, both have suffered in the war, etc. At first glance, it seems like a good match…but we never actually see the writing demonstrate how they actually connect over any of these things.

Good in theory, but bland and passionless in reality.

That narrative resonated with me in a bad way, because it’s exactly how I’ve felt as a lesbian. It reflects the pressures I’ve felt to put aside my desire for love to date a man instead. I’ve been told to my face that it’s selfish for me to “choose” another woman—a person I actually desire—over a man.

“What about children?”

“This is going to make your life so much more difficult!”

“Think of your family!”

“Jakey is such a nice guy, can’t you just give him a chance?”

“You have so many interests in common with Jakey and he has a good job! Why won’t you go out with him? It makes so much sense!”

“You’re so shallow, being fixated on looks. What if your perfect match comes along, but he’s male? Would you really say no?”

“You only want that because you’re a pervert. You need to stop being so obsessed with sex and think about the person instead.”

It’s eerily familiar, that’s all I’m saying. A lot of these ideas are used to attack Zutara and its fans nearly verbatim.

Katara isn’t a lesbian, but like a lesbian, Katara in the context of Zutara commits the crime of marrying for love and desire over duty. Some people see that as an evil act of selfishness, but to me, it’s just love.

We can’t control who we love, and I like to see the narrative of a female character breaking free from the social expectations placed on her to pursue it. No; Zuko isn’t the “safe” option, their relationship would be heavily criticized, and it could even endanger them. But that relationship is one they both feel passion for, and together, they would draw power from one another and use it for good. Their love and connection is powerful, and they would have fought hard for it. Because love is worth fighting for.

That’s deeply admirable to me, and an empowering narrative when I think about how I’m inevitably going to have to fight hard for any love of mine. But it’s worth it to me—it’s always worth it.

[vikdec4i]

Heyo it’s me, I’m here to ruin ya day

Thoughts on Mitzi and Mordecai’s parallels and how desperate they are to find answers about Altas’s death?

mordecai heller and mitzi may: a piece on grieving.

FIRST of all, i apologise that this response took a very long time to cook up. i wanted it to be as fleshed out as possible because i do have a lot to say in this regard. the train of thought initially departed because of the widespread misunderstanding around mitzi’s character. to which i thought to myself: well it’s strange that people can easily extend their empathy towards mordecai, who (to me) has undoubtedly done worse. but what’s even worse is that, if you really look closely— if we made a venn diagram for these two, there’s a large chunk of overlap between them.

(p.s. now that i am proofreading all of this i realise its a bit different from what you asked but nonetheless i hope it captures the complex nature of grief as a theme in lackadaisy, especially when discussing the parallels between mitzi and mordecai)

so let’s break it down.

if someone wanted to read lackadaisy and asked me if there were any main themes that circled around the story— i would say: grief. more specifically, the consequences of untapped grief. mean the story itself starts off with the mysterious and brutal death of atlas may, who was THE big cat behind the lackadaisy. atlas himself was an enigma, and i have mentioned this before in another post. his position within the story bears a lot of similarities to rose quartz as they play the ghastly spouse that haunts the narrative.

however, this is not about atlas, but instead the two people that served as his vessel after his passing:

his wife, mitzi, and his right-hand man, mordecai.

instead of dissecting this theme individually, finding the differences between the two, i thought it would do the analysis more justice to extract it directly from the source material itself. initially i wanted to talk about how this grieving bleeds out onto others around them (e.g. mitzi forging a check from wick, mordecai kneecapping viktor).

let’s take “hamstring” and “monomania” for example, as they both converse over asa’s claims at their lunch. but if you really think about it, it was never about that.

this scene embodies a power struggle between the two. for one, mitzi’s mentions of mordecai’s “obsession” as a deflection. she sees his rigid loyalty as both a flaw and a threat. by framing mordecai as overly fixated, she’s able to position herself as the more pragmatic party who is trying to keep afloat. which is true and mitzi, rightfully, views mordecai as a “relentless former associate.” his meticulous nature, his refusal to let go of the past, and his allegiance to ideals that no longer align with business’ survival paints him as the wildcard to her. then again, it’s hard to take empty words from someone that had abandoned the very concept he claims to protect.

that’s not to say mordecai doesn’t return the sentiment, because he very much does. to him, mitzi’s pragmatism looks more like opportunism, evident in her willingness to bend rules, and in his perspective, betray atlas’ vision to keep the business alive. while she plays the capable leader, that imagery clashes with his perception of her as someone who lacks discipline— possibly bred by the history that mordecai knows her to be atlas’ wife and nobody more. he sees mitzi as culpable in the lackadaisy’s downfall and he makes sure she knows this.

but at the end of the day, they are having this conversation inside the same car. while one might interpret this being the main divergence between the two, we can see a striking commonality in which they are failed actors starring in roles they never wanted.

what do i mean by this? while the dont outwardly acknowledge it, grief survives in this scenario as a subtext. you can tell by the use of dialogue. mitzi’s sarcastic tone and pointed remarks, almost shoving the spotlight towards mordecai, suggests a stage of denial and pain that comes with her grieving over atlas. remember what mordecai said to mitzi in response?

“losses are endemic to this business. you’ve brought them on yourself in your persistence… as though you could bring the remains of atlas’ estate to anything but further disgrace.”

his crticisim of mitzi isn’t just about the state of the lackadaisy, in fact, mordecai subconsciously targets himself for his own inability to move on. mordecai and mitzi are different people, that is no question. but this scene serves as a great analogy that this conversation could very much be happening in their heads. this is a conversation not between two people but between one and oneself.

here’s also another thing to note: their seating arrangement.

whether or not tracy meant for this to be intentional, there’s a lot you can take in this scene in regards to their character. mitzi sits in the passenger seat at the front, where the light is more prominent. it symbolises her active role as the current face of the lackadaisy and the one taking on visible responsibility for its perseverance. however, note that she is still in the passenger seat, not the driver’s— mitzi is losing control, she is struggling to move forward in the wake of atlas’ passing. but she’s still not fully in charge of its trajectory, think of how asa and mordecai looks down on her current position.

occasionally, she’d glance back at mordecai to speak, which definitely shows her discomfort and mistrust towards him, she’s unwilling to fully confront him. and in my opinion, not only does this reveal her vulnerability, this also shows her internal discontent.

mordecai, on the other hand, is sitting behind her (literally AND metaphorically) in the shadows. he sits in the back, detached from the lackadaisy but not completely. he observes mitzi from behind, his direct vision fixed on the back of her head, almost as if he’s reflecting on her choices and her struggles— perhaps… confronted with his own betrayal.

plus, if you’re thinking: what about the holes in the windows? GREAT question. despite how they want to present themselves, be it independent (mitzi) or calculated (mordecai), they’re both incredibly vulnerable individuals.

as they sit in this confined space together, they breathe in the air of their inescapable bond and mutual dependence. their dynamic equal parts antagonistic and deeply intertwined.

[scriptlgbt]

I have a deaf trans character who went completely deaf in his teens. He is on T. Is it normal for him to be very conflicted on how he sounds to people? Would he be scared, especially when he starts passing more because the voice in his head will always be his old voice? Would he try to ask people to describe exactly how his voice sounds? Is it okay if he really wants a 'cure' due to this and never cared before he came out? Doesn't actually get the cure though.

I'm hard of hearing so my qualifications for answering this are limited. I can hear my own voice. This is my frame of reference here. I hope that deaf trans people can chime in.

When my voice dropped, I could physically feel the change when I talked. I would go to say something in the way I normally would, but it would feel more strained, or I would feel my voice break. (Hard to explain this feeling... It's like a pressure just gives way and I can feel my voice go softer? I don't know.)

I think in general, it's normal to feel self-conscious when your voice is changing. People who have known you with a higher voice seeing you for the first time in a year might be surprised and comment on your voice. Mine changed over a really short timespan so I had more people notice the change and comment on it and usually people expressed they were a big fan. I had platonic friends say it was hot, even. And I think, at least in my own trans community, there's a lot of celebration when people go through milestone changes.

The voice in my head has never been of any particular range or pitch. Sometimes there's an intonation to it, and if I focus, I can imagine a sound so clearly it nearly becomes hallucination. But my normal inner voice is more of just general language, maybe even closer to text than sound. This is another one of those things that varies with everyone.

I think that the story you're describing with your questions strikes me as an unusual level of hyperfixation on this. There are definitely people who do fixate on one specific dysphoric trigger, usually either isolated from trans community or whose only trans community are people obsessed with "passing" and coming across as cis enough. This usually speaks to an unhealthy community surroundings and a very big sense of danger in some way, whether founded in reality or not.

But I also don't see why this character wouldn't want to de-prioritize voicing if he has these concerns to this extreme of a degree. We (or me anyway) live in a society which is oralist. Everyone is assumed to communicate via oral language, and this is audist (part of the oppression against deaf and hard of hearing people). This is going to depend extremely on individual access, but, if this character has access to resources to learn the local sign language, this seems like a normal option. It's only really helpful if you know other people to sign with, but that usually comes more easily once you take the step to start learning in the first place. Some d/hh people also use other means of communicating, like typing.

There are some people I know who sometimes go nonspeaking and who carry a notepad for that reason, and will use this to interface with clerks or friends or whoever else they need to. There's also AAC in general.

None of this is to say that these things don't mean facing oppression, harassment, misunderstandings and assumptions from strangers. But I do know that some of the folks I know who use nonspeaking methods of communication are sometimes gendered differently by strangers who do not hear their voice. If this is truly that severe of an anxiety, this is probably the route the character would go.

