#I wish people didn't think of him as a bad person simply because he can't function without his drinks tho :[

[trouble-warning]

blorbo!!

This is my version of the silly silly boy and yes I'm only gonna give these skellies three digits per appendage bc it's easier on me and also makes them look a little less human, the number of spine segments and ribs is still up for debate though XD

also his rainbow freckles when he blushes are always forgotten and that makes me sad so I made two lil doodles of him all happy and blushy :]

anyway I'm barely processing that I made this. I love it so much and like, my, my hands did this??? Are you, no you're joking because there's no way I was able to produce something that gives me so much dopamine and seratonin-

[nnight-dances]

XOXO, YOU MIGHT BE MY NEXT!

PAIRING: lee anton x fem!reader

GENRE: short n' sweet moments!!!!

TROPES: friends to lovers, college au, turning 20 existential dread inspired by yours truly, flirting friendship dynamics, no drama in this one because i'm sick n tired bro

WHAT TO EXPECT:

Something about Anton had changed ever since he turned 20 and you could not put your finger on it. All you knew was he had made it his mission to fluster you and letting him catch a hint of what he was doing to you was a bad idea...

"I can't believe I'm no longer a silly little guy in his teen years," sighs Anton. Had the speaker been a remotely more predictable person than Lee Chanyoung, decidedly the king of "never let 'em know your next move," you would've at least pretended to be amused by his statement.

Instead, you echo his sigh with your own. "Come on, there's no way you're still whining about this. You used to cry about being stuck a nineteen year-old and being called a kid, and now that you're not? You're crying about it, too!"

Anton frowns at your sharp but resoundingly true words. He crosses his arms, leaning closer to you across the table, his eyes taking on a candid gravity. "I'm serious this time, Y/N, I'm spiralling. I feel like I should be doing… more?"

You blink at him. Count on Anton to have an existential crisis in the library of all places. You could've even get get vulnerable with him right now if you wanted, what with the mobs of students surrounding you, chattering away in their own circles. 

You pat his arm across the table, feeling the soft fabric of his baby blue hoodie that always sat so well with his eyes.  "It'll be fine, Ant, you're doing enough as it is. You're a good student and a good friend, too. That's more than a lot of people can claim."

He doesn't hide the small smile that creeps onto his face, "You really think so?" Then, he tilts his head and like a switch turning, his smile turns flirtatious. "But that's all you think of me as? A good friend?"

You stare back at Anton, at a loss for words at his sudden change in demeanour. "Well, yeah? Aren't we…?" you ask the question hoping he'd drop the act and laugh it off but his smile is only morphing further into a smirk the more flustered you get.

Feeling your ears warm, you avert your gaze, suddenly incredibly intrigued by the laptop screen of a girl working a table away from you. You think about Anton and how the two of you had always been closer to each other, compared to the rest of your friends. Maybe it was only because your schedules always matched up, allowing you to grab meals together and hole up in the library after. Maybe it was because you lost track of time when you were with him, laughing at something stupid or spouting something stupid yourself just to watch him laugh with you. 

You couldn't say the possibility of being something more to him hadn't crossed your mind. Of course it had, Anton was the most charming guy you'd been around for a while and you felt comfortable with him like with nobody else. And it was that comfort that was the very reason you didn't feel the need to pursue more with him: it was enough to be his friend. 

But something had changed about him ever since he turned 20 a week ago. You don't know where to pin the feeling that he'd changed but he'd become more… direct. For example, the night of his birthday, you'd decided to show up at his door to wish him in person at exactly 12 am. He'd been thrilled to see you and pulled you into a hug. A completely normal hug. Just a little too long for two people who were just friends. But you had been more than happy to feel his warmth so you didn't mention it. When you did finally pull away, Anton had chased you face, planting a kiss on your cheek out of the blue.

It had caught you off guard like nothing else. You'd stared at him, not unlike how you'd looked at him a few minutes ago, turning hotter by the second. But he'd simply grinned the purest grin ever, thanking you sincerely for wishing him. 

With that and his sudden question of your relationship with him, you didn't know what to think anymore. 

Anton has gone back to his work by the time you come back to your senses, as cool as ever. You can hear the hum of the music in his earbuds as he types away at his computer. You really don't know what to think, with his flirting and nonchalance after. God, you think you might drive yourself crazy.

And you desperately want to keep your sanity so later that night, on your walk back home from the library, you try to hint at it. "Hey, you know…" you start, catching his attention, "I feel like you've changed somehow… since you turned 20."

He looks amused at your admission, brows quirking up, "Really? Please, do say more."

"Well," your eyes jump from his to your shoes and then back, "Like you're acting different."

"I am?" his cheeks rise, "Is it weird?" 

You note that he doesn't ask you how he's acting different, implying he probably knew what he was doing. The thought of it being on purpose only rattles you more. 