But I don't think this level of hyperfixation on this is necessarily normal. I think wishing for a cure gets into some really big existentialism, like, what if this extremely core part of me were entirely different? It also assumes that deafness is necessarily a disease that requires cure, rather than something that just happens sometimes, which might or might not be related to some pathology or pathological origin.

I'm sorry to keep bugging them with my tags, but I rec reading work by @cripplecharacters.

But overall I'd just avoid writing this if you haven't experienced it. It's a really specific kind of experience and anxiety. I don't know your identities or anything, but if you are cis and hearing, I would probably just come across this and see it as weird and almost like... making these identities into an unnecessarily traumatizing spectacle. These can be things real people experience that can be represented, but they aren't for every writer to write. Not until people from those experiences write on them and get adequate success from that.

-mod nat

[whoisneo404]

Hiiii! Could I possibly recommend a short fic between Nick and a reader that’s never seen snow before? Like maybe their from the south, or maybe even a country that doesn’t get much snow. I’ve had this brain rot of this for a while and I just can’t escape from it 😭

Snow day.

Summary: while you and Nick play videogames until you notice it started snowing, so he decides taking you out to experience your first snow fall.

Tw: cursing. Suggestive joke.

Note: YES, I took inspiration from heartstopper, I love heartstopper.

‘’You know, choosing another character won’t help you win.’’ I look at the screen as Nick is trying to decide on another character because ‘the last one was too slow’.

‘’Actually, it does matter which character you choose.’’ He finally chooses Wario, the screen changes to the countdown for the race.

‘’I know, but it’s not that much. I think you are just bad at the game.’’ I make fun of him and he punches my arm playfully.

‘’I’m not, you are just a fucking nerd who is obsessed with Mario kart.’’ I can tell he rolled his eyes at me; I don’t even need to look at his face, I know him so well.

‘’You are such a bad loser.’’ The race starts and I let him take the lead, hoping he will win at least one race.

‘’I’m not, you are just too good at this game. It’s not fair, you should play blindfolded or something.’’

‘’Uhhh, kinky. Okay, I don’t mind you blindfolding me.’’ I laugh when I see him blush.

‘’Shut up, you know what I mean.’’ He playfully pushes me and I laugh even more, and when I look at him to see his blushed cheek behind him, I see the white layer covering the trees and street. ‘’Hey, not cool. Why did you let me win?’’ He turns to face me and I don’t look back at him, my gaze is fixated on the way the snow falls and covers everything outside. Nick turns around eventually, then grabs my hand and pulls me to his room.

‘’What are you doing?’’ He opens his closet and throws a jacket and a pair of gloves at me.

‘’What? You don’t want to play on the snow?’’ he smiles at me while putting on his gloves. I feel my cheeks turning red and I nod while starting to put on the jacket and he gloves. ‘’Let’s go, I have been waiting for this.’’

Nick drags me outside. The cold air hits my face and I let out a sigh, I step in the snow and start smiling, its different from what I imagined but not a lot. Nick drops my hand and walks a few steps ahead of me, bending down to grab some snow and molding it into a ball.

‘’Oh no, don’t you dare throw that at me.’’ I start panic laughing as I also grab a bit of snow and form a ball with it.

‘’Or what? I’m not scared of you.’’

‘’You should.’’ I say and I throw the snowball at him, hitting his left arm. He makes a shocked face and I laugh; his arm immediately goes up and throws his snowball at me, hitting my back because I turned around. He burst into laughter; we start running around his yard while throwing snow at each other.

After some time, Nick walks to me and hugs me by the waist, I wrap my arms around his neck, kissing his red cheeks. ‘’I love you.’’ He whispers to me.

‘’I love you more.’’

‘’Not true. I love you more.’’ His lips touch mine; he kisses me softly. Then he pushes me, I trip and fall into the ground. Nick laughs a bit and then lays beside me. ‘’Do you like the snow? Is it what you expected?’’

‘’I like it. But I think I am enjoying it because I’m with you.’’ He smiles warmly at me and grabs my hand.

‘’I know, I’m the best company.’’ He kisses my cheek.

‘’You know what we should do?’’

‘’What?’’

‘’We should build a snowman.’’ I giggle.

‘’Oh god no. I’m so bad at that shit.’’

‘’I know. That’s why I was thinking on covering you in snow.’’ I turn my head around smiling.

‘’Nop, never. Over my dead body.’’ Nick stands up before I can grab him, so we start running around the place again. To other people we might seem like two idiots in love, and they are not wrong, we are idiot and we are in love.

‘’Come here Nicolas! I want to make you a snowman!’’ He throws snow at me and I laugh as I try to catch him.

‘’Touch me and I’ll murder you!!’’

[merakiui]

hello!! omg your newest Rollo fic... I've been thinking about it nonstop I swear!!! I'm obsessed with all your Rollo works, you just write him so creepy and obsessive - so fitting for a man who takes everything to fanatic extremes. I particularly loved the cultish religious themes in this, so in character for him.

such a chilling premise to start. mangled wings made of bone and sinew and fake feathers?? so horrifying and gorey, more like the image of a fallen angel than anything else. and the fact that an appropriate lamb had to be searched for. perhaps the righteous one had to stalk for months to find just the perfect opportunity to lure his angel :)

the fact that the handkerchief is actually darling's... omg that stuck with me. creepy down bad despicable priest can't resist darling's scent even if it means stealing her things 👀

and the stockholm syndrome? literally tearing his angel apart and stripping her bare, just to rebirth (indoctrinate) her into the religion just like everyone else, hanging on his every word. so thoroughly broken that fingering her before a congregation is definitely Normal and a sacred holy event and not a sinful perversion (not that Rollo sees a difference between the two).

the period blood too AAA!! the first time you wrote about his fixation on it I swear you awakened something in me I didn't know existed .///. that man is an absolute fiend.

I could yap forever but!!! anyway I really really like the fic <3 Rollo simps being fed generously today

-🐌 anon (if not taken!)

🐌 anon, hello hello!!!! Omg thank you so much!! I'm so happy you enjoyed the fic!! Rollo works extremely well in contexts with religious themes. I love adding all of the symbolism,,,, I've been meaning to write a cultish fic with Mr. Rollo for quite some time now. I was having the worst cramps of my life the other day and in being doubled over in pain a thought occurred to me: what if Rollo led a group of people who worship this sort of thing??? Thus, this fic was born hehe. :D

I loved writing about the gore and brutality in shaping darling into a proper angel. Or the human equivalent of one. Immediately thrust into a position of (limited) power overseen by Rollo, put on a holy pedestal and made to be this divine creature...... AAAAAA I was actually going to compare Rollo and the cult to wolves, but I felt that was straying into The Test of Faith territory. ^^;;; in any case I love the idea of Rollo searching for the perfect lamb to sacrifice and turn into an angel. <3 poor darling who had no idea of the horrors she would soon endure at the hands of such a crazy man,,,

>:D he's a freak!!! Rollo who took all of darling's possessions (that were on her person when he stole her away) so that he can essentially rewrite her entire existence,,, of course this includes minor things like her handkerchief. I think if anything's spared from flame it's that. The rest of your identity is burned away and from the ashes comes a new title, one you never wanted or needed to begin with. All while he gets to enjoy the sweet scent of darling on his (her) handkerchief.

Rollo being obsessed with periods and period blood is so delicious to me. He's such a creep,,, proving to the congregation that you're still pure because you have your period. Maybe it even keeps him in check when he's overcome with the desire to take you for himself. I think the concept of menstruation in stories is so interesting!! When they did that in Midsommar, I was so :O Rollo being obsessed with your menstrual cycle and fertility is so real to me. Sooner or later, he's gathering some for himself to put in his morning tea....... aaaa such a freak.

Thank you again for enjoying the fic!!! ⸜(｡ ˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ I will always feed the Rollo simps because I myself am so unhealthily obsessed with him!!!

[onemustalwaysbecarefulofbooks]

Why I Dislike Rhysand, Part 1: Not a Martyr Like You Think

So. . this rant has been a long time coming. I finally came to the conclusion that it would be too much to include all in one post. There are so many different things I feel the need to touch on and include that I decided I’m going to be breaking it up. Enjoy Part 1. 

I also feel the need to start off by saying that I’ve been an SJM reader for nearly ten years now. I remember when ACOTAR first came out. I remember reading ACOMAF upon its release and nearly being blown over by my intense disgust and dislike for how a story was handled. ACOMAF was released in 2016, so I’ve been holding on to a lot of this for the better part of seven years. I don’t know how many of you were a part of the ACOTAR or SJM community here on Tumblr back in those days but let me tell you. . .it was something else. The fevered Rhysand obsession and worship was WILD. The fans were CUT THROAT and had no mercy. If you even HINTED at the fact that you felt like Rhys was not All That, they came for you and they came hard. I have never been one to engage in ridiculous arguments with strangers on the internet so I kept most of my feelings to myself. It’s giving me immense satisfaction and validation to see so many people begin to express things that are so like minded with how I feel. Keep fighting the good fight!

SO! We’re going to dive deep with this and go back to before the series chronologically even started. 

A huge part of why I so strongly dislike Rhysand is that I find it very hard to sympathize with him regarding his time UTM. 

Yes, you read that correctly.

Now, I realize that that sentence alone is enough to cause a lot of people to click away from this in disgust immediately. I challenge those people to keep reading and to hear me out. I try and make it a point to back everything I have to say with canon facts and logical sense. One of the fatal (or perhaps not so fatal) flaws I have as a reader is that 99% of the time, I am not able to just let things go and absorb them at face value for the sake of an entertaining story. You can sell me just about anything and I’ll be able to find some enjoyment in it. . .if it makes sense. If something exists in a scenario that is contradictory or just plain illogical, I tend to fixate on it and not be able to let it go (I call this the Ravenclaw in me). Sometimes I almost resent that I’m like this because I feel like it prevents me from just having a good time with literature, but for better or worse, this is the kind of reader I am. 

Unfortunately, the ACOTAR series, specifically many things that have to do with Rhys and the Inner Circle, are riddled with things like this. Now, it’s no secret to any SJM reader that Sarah J Maas is OBSESSED with Rhys and the Inner Circle. Like. . .OBSESSED. I’ve truly never seen anything like it from an author. She so plainly and clearly holds these characters on pedestals and believes them to be the best of the best. She also so plainly and clearly works very hard to try and get the readers to feel the same way. This is why I say that SJM is one of the most confusing and frustrating authors I’ve ever read about. She clearly feels this way and wants US to feel this way. So you’d think, if that was her end goal, that she would simply just write characters who really ARE the best of the best and deserve to be on pedestals. Easy, right? She has total control over the actions, thoughts, and words of these characters, every other character, the plot, the narrative, the direction of the entire story. So just. . .write them as being perfect saintly beings, as you so clearly view them as?? You have the power to do this?

But here’s where the confusing and frustrating part comes in: She doesn’t.

Instead of giving us these characters who truly ARE as virtuous and amazing and wonderful as she thinks they are, she instead gives us characters who do horrific, selfish, and highly questionable things across the span of the series and then gaslights her readers by continuing to hold these characters on pedestals and laud them as being The Best In Every Way. . .while their atrocious deeds are sitting RIGHT THERE on the page being completely ignored in every way. It’s one of the most unaware and bizarre things I’ve ever witnessed from an author and honestly, from a group of readers. The amount of people who just blindly accept anything SJM says as Gospel is wild to me. I really don’t understand how people just swallow this stuff and can’t see it for what it is. Open your mind to just an ounce of critical thinking and I really do believe you’ll begin to see things in a new way. 

So. . .my point in all that being: SJM clearly wanted us to have a ton of sympathy for Rhys from his ordeal with Amarantha and his time UTM. The scene is set perfectly! Valiant and selfless Rhysand volunteers himself to play Amarantha’s whore in order to keep her attention from the city and the people Rhys loves so much. He lives for 50 years having to “service” a psychotic evil woman who actively tries to bring destruction to his entire country. Horrible, right??? Unthinkable. What he went through!!! What he had to do!!! No one has a selfless heart like he does!!!!

The only problem is. . .this entire scenario has a million holes in it. Let’s explore some of them. 

So, when Amarantha returns to Prythian, Rhys heads to her little party without any backup from the IC. He plans to kill Amarantha himself but of course, she tricks all the High Lords and captures their power before this can happen. 

Sidenote: This is another thing I can’t stand about Rhysand’s power: We are told over and over and over that he is THE MOST powerful High Lord not just of the seven current High Lords, but in all of Prythian’s HISTORY. In the High Lord’s meeting during ACOWAR (top contender for my least favorite scene of the entire series), Feyre says: 

The others, who had been watching with disdain and amusement and boredom, now turned to my mate. Now possessed a shadow of fear in their eyes as they realized who and what, exactly, sat amongst them. 

Brethren, and yet not. Tamlin was a High Lord, as powerful as any of them.

Except for the ones at my side. Rhys was as different from them as humans were to Fae. 

Okay, first of all:

Second of all. . .once again, we are faced with SJM’s convenient Whatever-I-Need-To-Happen-Will-Happen story telling. She claims that Rhys is as different from all the other High Lords as humans are to fae. And despite this, he still gets tricked and overtaken by Amarantha, the exact same as all the rest of them. His powers were ripped away by that spell just the same as all the others. Being the so-called “Most Powerful High Lord in Prythian’s History” didn’t mean anything in that situation. He’s the mOSt POwerfUL HiGH LOrd iN HiSTORy, but was able to be totally overtaken by Amarantha just like everyone else. Looks like that title really should have gone to HER!

Anyway. . .as Rhys feels his powers being ripped away, we are told that in desperation, he “threw the shield around Velaris”, binding it to my friends so that they had to remain or risk that protection collapsing and used the last dregs to tell them mind to mind what was happening and to stay away”. 

What a noble sacrifice right??

INCONSISTENCY ALERT: There were ALREADY spells and protections hiding Velaris and there had been for years!!!!!! 

The first time I read Rhys’s explanation of this, I was super confused. SJM tells it like he was the one who created Velaris’s shield and protection right there in this moment. That this act was the only thing that kept it hidden and safe from Amarantha. But like. . .this is not the case!!!! 

Don’t believe me??

“Did you even think for one moment,” I said, my voice like gravel, “to extend that luck to anywhere else? Anyone else?”

“Other cities,” he said calmly, “are known to the world. Velaris has remained secret beyond the borders of these lands for millenia. Amarantha did not touch it because she did not know it existed. None of her beasts did. No one in the other courts knows of its existence, either.”

“How?”

“Spells and wards and my ruthless, ruthless ancestors, who were willing to do anything to preserve a piece of goodness in our wretched world.”

(ACOMAF, page 144)

The Velaris Wiki page states:

To preserve it, an ancient High Lord kept Velaris a secret, and so did his descendants. There are many spells on the city itself—laid by him, and his heirs, that make those who trade here unable to say anything about the city and possess the skill to convincingly lie in order to keep the origin of their goods and ships, hidden from the rest of the world. Rumor has it that an ancient High Lord doused his blood upon the stones and river to keep that spell eternal. 

And then in ACOMAF, we get:

“I used the remainder of my power to shield them all from sight and sound. I had only enough for one city--one place. I chose the one that had been hidden from history already. I chose, and now must live with the consequences of knowing there were more left outside who suffered. But for those here. . .anyone flying or traveling near Velaris would see nothing but barren rock, and if they tried to walk through it, they’d find themselves suddenly deciding otherwise. And because my powers were focused on shielding them all, Feyre, I had very little to use against Amarantha.”

So, which is it?? Did your ancestors shield and protect Velaris or did you?? 

Do you see the contradictory writing here? 

Again, in ACOMAF:

“You are safe here, and safe anywhere in this city, for that matter. Velaris’s walls are well protected and have not been breached in 5,000 years.”

According to what Sarah J Maas herself has written, the city of Velaris already had extensive wards and protection on it for millennia. The city had been a safe haven from the rest of the world and a complete secret for 5,000 years. So I was very confused as to why it was being made out to be that Rhys made this Grand Ultimate Sacrifice to shield the city and its inhabitants from Amarantha, when this was already the case before this. She wouldn't have touched it because she didn’t know about it. . .words from Rhys’s own mouth!!!! 

I’m sure in Sarah’s mind, she just needed to make a way for the IC to not come after Rhys and try and help him, so this is what she came up with. Regardless. . .Velaris already had protection on it that did not rely on Cassian, Azriel, Mor, and Amren. You’re saying that with the last shreds of his power, Rhysand undid centuries old ancient blood protection of his ancestors, created an entirely NEW foolproof protection plan, and bound it to the Inner Circle?? 

I’d also like to point out that Kallias, High Lord of Winter, did essentially the same thing with Viviane and the Winter Court. 

And in those last moments, when his power was ripped from him by that spell. . .Kallias had flung out the remnants to warn her. To tell Viviane he loved her. And then he begged her to protect their people.

So she had. 

As Mor and my friends had protected Velaris, Viviane had veiled and guarded the small city under her watch, offering safe harbor to those who made it. 

(ACOWAR, pages 410-411)

These situations are exact parallels of each other. Kallias and Rhysand couldn’t protect their entire courts, but they were able to throw shields and protections around the one city where their loved ones were. The Winter Court was ravaged by Amarantha’s troops, we know this from the story. But evidently, this one city where Viviane was remained protected. And in this situation, I have infinitely more respect for Kallias than I do for Rhysand.

Rhysand claimed he became Amarantha’s whore in order to keep enemies from looking too closely at who he really was and who he loved. He serviced her in bed and committed atrocious deeds in her name for 50 years. All this, he claimed, to protect Velaris and his loved ones. 

So please explain to me how Kallias was able to do the same thing. . .WITHOUT doing Amarantha’s dirty work. 

As I said, I know fully well that the Winter Court in general was not spared by Amarantha. We all read about the children who had their minds wiped (conveniently by some OTHER daemati who we never learn about or hear about ever again). It sounds like Amarantha tried her hardest to destroy the Court in general. But remember. . .the Night Court is not exclusively Velaris. If you look at the map of Prythian, the Night Court is huge! It’s the largest of all the Courts. We have no idea what happened to the rest of the Night Court that was outside of Velaris’s protection. Since it’s such a big deal that Velaris is such a whole, untouched city, I’m willing to go out on a limb and say that it probably wasn’t spared any more than the rest of Prythian was. So it stands to reason that both the Night Court and the Winter Court had one city that remained protected while the rest of their Court was destroyed.

Even further than that. . .it is specifically stated that Viviane offered shelter and protection to anyone who made it to that protected city where she was. Kallias begged her to protect their people and she did. It was a city of safe haven for any refugees who could make it there. (Viviane was Prythian’s first High Lady and that’s the tea). 

Rhysand KNEW what was happening all throughout Prythian during this time. . .he helped partake in it!!! Did he think to offer the same protection for innocent refugees in Velaris during this time??

We all know the answer.