"Not weird, no," you breathe, "I'm just not used to it, I guess." You hate yourself for not knowing where you were going with his. Anton might as well think you were the weird one for reading into his actions so much without having a proper reason to. 

But before you can backtrack on your observation, you feel Anton's hand brush against yours. You look up at the contact and then, his fingers interlace with yours, a soft tug bringing your joined hands into his pockets. 

Your heart nearly catapults itself outside of your chest at the sudden touch. All while Anton watches you but you turn coy, looking away. 

"Is this okay?" his voice is low, so as to not startle you. As if you could possibly be any more startled than you already were.

You look at him once again and his eyes are sincere, as sincere as his hand is in yours, keeping you close to his side. "Yeah, it's fine," you hear yourself saying, as if you didn't belong to your own body anymore. 

You walk back in silence but warmer than ever, with Anton's hand enveloping yours the whole time. You feel dizzy with the weight of his touch and with the confusion of it all. 

He walks you to your room without a word and when your hands finally part, he gives you a soft smile. "Good night, Y/N." You nod, unsure if you could form any words right now. You turn to unlock your room when Anton speaks up again: "Oh, and about earlier? You might wanna get used to it." 

You spin to face him but he's walking away without another look at you and you swear your knees all but give out under you with how weak you feel. Your words from earlier come rushing back and your heart races even in your own company as you enter your room. Anton might just be the death of you at this rate. 

— 

The next day you retain your composure for the most part, all thanks to the fact that you don't encounter Anton as often as usual because you have back-to-back meetings for club activities and a class project. But the feeling of accomplishment vanishes as soon as you spot him outside the study room where you'd met up with your project-mates. They leave, biding you goodbye and side-eyeing the boy outside, clearly waiting for someone. 

"Anton?" you call out, slowly approaching him. He looks up with a beam, "Hey! You're finally done?"

"Yeah, but what are you doing here?"

"You said you'd be here for your meeting so I thought I'd come pick you up."

You faintly recall shooting him a text about not being able to meet up at your usual spot because of your group meeting but hadn't expected him to show up there.

"Oh, I guess that's nice of you," you say.

"You guess?" Anton echoes, sulking, "Come on, Y/N. I've been sad 'cause I didn't get to see you all day and that's all you have for me? We have a lot of work to do here."

You're in a daze the whole time he's speaking, watching his lips move and feeling your stable headspace slip farther away from you. "No, I mean, I'm glad to see you, too. I just didn't expect it." 

"Told ya to get used to it, didn't I?" he shakes his head like it's the most obvious thing in the whole world. "Anyway, are you free for the night now?"

When you nod, he goes on. "You wanna come over and watch a movie with me? I've been wanting to watch it for a while now but I never got the chance too…" He goes on to give you a brief synposis of it and you can practically feel the excitement radiating off him. 

You laugh at his genuine enthusiasm and agree without a thought, forgetting your current weakness around him.

Which is why it only dawns upon you when you step foot into his room to find it to be oddly… small. Is it the same size it had always been? Yes. Had you been alone in it with him before? Also, yes. But had it ever felt like you were going to pass out from anxiety because you were all alone with him before? No. 

You plop onto his bed without a word and if Anton notices your zoned out state, he says nothing. He takes his coat off and hangs it up, tapping your shoulder. "You sure you don't want to take your jacket off? It's kinda warm in my room." You nod, having forgotten to slip your jacket off. You hand him your jacket with a soft thanks. 

You hate to be the shell of a person you are right now, so you make yourself comfortable, sitting against the wall with a cushion for your back, taking your boots off. You pat your chest as Anton is busy setting his laptop up in a position for both of you to watch on his bed. When he finally takes his seat next to you, settling closer than he usually does, you tell yourself to stay calm and enjoy the rush of feeling his arm brush against yours, instead of letting it unnerve you. 

It helps to let the feeling be, instead of running from it. You relax in your own skin, finding the peace to finally focus on the movie instead of the boy next to you and in your heart. 

It's a sweet movie, as it turns out, even earning a few tears from you as the ending credits roll in. Anton hits pause on the movie, shifting to look at you. You half-chuckle through your tears, wiping them haphazardly with the back of your hand. 

Anton catches your wrist in his, pulling it away from your face and to his lap. His thumb replaces your hand, gently wiping at your cheekbones. "I'm guessing you liked the movie then?" his voice is tender, not mocking like you might have expected. You nod, "Yes." 

"I'm glad. I wasn't sure you'd be willing to spend time with me alone after… after yesterday," Anton says, his lashes hooding his eyes as he speaks, tone suddenly coy, "But I'm glad what I said didn't make you uncomfortable." 

"...you were worried?" you ask, shocked at his shy revelation.