I’m not saying that Rhys was obligated to do this. In a horrible situation like that, I’m sure many people would enter survival mode and adapt an “every man for himself” mindset. It’s an extremely Slytherin move to make, and I don’t really mean that in a bad way. But at the end of the day, Rhysand prioritized his friend group over every innocent citizen of Prythian. 

Kallias and Viviane didn’t do that. 

Again, I don’t entirely blame Rhysand for this!! I think a lot of people would have made the same decision!! But just. . .don’t ask me to act like Rhys’s decision was some grand ultimate sacrifice that was more than any other High Lord made. It’s not. SJM, if you want Rhys to be my fave, why are you putting characters in here like K and V who do the more noble and honorable thing?? 

Kallias didn’t have mind powers where he was able to erase the knowledge of Viviane from every one UTM who knew about her as Rhys did with the Inner Circle. There weren’t already extensive, centuries-old shields and protection guarding the city that she was in. And despite this, he STILL asked her to protect their people, and she kept the city open for refugees who could make it there. AND he remained true to his cause and didn’t do Amarantha’s dirty work for her to “keep people from looking too closely”. 

And yet Feyre and everyone else tell us constantly that “no one sacrificed as much” as Rhys. Yeah, no. My respect for Kallias and Viviane is 10000000x greater than Rhysand. Sorry, not sorry. 

And this leads me to my next point. 

One of the biggest issues I have with Rhys’s time UTM in general, is that his actions are treated by the narrative and the other characters as the MOST sacrificial out of all the High Lords. 

As I’ve expressed above, I do not buy this for one second. And I actually find it pretty insulting on behalf of all the other High Lords!!

Rhysand’s choices and actions were entirely self-serving. He did nothing to fight against Amarantha or protect citizens of Prythian in general. It was entirely about his city and his friends. Again, I’m not saying I condemn him for this! It was a horrible situation and this was what he chose to do. People do crazy things for the people they love. But that’s my point. . .it was a CHOICE. He CHOSE to “service” Amarantha. He CHOSE to do her dirty work and commit atrocious deeds in her name. And every choice he made protected no one but the people who were important to HIM. So I’m just not really sure how/why I’m expected to feel the greatest amount of sympathy for HIM, over the other High Lords, many of whom stayed in open rebellion and never aided Amarantha. How easy would it have been for any of the other High Lords to attempt the same thing he did, and pretend to sympathize with Amarantha? Maybe not “servicing” her as Rhys did, but pretending to deflect to her side, doing dirty work for her, in order to attempt to spare their Courts and THEIR loved ones??? Did anyone else do this??? NO.

Rhys says he bows for no one but that isn’t true. He bowed for Amarantha. The other High Lords did not. 

The High Lords of Summer, Day, and Winter lost their lives by refusing to submit to Amarantha. (ACOTAR, page 284). 

And I’m supposed to have the greatest amount of sympathy for Rhysand??

People talk about how horrible it was for Rhys during those 50 years Under the Mountain. I’m not here to say his life was pleasant. But what I AM here to say is that in comparison to what the other High Lords’ lives were like. . .I find it hard to have MORE sympathy for him than the others. 

“If that was what she wanted, then that was what she would get. I made her beg, and scream, and used my lingering powers to make it so good for her that she wanted more. Craved more.”

“For fifty years--whenever I was inside her, I’d think about killing her. She had no idea. None. Because I was so good at my job that she thought I enjoyed it too. So she began to trust me--more than the others. Especially when I proved what I could do to her enemies.”

Rhys is “so good at his job” of killing Amarantha’s enemies (and one assumes that Amarantha’s enemies are, you know, PEOPLE FIGHTING FOR PRYTHIAN AND AGAINST HER OPPRESSION) and so thorough in their sexual acts, that Amarantha begins to trust him. He is allowed certain freedoms that no one else has. He is not trapped for 50 straight years Under the Mountain. In ACOTAR alone, we see him visit the Spring Court three different times. Do you think any of those other High Lords saw daylight even once during those 50 years?? 

He is clearly allowed to move about as he wants to Under the Mountain. He visits Feyre in her cell several times, seemingly without Amarantha knowing. She is a prisoner of Amarantha, but he’s allowed to do whatever he wants to and with her. 

Essentially. . .Rhys lived as a member of Amarantha’s court UTM. He served as her fuck buddy and one of her main attack dogs. To our knowledge he wasn’t tortured, starved, or forced to watch, powerless, as someone or something he loved was dangled over him. High Lords were losing their lives living in open rebellion against Amarantha, while Rhys lived with a level of security that no one else had. I am NOT saying that servicing Amarantha was pleasant for him, obviously it wasn’t. But at the end of the day. . .this was a choice he made. Everyone makes choices and has consequences of those choices. Rhys chose to serve Amarantha in bed and was given a position of power and security that no one else had. The other High Lords chose to openly oppose and resist her and subsequently had to suffer and live in terror with none of the freedom or choices Rhys was given. I honestly fail to see how Rhys’s decision was more valiant than all the rest. 

Again, this is NOT me trying to say that Rhys did not suffer at all UTM. I completely acknowledge that he suffered his own type of torment. I just get very sick and tired of him being treated as if he is the Greatest, Most Suffering, and Only Martyr in all of Prythian. 

I often say that Sarah writes all of these characters and this entire story in a way that elevates and favors Rhysand, even if in doing so she has people saying and doing things that make absolutely no logical sense. Everything that happens after UTM is a prime example of this. 

The fact that the other Courts and High Lords are so quick to trust Rhysand and work so closely with him after the events of UTM is downright ridiculous and makes absolutely no sense. All of them have EVERY reason to be extremely mistrustful, if not openly hostile to him, after what they witnessed for 50 years. I myself do not understand most of his actions during ACOTAR. Let’s dive into all of THAT.

I made a post separately on this, but I’ll still comment on it here. Rhys claims that he “thought” about killing Amarantha the entire time he worked for her. However, he claims:

“I couldn’t use my powers to harm her, and she had shielded herself against physical attacks”.

There’s nothing I hate more than contrived convenient story-telling. To me, this is on the same level as Feyre not being able to have a C-section in ACOSF. We need it to be true, so we’re just going to say it’s true. . .no matter how little sense it makes in this context. 

Rhys says that he, the most powerful High Lord ever born, had his power ripped away by Amarantha. On page 520 of ACOMAF he says, “Within a few seconds, my power belonged wholly to Amarantha”. 

But does it??? Let’s take a look at all the things Rhys is able to do with his power during his time under Amarantha, without her knowledge or consent:

Uses it to enhance the sexual experience between him and Amarantha, making her beg and scream, and crave him (ACOMAF, page 520)

Broke into the minds of the three fae who cornered Feyre on Calanmai, reshaped their lives, their histories, and then made them confess to Amarantha that they were rebels (ACOMAF, page 523)

“Against my violation, my body straightened, every muscle going taut, my bones straining. Magic, but deeper than that. Power that seized everything inside me and took control: even my blood flowed where he willed it.” (ACOTAR, page 239)

“I couldn’t move. An invisible, talon-tipped hand scraped against my mind. And I knew--one push, one swipe of those mental claws, and who I was would cease to exist.” (ACOTAR, page 239)

Broke into Clare Beddor’s mind when she was captured and took away her pain, told her to scream when she was expected to, then finally slipped into her mind and ended her life (ACOMAF, page 524)

Visits Feyre in her cell UTM and heals her shattered arm completely (where was this power to save her from a C-Section???)

Mentally controls and commands the guards to stay out of Feyre’s cell and not touch her. “If you do, you’re to take your own daggers and gut yourselves. Understood?” Dazed, numb nods, then they blinked and straightened. I hid my trembling. Glamour, mind control--whatever it was he had done, it worked. They beckoned--but didn’t dare touch me. (ACOTAR, page 344)

Enters Feyre’s mind to influence and help her during her second task

Convenient storytelling at its finest. He may not have total control over the full extent of his power, but it is abundantly clear that he definitely has control of some of it! And yet we’re told that Rhys is completely unable to do anything to harm or kill Amarantha, because she holds all his power!! It belonged “wholly to her” as he said! But he’s able to do all of this stuff without her knowledge???

Forget killing her with his power!!! Lysandra killed Arobynn Hamel by slitting his throat in the middle of the night! I’m sorry, I do not find it believable that the Most Powerful High Lord in Prythian’s HISTORY was completely unable to find a way to end this bitch’s life in 50 years, ESPECIALLY when it’s explicitly stated that she allows him certain freedoms and he does things without her knowledge. I just don’t!!!! 

So if I’M thinking that. . .what do you think the rest of the people UTM were thinking??? Can you see how they might be very suspicious of him??

In addition to this. . .his actions regarding Tamlin, and eventually Feyre, make zero logical sense in the context of their situation. Let’s take a look at THAT mess.

So Rhysand is suffering in this horrible awful torment, having to play Amarantha’s whore and do evil things for her. He hates every minute of it, he grows to hate himself, he claims. 

And in this giant mess, there is only ONE road to freedom for not just him, but for everyone. And that’s Tamlin.

“Then she cursed Tamlin. And my other great enemy became the one loophole that might free us all.”

Rhys knows about the curse. He knows the stipulations and what Tamlin must accomplish. He knows that doing so will free them all.

Wouldn't you then think that he would do everything in his power to attempt to aid and assist Tamlin during the course of those 50 years?????

I know he hates Tamlin by that point anyway, due to the rivalry between their families. But, my God. . .would that really matter at this point?? If me and my entire country were stuck in the position Prythian was in, I don’t really think I’d give a shit who our freedom depended on. It could be my greatest mortal enemy and I’m pretty sure I’d still be like Okay Buddy, let’s do this. I wouldn't say I’d LIKE it. But I’d use whoever I could to get me and everyone else out of that situation. 

If Rhysand, the Inner Circle, Velaris, and every other High Fae in Prythian’s lives and futures depended on Tamlin getting a human girl to fall in love with him, I would think Rhysand would be doing whatever he possibly could to further this along and make it happen. Don’t try and say that he couldn’t do it because Amarantha would find out. Rhys WAS able to keep secrets from her and do things she didn’t know about (see my big list up there! ^^) Don’t try and say that he wouldn't risk dropping his Bad Guy Mask because it would make people look “too closely” at him and possibly target Velaris and the IC (I would have a million comebacks to that. As I’ve already said, there were ALREADY extensive shields and protections guarding Velaris and had been for years. Rhys had wiped the knowledge of the IC from the minds of everyone who knew about them. And wouldn't the safer, better option for the IC be that the curse was broken??? So if he really wanted to protect them, this was the #1 thing he should be doing!!!!)

When it became clear to us all in ACOMAF that Rhys was not in fact, really a bad guy, the very first thing I immediately wondered was, “If this were the case, why was he not trying to HELP Tamlin all those years???” If that was their one loophole and their one shot at freedom and ending the nightmare they were in, why on EARTH did Rhys spend 50 years bullying, manipulating, and tormenting the ONE PERSON who had a shot at freeing them??!?!?!? 

Rhys tells Feyre in Chapter 54 of ACOMAF:

“I didn’t know. That you were with Tamlin. That you were staying at the Spring Court. Amarantha sent me that day after the Summer Solstice because I’d been so successful on Calanmai. I was prepared to mock him, maybe pick a fight.”

Again, do not tell me that Rhys was a slave to Amarantha so there wasn’t anything he could do. That is NONSENSE. After Calanmai he crafts an entire fabricated story to tell her and brings people he’s mind manipulated into validating what he’s saying. 

Instead of offering Tamlin support, or at the very least, leaving him alone, he chooses to terrorize him and his people. He leaves severed heads on the manor house grounds, taunts Tamlin about the curse, and taunts Lucien about his mother and his dead lover. Listen to what he says to Tamlin and Lucien, before he knows Feyre is there: 

“What a pity that you must endure the brunt of it, Tamlin--and an even greater pity that you’re so resigned to your fate. You might be stubborn, but this is pathetic.”

“Little Lucien. You certainly gave them something to talk about when you switched to Spring. Such a sad thing, to see your lovely mother in perpetual mourning over losing you.”

“She’s already preparing for you. Given your current state, I think I can safely report that you’ve already been broken and will reconsider her offer.”

This is flat out disgusting behavior. This is the man you want me to have sympathy for, to view as the “better man”. Tamlin and Lucien were even greater victims at this point than Rhys was himself. They were running out of time after desperately fighting a losing battle, with the entire weight of Prythian on their shoulders. Rhys’s actions do not make sense. He is digging his own grave by behaving this way. If he wanted himself and everyone to be free so badly, I’m really not sure why he’s going out of his way to mock Tamlin, make his life difficult, and taunt him about not breaking the curse. 

But things don’t stop there! They get even MORE illogical when Feyre enters the picture!!

So once Rhys discovers Feyre’s presence, he immediately picks up on the emotional connection between her and Tamlin. In this situation, I would expect his first reaction to be glee. He didn’t know who Feyre was at that point, other than a girl he’d been dreaming about (and he later reveals that he first believed these dreams meant that she would be the one to save them all). Did anyone really expect Tamlin to break that curse?? Did anyone really expect him to find a human girl with hate in her heart for the Fae and have her fall in love with him?? I don’t think for a minute Amarantha actually believed there was even the slightest chance of this happening, just like she didn’t really believe Feyre had any chance of winning all three of her trials. It’s a mind game, nothing more. But here Tamlin is, on the very brink of meeting the very specific standards set by Amarantha. 

But what does Rhys do? Amp up the dramatics to scare Tamlin into sending Feyre back across the wall, therefore ensuring that the curse will never be broken. 

His reasoning, he tells us in ACOMAF, is:

“I made Tamlin beg--as Amarantha had made me beg, to show him how powerless he was to save you. And I prayed my performance was enough to get him to send you away. Back to the human realm, away from Amarantha. Because she was going to find you. If you broke that curse, she was going to find you and kill you.”

Um. . .if Feyre breaks the curse, that means that Tamlin gets his powers back. If Tamlin gets his powers back, Amarantha is dead. If Tamlin didn’t do it, certainly one of the other High Lords would have. If you’ll recall, Feyre DOES break the curse and when that happens, Amarantha is dead in literally seconds. Her power isn’t brute strength, it’s trickery. She is no match for Tamlin whatsoever. She literally backs away in fear and pleads for her life. It’s not even a close competition!!! She doesn’t get a single scratch on him! 

Now, I will fully admit. . .this was also something I always found kind of dumb on Tamlin’s part as well. It’s seen as this grand act of love that he sends her away and puts her safety before all of Prythian’s but I’ve always been like. . .dude. You were literally A DAY away from getting out of this thing. Tamlin, as a High Lord with his full power returned, really couldn’t shield and protect Feyre in the time it would take him to kill Amarantha? Yes, he wouldn't be able to properly protect her under their current circumstances without any of his real power, but that was the whole point of the curse. . .if Feyre told Tamlin she loved him and meant it, his power would be returned. The way in which he would be able to protect her would not be the same. You’d think at the point they were at, both Tamlin AND Rhysand would be bouncing around like the singing candlestick and clock from Beauty and the Beast trying to woo a confession out of Feyre. Kallias was able to shield Viviane for 50 years while his Court was under direct attack, I have to believe Tamlin could shield Feyre for the very short time it would take him, or any other High Lord, to end Amarantha. 

Rhys later says:

“If there was a shot of freeing us from Amarantha, you were it. I thought. . .I thought the Cauldron had been sending me these dreams to tell me that you would be the one to save us. Save my people.”

So. . .if this were the case, wouldn't it make more sense to just get a happy little “I love you” out of her before the 50 years were up? Tamlin and the High Lord’s powers would return and Amarantha would be “bloody ribbons”, as SJM likes to say, in seconds. Which is exactly what happened. All the struggle and strife of her trials UTM totally avoided!! 

What I’m essentially trying to say here is that most of Rhys’s actions during this time were in direct contradiction to what he claimed he really wanted. If Tamlin was Prythian’s only shot at freedom for all those years, you’d think he would be trying to secretly aid him in some way, or at the very least, not go out of his way to torment him. If Feyre was in Tamlin’s house, clearly in love with him, and the Curse was expiring in one day, you’d think he’d go back to Amarantha and be like “Nope, sorry, nothing to report” and pray the two of them would get it together for the sake of Prythian. 

Essentially, what I’m trying to say here is that I struggle to have a ton of sympathy for Rhys during this time because I feel as if the explanations that are given for his behavior and actions are flimsy and don’t hold up against most arguments. He felt as if he HAD to become Amarantha’s lover and lapdog in order to keep her from figuring things out about his friends and trying to hurt them. . .who were concealed in a city that hadn’t been breached for 5,000 years and the knowledge of them had been wiped from every person who knew them UTM. He “couldn’t” kill or hurt Amarantha because his power belonged “wholly” to her. . .but he was able to use his powers in ways that worked against her without her knowledge or consent about tons of other things. He was so tormented and miserable in his time UTM that he. . .mocked and tormented the one person who had a shot at freeing them all. When he saw that Tamlin was right on the brink of actually breaking the curse he. . .manipulated him into ensuring that it would never be broken. All the while being surrounded by other leaders who did not have the luxury of shielding their loved ones in an anciently protected city, who worked to help all innocent citizens of Prythian, and who were losing their lives over their refusal to submit to an evil tyrant. I have a vastly larger degree of sympathy and respect for these other High Lords than I do with Rhysand. I find Rhys to be either very self-serving, or doing things that seem to directly contradict what he claims he wants. I do not blame any of the High Lords for being wary and mistrustful of him after UTM--it makes perfect sense that they would (but that’s a topic for another section of this rant!). This is a prime example of SJM self-sacrificing through her writing. I can guarantee you I wouldn't feel as strongly about this as I do after hearing it beaten into my head over and over what a noble, selfless, honorable hero Rhys was during this time. I’m sorry, it doesn’t add up to me. Too many holes, too many contradictions. Which, unfortunately, is pretty standard fare when it comes to Rhys.

Remember, this was only Part 1!! Part 2--Why Rhys is actually a terrible High Lord--coming soon! 

[see-arcane]

I came across your Jonathan in Hellsing posts and read and reread them enough times to burn them into my brain. The ideas you come up with are fantastic! But I was wondering if you had any thoughts on a Jonathan vs Anderson dynamic? Not necessarily physically fighting (though they definitely could) but like, in regards to their morals, relationship with god, and interactions with Dracucard.

(Ps. Obsessed w your Dracula sequel book and I hope it gets made into a movie that remains true to the characterizations you write and reshapes how the collective public views the characters forever!)

Thank you, this will sustain my gremlin of a writer ego for days

Jonathan and Anderson would have an interesting dynamic. Naturally they have to wind up in opposition if Jonathan's nominally on Team Hellsing. Anderson is fighting using holy magic and sci-fi/Christ sorcery-based regeneration and strength: Cool! He's using all of that to slay monsters: Cool! He has no filter when it comes to what he deems a 'monster,' no matter their actual innocence or level of humanity: Not Cool. In fact, it likely triggers a very specific flavor of ire Jonathan had to swallow back after seeing a certain Wafer burn.