"Well, yeah, I was worried when I didn't get to see you the whole day today that maybe you were avoiding me. But that was just me overthinking things. I'm scared to fuck things up with you."

You find yourself smiling at his sincerity. "You're so cute, Anton." 

The words slip out of you before you can filter them and the boy's head bobs up in shock at your compliment, and you both sit in silence, staring at each other's flustered faces. 

And then you both break into laughter at yourselves. "What are we even doing?" 

Anton runs a hand through his hair, "I don't know, Y/N. What do you want us to do?"

You rest your head against the wall, humming, "I want us to stay this way. To be with you." 

He chuckles, "I feel like those are mutually exclusive events, no?" 

"They don't have to be," you mumble, reaching for his hair, just so you can feel the soft strands tickle your skin. "I'm happy with you, Anton."

Anton's hand finds yours in his locks, bringing it to his lips as he kisses your knuckles. "I like being with you too, Y/N. But I want more. Maybe I'm just being selfish, but I want you, all of you."

His words would've sent your heart into paralysis had they been uttered a few hours ago but having been lulled into the comfort of his presence for a while now, having attuned yourself to your own feelings at last, you feel a soaring feeling, like you had finally found something you had been looking for this whole time.

Anton's pulling you closer, his hand encompassing yours as his face overwhelms your vision. "Kiss me already," you urge him and just like that, his lips find yours, with a crash that makes you giggle a little. The force of his warm lips sways you a little and Anton catches you in his arms, pulling you into him by the waist. 

"Can't believe I finally did it," you hear him whisper when he pulls back, looking at you in awe. "You don't understand how long I've been wanting to kiss your damn face." You laugh into him and he hugs you tight. "God, when you showed up at my door on my 20th birthday, I swear it took me everything to not kiss you right there and then."

"If I recall correctly, you did kiss me," you remind him, "Granted, it was on the cheek. But you could've sped the process up had you just kissed me for real."

Anton glares at you, "You're saying that? Really? After you went mute because of said cheek kiss? If anything, I was being considerate. Plus, I would kill to see you go that red again."

"You jerk! So you were teasing me on purpose!" 

"Well, yeah? What kind of a guy would I be if I didn't flirt with the girl I like a little just to enjoy how she reacts? It's the cutest shit ever!"

You hide your face in his sleeve, "You suck. I lost sleep over that, you know."

"Good to know that it wasn't just me, then." Anton's arms wrap around you so naturally that you can only wonder if this was really your first time being intimate with him. 

When you rise from his arm, his lips capture yours again, urgently like he was running out of time. You return his fervor, just as desperate in your desire as he was. That night, you fall asleep in Anton's arm, feeling his heart beat next yours as you dream away. 

– 

It takes you a second to get used to the feeling of Anton being your boyfriend. Because in many ways, it's the same as always: him picking you up from class to eat lunch together and spending your time together struggling with coursework. But now there's more to it: you walk home, hand in hand, and spend your nights together.

"Hey, you wanna come over and make out after you're done with this meeting?"

You snap around to glare at Anton when he whispers the question in your ear. You hit his arm and he laughs boyishly, shrugging, "What? I'm just being real because you and I both know that's what's gonna end up happening–"

"You're outrageous, Anton," you shake your head, "We don't always–! Well, maybe most of the time, yes, but–" He cuts you off, pecking your cheek. "Yes, yes, whatever you say, babe. I'll see ya in an hour." 

– 

[wonwoonlight]

in this time or the others / choi seungcheol

notes: 1.3k // nothing but pure, sweet people in love lol // seungcheol brainrot. happy bday to the only man ever 🖤

[ ❀❀❀ ]

Oftentimes you would look at Seungcheol and wonder what you did in your past lives to deserve the chance of being with him.

You don’t know if your time with him is borrowed or not, and you’re not sure why your love for him seems to be the most secure of all kinds of love that you’ve experienced throughout your life, romantic or not.

It doesn’t make sense how steady your feelings are for him, unchanging (unless when it’s getting deeper) and never stopping, almost like you’ve always known how to love him. Like breathing. You just know how to do it without anyone ever teaching you how to–it’s natural and you can’t be without it. Quite literally at that, too.

You’ve never been this secure when it comes to relationships–what with your mostly bad experiences with them and everything–but it’s easy to fall in love with Choi Seungcheol even before he starts loving you back. It’s easy to drown in his eyes and get captivated in his existence. If this is how love is supposed to feel, like a dream you don’t wish to wake up from, then you hope you’ll be stuck in this feeling forever.

That word doesn’t even scare you anymore. Thinking about forever with Seungcheol only brings smiles to your face, even though in your life prior to him it scared the shit out of you due to its uncertainty and the insecurity your head would fuel your head with.