(God is love. But that love is conditional. A truth that holds across the multiverse, apparently.)

((Cue the ringing of steel against steel. Because they've got to get into some kukri versus bayonet action.))

Actual confrontation has to happen when Jonathan either witnesses some arbitrary zealot-edged murder or he jumps to defend Seras or others from his pouncing. Anderson probably lumps Jonathan in with Alucard and Seras' situation at first--up until he learns that the only scar on Alucard's person, the fresh red line over his brow, came from Jonathan.

"Stole some sacred blade for him to play with, did you?"

"Oh no." A grin from Alucard, delighted to tattle. "A shovel spade. Just to prove a point. I do believe he might put us both out of the job before long. He doesn't need any specific toys to play this game. It's all him, Anderson. God picked a favorite whether he likes Him or not."

(And it wasn't you. He may put me down before you ever get the chance. Ha.)

((Notably he never defines what 'god' he refers to, but this framing twists the knife in Anderson better as well as making Jonathan a bit twitchy. It's complicated.))

Anderson takes this. Weirdly. He doesn't have quite the same 'Only I can do X! Only you can do Y!' fixation that Alucard seems to have about someone special~ doing the deed of killing him/being his equal et cetera. His whole deal is an obsessive need to Slay the Monsters. So he looks at Jonathan, sadly Protestant (probably? still? again, complicated), but obviously roiling with reflexive Hate for Alucard, possessing the ability to actually put the overpowered fucker down, and not doing it. Why?

"What is it they have on you, lad? Who has your leash to keep you from doing what comes natural, eh?"

Another clang.

"He's on a leash," said like lead. "He's being put to work for," bitter, bitter, bitter, "a greater good. And the sins I hate him for are long dead."

Sins slightly askew from those he recalls in his history. Van Helsing--no, Hellsing--would not let them slay Dracula back then. Enslaved him instead. Made a thrall of the one who wanted thralls. It is...somewhat uneasy to think of. Enslavement is a position far worse than destruction; it's the same way the Count meant to prey on them. He doesn't like it.

He hates Dracula. He is nauseous in Alucard's presence. But still. He does not like this. Yet where else is there for a time and universe-displaced Victorian cryptid to go?

"That power was given for a reason. Use it, lad. Put it to work against the foul things it was made for. Iscariot's got room for your like if you only repent and turn that knife the right way."

"My life was saved more than once by faith and by the faithful as you know them," Jonathan admits with a bow. "God is love," under his breath.

"That He is--,"

Slice.

Blood spills. The wounds do not heal, the bayonet cannot be gathered up in either shaking hand.

(This Power wounds monsters.)

"No. My god is Love. I have seen your God's love in action. I have been shielded by it and seen it betray the most virtuous soul in Creation. I cannot put my faith in anything so fickle. Especially not in you, who would murder a girl for her sharp teeth or strangers who dare to point out you have acted against a mutual peace. Go home and pray the pain away, Father. Now, or you will not leave with all your pieces."

Anderson exits. Alucard is going to combust out of sheer glee. Iscariot is put on alert alongside Millennium, both groups getting cagey about the concept of new unprecedented competition. Iscariot doesn't like Hellsing having another anti-supernatural ace up their sleeve and the Major and company hate the thought that someone else might have a chance at putting Alucard down (if the bat bastard allows it; he's waiting for Jonathan to juice up as a weightier cryptid for a proper throwdown).

In the meantime, Anderson ponders his cut arms, slowly healing as an ordinary man's would. He shoves Jonathan back on the same shelf as Alucard. Another monster in need of slaying--a blasphemous one of a different make. Some pagan divinity must be at his shoulder. No other. No other.

His arms ache.

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

Idk if this is a popular opinion or not, but Larian adding the option to tell Halsin that what he went through while being held captive by the drow was traumatizing and he needs to think about it is both insulting and tactless.

He does speak about it all fairly light heartedly, and he literally tells you that it’s far in the past and indicates that clearly it’s something he’s thought about a lot and has comes to terms with.

It’s so wild that he tells you that he’s healed in his way on his terms, as a 350 year old man, and people are literally raging over what?

That he’s not a traumatized victim for you to fix? That everything about his character is about growth and change and he’s incorporated what was something horrible and traumatic into his life and is now at peace with it? That just like in nature, he’s gone through a cycle of renewal and he’s reached a level of healing few people will ever accomplish where he can even joke?

Like I’m not sorry, we’re probably looking at like 150 years of him meditating and working through this. Halsin, a guy with very high emotional intelligence and focus on healing the past before moving forward (his entire arch with the shadowcurse!) and people are going to infantilize him and tell him he doesn’t understand his own experiences?

No way

Halsin also makes sure to have people perceive him in a certain way. He’s brilliant and knows the power of being able keep up an appearance. Right after you first recruit him you can ask him a ton of questions and get a lot of info on him, except it’s all very surface level and very expected even if you knew nothing about his character. This is after he just talks about seeing you as strong and trusting you too, he’s keeping up the same “Halsin the archdruid” sort of one dimensional character. Everything he says is true, he does whittle and likes honey, but everything he tells you are very small pieces.

From talking to druids at the grove and seeing his research we know he’s an adept healer both magically and in practical medicine, and he’s brilliant with biology (academically incredibly gifted) and has a deep interest in them, likely fixating on both (especially as he tells you people call him obsessed when he gets into things). So why not bring up either?

Because the more he gets into his deeper interests the more questions people have. The more about himself he has to talk about and the harder his carefully constructed “wise old archdruid Halsin” appearance is to maintain.

He’s been archdruid for 100 years, a pretty small amount in an elven life. And at only 350 he’s still young to other elves, but a druid circle fleeing disaster doesn’t want their leader to be some young inexperienced guy. So what to do instead? Embrace that other races think 350 is old, lean into that false perception since it doesn’t hurt anyone and helps your circle feel safe. Maintain a laidback appearance that falls inline with what others expect on the surface and dabble in your interests on your own time (though never hiding your interests).

So yeah, I don’t think Halsin is some emotionally daft man who doesn’t understand trauma and needs the player to “save him” and make him heal.

He did that a long time ago on his own and chooses to make light of it because 1) he truly is past it, 2) it fits with everything else about him as his WHOLE CHARACTER is based around growing from experiences (death of his whole family, the shadowcurse, losing his archdruid and having to fill that role), 3) it lets him be in control of his own narrative.

Halsin is a deep and complex character that prefers that characters in the game have a very specific perception of him unless you really get to know him.

Anyone thinking that man doesn’t know he’s gone through trauma and hasn’t healed is still stuck with an act 1, one dimensional version of him and didn’t take the time to connect the dots.

[acourtofthought]

I like your blog a lot for a long time. You have lots of great theories and There’s one theory of yours that i struggle with though and it’s that Elucien will come first because they’ve suffered more than the others. It’s not that I don’t believe Elucien can’t be next I think there is a very good chance, but this specific reason that they deserve it first is what gets me

Hasn’t Azriel been waiting for a mate or some answer from the Mother for 500+ years? (Not saying this is right but it’s the info given to us). Hasn’t Gwyn been in a library for 2 years looking for courage to go outside? Is Sjmass really going to writing the next two couples in order of who’s been more wronged? If that’s the case Helion and Lady Autumn’s story should’ve been resolved long ago. I think is purely a stan/shipper feeling to think a couples book should come first because other characters need to repent to faves before they get their happiness

For me, it's a little more involved than that.

First off, Az being hung up on Mor for 500 years and someone thinking he should get a book next for that reason is not a strong enough argument in my opinion. If he were to end up with Mor than sure, maybe that would make a bit more sense but she is not his endgame person therefore their past should not really influence his love story with Gwyn. As of November-ish in SF, we saw Az expressing jealousy over Mor when Helion asked after her whereabouts. As of December in SF, we have Az not able to admit to Rhys that he's no longer in love with Mor though he was having extremely sexual thoughts of Elain.

In my opinion, no, I don't think it's a great setup for Az to end up with his mate 9 or so months after that (because that's a realistic time-frame we're looking at here, Koschei and Beron aren't just sitting around waiting for Az's love life to happen before they carry out their schemes which will most likely be dealt with in an Elucien book. The state of Spring can't continue on the way it is for another 9 months while Az gets a girl. If he does, Az will not have spent even a single year not having been fixated / obsessed on a female for nearly the entirety of his life. I think it would actually be very healthy for Az to learn a little bit of who he is outside of his fixation on a female.

Also, Az claiming Elain can't handle the Trove, rejecting her and saying Lucien will never be good enough in one book then he goes on to get his HEA in the very next book while they continue struggling? That's rewarding his temper tantrum (again, in my opinion).

The LoA and Helion are most likely not getting a POV anytime soon so bringing them into the debate doesn't make a lot of sense to me at this point. If anything Mor probably even deserves her HEA before the others (especially Az) because she's the one who has struggled to come out to her family. She's the one who has felt scared of Az's behavior at times. She's the one who feels she has to hide things from Az otherwise he pouts and she has to feel bad about his feelings.

Why should Az, who honestly is not behaving well to most of the others (trying to undermine Feyre's word as High Lady, mouthing off to Rhys, being jealous of Lucien who is their ally, trying to hold Elain back from doing more, pouting about Mor, be the one to get his HEA after how he's acted towards all of them? Shouldn't he spend some time reflecting on how he's made them feel before he's ready to be the guy Gwyn deserves? He is surrounded by love of his friends and family yet he behaves as if he has nobody. I think his first lesson is to be grateful for what he has without wanting romance. Because that's the thing. He's tied up his self worth in whether or not he has someone and that will make his ending up with Gwyn be more about him finally thinking he can tell himself he's worthy rather than it being about a sincere love for Gwyn for the right reasons. But because love isn't going to actually cure him, their foundation will not be a strong one, his personal issues will not have been dealt with. Az wanting love from a relationship is a crutch. "if I got this I'd feel better".

And yes, Gwyn has been wanting to come out of the library but the thing with that is whenever she's ready to do so, she has a very strong support system already in place. She has Nesta, Emerie, even Cassian and Az. Gwyn has people who have supported her, pushed her to do more, believed in her. We already had the chance to here her story in her own words.

Compare that to Elain? Elain does not have that and she's the only possible FMC who we've never heard tell her story. Even Emerie got to tell her story. Elain is surrounded by people who don't think she's capable of much, who never once encouraged her to train her powers, who we have never heard how she truly feels about her fathers death or having stabbed the king or her mating bond. Elain does not have a found family so her spending another 9 months without the same support system the others have? Lucien spending another 9 months without a real home?

It's clear neither is in the court they belong so yes, I do think it would be more fair for them to not be pushed aside for another 9 months. Where Lucien is actually struggling with the affects of an unaccepted mating bond versus Az who is just pissy about not having one but is not going mad (which in canon can happen to mated males) from his instincts the way Lucien might be. Also, Lucien is not treated extremely well by the IC. He's tolerated, at times they get along but even in SF we see evidence of dismissive behavior. As of HOFAS Az has an even stronger friendship with Nesta, Cassian and Rhys are his brothers. Who does Lucien have? Who have we seen on page that he shares a real connection with? He said Vassa and Jurian are his friends but have we ever seen either of them actually ask Lucien about how he feels, what he wants? Cassian tried to strike up a conversation with Az about children, that's someone who is showing an interest in Az. All anyone asks Lucien about is Koschei or Spring or Beron and when he did try to tell Feyre about Vassa and Jurian, she made fun of him.

Also, to your point about Gwyn's trauma taking place two years ago, it did but it was only introduced to the reader on page in SF. We weren't able to read about what happened to her in real time. It's sort of like Lucien watching Jesminda be murdered. It was an absolutely horrific thing that happened to him but we didn't suffer with his character as it happened. That's not to say it makes his trauma (or hers) less valid but when we actually read about Elain and Nesta's kidnapping / being bound and gagged / forced into the Cauldron in book 2, where we read about their terror as it played out and Nesta had a chance to process the trauma on page in her own book and Elain confirmed she still has that trauma yet nobody is talking to her about it? Would it not be a logical conclusion that she also deserves a chance to have a voice since she was waiting for one ever since book 2? Where we witnessed even more trauma for her on page in book 3? Where she suffered another rejection in book 4 and had her own sister pushing her away for an entire year?

Even if Gwyn and Az don't find love right away they both have a place where they truly belong with unconditional love from their friends and neither Elain or Lucien have that. It's not even about deserving romance, it's them deserving a chance to find a home and I'm not sure why they should have to wait for Az to get a mate before they get that.

And in terms of plot, the pressing issues that affected their entire lands were the peace treaty, Beron, Koschei and Spring. From a plot perspective those things do seem more urgent and are tied into Elucien.

Sarah also said her initial plans for the spin-offs have not really changed from that first pitch (while drafting ACOWAR and finishing up edits for ACOMAF), where she knew who the first two would be about but was unsure of the third. At that time Gwyn's character did not yet exist so I don't think it's completely out of the realm of possibility to believe the characters with a confirmed / strongly hinted at mating bonds at that time were getting those first two spin-offs.

I do appreciate your comments and I'm sorry this particular stance is upsetting to you. It's really just my opinion though, no more valid than anyone else's.

[theyanderespecialist]

Base Yandere Niffty Headcanons: An OCD Yandere's Hyperfixation (Hazbin Hotel)

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am finally back with a new chapter! This one is FINALLY the base headcanons and traits of Yandere Niffty! I hope you enjoy this!]

(Disclaimer: Niffty well she might be yandere in canon, but it is not confirmed yet. She might be yandere in canon! Either way, this is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine! Just do not be illegal or gross about it! You know who you are, you dirty, flaky, biscuits! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life! Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon!) 

-Base Yandere Headcanons With Niffty From Hazbin Hotel-

.Niffty is a woman who has OCD. This also affects her yandere side.

.She is a very obsessive yandere. Where she cannot control herself with her yandere side.

.She is boy crazy mainly but when she meets you she becomes (Name) crazy. All her obsessive nature and obsession goes onto you.

.It does not matter if you are a bad darling, she will still adore you.

.If you are a good darling you will be her good darling and her good spouse.

.If you are a bad darling she will show you just how much she loves bad darlings.

.She is such a yandere to have a shrine for you, where cuts off bits of your hair and or fur for her collection and her shrine for you.

.She would steal your clothes, toothbrush, pillowcases, sheets, anything you touch really, and so much to her.

.She is a bit of a neat freak though but also loves mess.

.So she would roll around in your dirty clothes smelling them before she washes them.

.She is very impulsive so she would take a lot of your stuff by impulse.

.She will also try and be the perfect housewife for you, it does or matter if you are also afab.

.She thrives on being the perfect housewife for you.

.She does not like anyone else taking care of you that is her job! You are her spouse! Hers, and HERS ALONE!!!

.She is for sure stalking you and always watching, as she is a very hyper-fixated yandere.

.Just like with the roaches, she will be teaching rivals a lesson, by killing her rivals in front of anyone else who could take you from her.

.That is her warning that if they try and take you from her, she will kill them as well.

.She is also sadistic and Chaotic, gleefully stabbing her rivals in their legs.

.Even if someone were to just smile at you, she would be lunging at them and gleefully stabbing them in the legs for doing it.

.This is another part of her impulsive yandere side, she would deal with rivals quite sadistically and impulsively.

.She has no chill, to be honest. She goes in head first and does not stop.

.She goes from a quick kill of a rival to torturing them for days on end.

.it depends on how she feels that day.

.She is also completely insane and watches you while you sleep.

.Sometimes having impulsive thoughts that range from kissing you in your sleep to cutting off your leg so you can never ever leave her.

.She is truly completely unhinged.

.She also would be into punishing you.

.You want to be a bad darling and flirt with other men and women then she will spank you.

.you want to look at other men and women, or to dare have a partner that is not her?

.Well she will teach you a lesson, a lesson on how to be a good spouse and darling.

.When she is done with you, you will be the perfect spouse and darling!

.when she confesses to you she is giddy but so close to snapping as well.

.If you say yes she is over the moon and then she will be planning your and her's wedding.

.She probably already had been planning the wedding and now just has to get everything together.

.The wedding would have to be perfect! Her OCD really kicking in With her yandere love for you.

.So that the day she married you is the most perfect day in both of your lives!

.Where she becomes your official wife and you can never ever leave her!

.It is until death do you part after all!

.If you are to say no, she tells you that you are being silly. That you are playing hard to get.

.It will only get worse as she falls into full delusions that you and she are already a couple.

.She spirals quickly into these delusions and embraces them, even telling people you are her spouse and that you are just being a silly spouse.

.eventually she will snap and knock you out, locking you away somewhere she only can find you.

.if you try and escape, she will cut off your leg, to make sure her darling spouse does not run away.

.she would claim that you are confused or sick, that she is taking care of you.

.That she is protecting you and keeping you safe from harm.

.She would for sure gaslight you until you broke.

.So that way she can build you back up.

.Do not worry silly spouse, she will be the perfect wife, she will take good care of you.

.You both will be the perfect happy couple, one way or another!

.This is of course if you said no, so it is best that you accept her love, and become her spouse.

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS Another chapter is done! I hope you all enjoy this, and stay sexy, all my sexy muffins!!!]

[mayajadewrites]

Levi Ackerman x Reader: Almost

Chapter Six: Coffee Ice Cream

Chapter Summary: We start off in Levi's POV, getting more insight on him and what he's thinking. He invites you over for TV and some ice cream. Nothing more. *tehe*

Fanfic Preface: Modern AU Levi Ackerman x Reader fanfic I’ve been dying to write! Levi is my latest hyper fixation so this was bound to happen. There will be other AOT characters in the mix, but remember this is a modern AU!

WARNING: SMUT AHEAD

ao3 link

☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕ LEVI ☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕

It's been a few days since our little incident. I didn't want to come off as obsessive, which I may or may not be, but I knew if I wanted this to last and bloom I needed to give her space to continue to be her own person.

"Mr. Ackerman, I've meal prepped for you for the next week and there's a load of laundry going." My housekeeper, Daisy, says as she fixes her apron. "Is there anything else you need me to do?"

"No, thanks Daisy." I nod for her to dismiss as I walk through my mansion.

Honestly, I'm not sure why I have a housekeeper. No one cleans like I do. I guess I keep her around for the cooking since I'm shit at that. Cleaning has always relieved my stress and makes me forget where I am in the world.

I didn't start off as a millionaire, almost billionaire. I started at the very bottom, with my mother.

We used to live in homeless shelters and sometimes strangers couches, until she fell ill because of our living circumstances. I watched my mother wither away in front of me, like a rose.

"Levi, promise me you will be something." I remember she said to me as she was taking her last few breaths. "Mommy will always watch over you."

Then she was gone.

Social services picked me up after that and I went to live with my aunt and uncle. They lived comfortably in middle class with no kids - lucky me.

I'd like to think mom would be happy with how far I've come.

☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕

"Levi, your new assistant starts today. Don't run her off, please." Hange gives a pleading look. "She's nice."

"Nice and competent are two separate things." I continue to jot down notes from a contract I'm reading.

"Levi, this is Juliet. Your assistant." Hange walked into my office with, who I'm assuming is Juliet. She's young, with long blonde hair and brown eyes. Conventionally attractive.

"Nice to meet you Mr. Ackerman. What do you need me to do first? Do you want me to get you coffee?"

"I don't drink coffee. I drink tea. And I get that myself." I look up from my desk. "Hange, have her go over my schedule for meetings next week and make sure everything is in order."

"Sure thing boss." Hange left with Juliet, closing my door gently behind them. I have a therapy appointment today, thankfully it's virtual. I open my laptop and sign into the portal to initiate the meeting.

"Levi! You look good!" My therapist, Maria, smiles.

"Thank you. The camera probably smooths out my skin."

"So, tell me about your week. What are you feeling, what's going on, all that jazz."

"I punched a guy in the face last week."

"Levi! What did we talk about with your anger?"

"I did think it over. I thought before I punched, and after. I don't regret it."

Maria shook her head, bringing her glasses to the bridge of her nose. "Ay dios mio, you make my job so hard sometimes."

"That's why you get paid the big bucks, right?" I let out a rare chuckle.

"Why did you do that?"

Because he was touching whats mine.

"I thought he was going to take advantage of someone."

"Who's this someone?"

"I don't want to tell you about her yet. Then that means its serious."

"You punched a man because of her, that's not serious enough?"

"No. It's not. I'm 30 years old, Maria. I've never had a real relationship so I'm navigating it the only way I know how."

"Levi, she is not your mother. You can't treat her like she is a fragile human being. She has feelings, like you, and she is her own person. Does she want to be serious?"

"I'm not sure. We're ... dating? I guess that's different from being in a relationship."

"Ah, taking things slow. I see. Well, tell me about her."

"She works at my favorite coffee shop that I go to every day before work. Except I get tea. Anyways, I've seen her almost every day for 6 months and I've had long and short conversations with her. Only recently have we started seeing each other."

"And what are you scared of?" Maria's question stumped me.

I'm scared of everything.

I'm scared of losing her. I'm scared of losing what I have. I'm scared of starting a family only to have it ripped from me.

"Levi?" Maria snapped me out of my thoughts.

"I'm scared of, a lot. My feelings scare me. I feel, protective over her. I feel like I want to savor every moment we're together. I'm also scared she's going to run off once she truly sees my life."

I'm rich, like, filthy rich. She works hard for her money, lives alone, and has dreams of opening her own coffee shop. Which I can help with.

She's used to doing everything for herself. She doesn't have a housekeeper, a chef, none of that. She cooks, cleans, and does everything herself.

Everything I want in a woman is in her.

"You can't go around anticipating people leaving." Maria tapped her pen on her notebook. "You know what I say, everything happens for a reason. There's a reason you connected with her and there's a reason you feel the way you do about her. I don't think it would hurt to explore those feelings more."

After your therapy session, I decide I'm inviting her over for the first time. I want her to see how I am, in my house, and I want to observe how she is.

Me: Are you busy tonight?

Her: If by busy you mean I have a date with a pint of coffee ice cream and Grey's Anatomy, then yes.

Me: Would you like to do that here?

Her: Here is where?

She's gonna make me work for this.

Me: Here as in my house. I'll pick you up at 7.

☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕ BRATTY BARISTA ☕︎⋆˙⟡♡☕

After getting ready for Levi's, you take a look at yourself in the mirror. Your outfit consists of leggings, crew socks, sneakers, a low cut tank top and a zip up hoodie. You can't lie, part of you wants Levi to continue what he started at your place last week. The other part of you is scared shitless to go to his mansion.

At 7 PM sharp, you hear tires roll in front of your place. By the time you lock your doors, Levi is waiting outside the passenger door for you. He kisses your cheek before letting you in the car, scanning your body.

You study the drive from your place to his - about 20 minutes. Levi lives in a rich, residential area with plenty of land to spare.

Walking into his home, it's spotless. Like, actually spotless. No dust anywhere, nothing is out of place, even the remotes on his coffee table.

"I bought some coffee ice cream and I have Netflix set up for that show already - Grey's what?"

"Grey's Anatomy. You're watching it with me?"

"I was serious when I asked you if you wanted to do that here. Can we start from the 1st episode?" Levi grabbed 2 spoons and the pint of ice cream.

"Sure." You walk over to the couch, which looks like a cloud, and sink your body into it. So this is what it's like to have money.

Levi pressed play, opening the pint. He plunged his spoon into the ice cream as neatly as he could, bringing it to your lips.

You open your mouth slowly, letting him insert the spoon into your mouth. You stare at his eyes as you lick the spoon, getting lost in the clouds that live in his eyes. He pulled the spoon out of your mouth, taking a scoop for himself.

Levi had coffee ice cream residue on his bottom lip, which he quickly licked away. You stared at his chiseled jawline as he watched the show, his eyes moving back and forth with the scenes.

Eventually Levi put the ice cream away, knowing we would eat it again later. As he sat down next to you again, you couldn't help but notice a bulge in his pants.

We meet again.

Levi put his arm around the back of the couch, leaning back so his chest was stretched out. You could see his collarbone peeking out of his shirt, along with his sculpted muscles.

"You're not even watching, brat." Levi interrupted your daydream.

"I'm watching something else." You turn your body toward him. "It's much more interesting."

"What do you mean? I think it's ok so far -" Levi directs his attention back on the tv, getting lost in the plot.

You took advantage of this moment and unzipped your hoodie a bit, exposing your cleavage. He didn't seem to notice, but he will soon.

You slide into him, making sure he can feel your body against his. He looks down at you through his jet black locks, seemingly by surprise.

"What-"

"Shhhh." You press your finger to his lips, pulling your leg over his lap so you're straddling him. "You can't talk until I'm done. I mean it. Not a word." When did you suddenly get bold?

Levi's erection was more prominent now, pulsing against your thigh. You trail kisses down his face, neck, chest, and eventually you snake down to your knees, in front of his belt buckle.

You look up at Levi, who's mouth is open like he wants to say something.

"Remember the rules, Mr. Ackerman." You wiggle your finger, unbuckling his belt. "Not a word until I'm done."

His belt slid off with ease, as you pulled his slacks down to his ankles. His dick print through his boxer briefs startled you, but you're not gonna stop now. You spread his legs, pushing yourself in between them.

You drag your fingertips down his stomach to his pelvic region, tracing the 'V' line gently. You glanced to look at Levi, who's eyes were dead set on you.

His underwear came off, and his dick slapped his abs. Your eyes grew wide from his size, knowing you might have bit off more than you can chew.

You take one hand and start pumping his dick slowly, brushing your thumb over the tip. Pre-cum leaked from the slit, motivating you to pump harder.

You take some of the pre-cum from your finger and slid it into your mouth with a 'pop' sound. Levi groans, letting his head fall back.

You bring your lips to his tip, sucking it gently while pumping his shaft. You could not take all of him in yet, but you will. Your other hand starts massaging his balls, which hitched his breath. Your tongue caressed every vein in his dick, paying special attention to the tip.

Levi finally put one of his hands in your hair, directing you on his dick. You took more and more of him in, eventually hitting your gang reflex, but you didn't care. The look on Levi's face is worth it. He whimpers as your tongue cascades along his length, the sounds alone causing him to almost overstimulate.

Levi moaned your name before you felt his dick start pulsating in your mouth and his hand pulled your hair roughly. "Where do you want me to cum?" Levi said with short breaths.

"In my mouth."

It was less of a mess that way.

That must have sent Levi over the edge. He unleashed his load in your mouth, holding your hair tightly.

You snake your body up to his face and smile, swallowing his load.

"Fuck." Levi caught his breath, kissing your lips gently. "My turn." Levi pulled you onto the couch, laying you down horizontally. "But you can be as loud as you want."

Levi slid your leggings off, revealing your hot pink thong. He played with the straps before sliding them down your legs, kissing your thighs as he passed by.

Your core was drenched at this point from sucking his dick alone, and seeing him at your pussy sent you to another planet.

He slid two fingers in without warning, pulled them out, and sucked them while keeping his eyes on yours. "What a good girl. So wet for me." Levi started pumping his fingers, curling at your clit.

"Levi.." You moan his name, curling your toes. Levi presses his hand on your stomach, sitting his face in-between your thighs. His lips touched your pussy, sending electricity up and down your body.

The entire time, his eyes are on you. Watching every face you make, listening to every moan. Levi ate pussy like it was his last meal. His tongue and fingers invaded you and made it their home instead. Your walls started to pulsate as his tongue went in and out of you, devouring every last drop.

"So beautiful." Levi mumbled against you, curling his fingers one last time before the world went away around you. The feeling is euphoric. A man hasn't made you feel like this, ever. You've pleasured yourself enough to give yourself an orgasm, but this is different.

"Levi." You moan loudly, gripping his hair, riding out your high. You could not focus on one thing - there were no thoughts in your head. Levi ate you through your high until your legs were shaking uncontrollably.

Making his way to your lips, Levi kissed you gently, the sheen of your arousal all over his mouth.

"I wish I could savor this taste forever." He groaned, putting his hand behind your neck and pressing you into him gently.

His lips moved with purpose, making sure every inch is taken care of. Your lips are plump from all the arousal, your heart feels like its beating out of your chest.

"Do you still want to watch Grey's Anatomy?"