“Why are you smiling to yourself?” Seungcheol interrupts your thoughts, handing you a mug of hot chocolate as he takes his seat next to you. Always right next to you.

“Just… thinking of something.” You try to dismiss the topic, though Seungcheol narrows his eyes at you and demands you to explain.

“Something else?” Oh, that’s the kind of mood that he’s in. You grin at his antics, letting him continue. “Not me?”

On any other day, you would’ve played along and tried to get a reaction out of him, push his buttons and kiss the pout off his face. But there’s something about today that makes you feel a little cheesy, so you look into his eyes and smile, enjoying the confused look he’s sending you because he’s expecting some witty comebacks that you’d always throw his way.

“Always you.” You whisper like it's a secret as you find yourself drowning in the universe reflected in his eyes, holding his gaze as if it's the first time you've ever looked into them. He’s flustered, of course, having not anticipated you to react this way. “I think I can't go a day without thinking about you, really. Can anyone? I personally think we're all here to revolve around you. When you're not around, I cease to exist and kinda just not do anything until you step into my subspace again.”

“Shut the fuck up.” He groans, his palm covers your face in a desperate attempt not to let you see how flustered he actually is at the turn of your words while you simply laugh through his fingers. “I knew you wouldn't just say shit like that.”

“So rude.” You pout at him, knowing how much it annoys him when you do it at times like this. “Can't believe that's how you speak to your girlfriend.”

“You–”

“And they say you make people's hearts flutter. Do they know you're this combative with someone you love?”

“That's not–”

“I've fallen into your trap, haven't I?” You match his usual dramatics, feeling a little annoying as much as you are all soft inside. “I didn't think–”

“Shut. Up.” He repeats, pulls you into his lap, and strangles you into a cuddle because he couldn't ask you like a normal person.

You settle happily into his neck, leaving a kiss on his jaw before he maneuvers you into a more comfortable position. There's a happy hum flowing throughout your body, as if telling you that it's happy that you're where you are. That this is where you belong.

“I really was thinking about you, though.” You continue your prior topic, your tone more calm and relaxed, much like the rhythm of his heartbeat.

It's funny, really. He used to think being in love means butterflies and fireworks, a series of heartbeats skipping through its tempo, or a constant flutter in his stomach. After finding you, he realizes it's not just about that. It's the way he calms at the touch of your fingers, the way his eyes follow you everywhere you might be, the way his heart fucking melts everytime you gazes into his eyes and breaks into a shy smile.

He doesn't get fireworks in his chest when he kisses you. He gets a constant buzz of electricity throughout his body that keeps him afloat.

He doesn't get butterflies in his tummies when he wakes up next to you in the morning. He gets reassurance that this is what he wants to see every morning of his fucking life.

“Yeah?” He kisses the top of your head, asking you to elaborate. “What about me?”

“Do you think we've met before?”

A laugh slips past his lips before he pulls away and looks at you, searching for your face.

“What do you mean?”

“Like, I don't know. In another lifetime?”

Seungcheol blinks, not expecting the conversation to steer this way.

“I feel like I've always known you.” You continue, seemingly lost in your thoughts. “Like I've always known to love you?”

His breath actually stops at your words, his heart beating so hard it echoes all the way to his ears, and his arms tighten around you like a lifeline.

“I wouldn't say it feels like a deja vu. It just feels like… ah, I'm so bad at this. But it feels like I've always meant to love you?”

It takes a while for Seungcheol to manage the words out of his mouth, overwhelmed by his own feelings and how out of nowhere you spur these on him.

“I'm stealing that for our wedding, just so you know.” He says without thinking, and you two spend exactly seven seconds (he counted) looking into each other in flustered bliss, registering what Seungcheol has just said.

“What?” You almost choke on your word, and it's your turn to have your heart beating throughout your entire body.

“What?” He chooses to play stupid, like he didn't just bring up the W word even though it's been his wildest dream since the moment you let him take you home three years ago that feels like, well, another lifetime.

“I–”

“I feel the same, if you're wondering.” He cuts you off, not ready to actually talk about it even though it's simply obvious–dare he says–you'd marry each other. But he doesn't want to talk about it right now, when he's struggling to think straight because of the fuzzy feelings engulfing his entire being. “Like I've always meant to love you.”

Seungcheol could've sworn there are traces of tears in your eyes that you stubbornly and successfully blink away. But he can't tease you about it when he's currently trying to stop his trembling lips to stop himself from fucking crying.

“Perhaps we did meet before.” He suddenly answers your question that starts the discussion to begin with. “In another lifetimes.”

“Lifetimes? Plural?”

“Can't imagine a life where I don't have you by my side, really.”

“Hmm. And in our next one?”

“I'll probably meet you again.”

“Yeah? And what will you do?”

“Sweep you off your feet again, duh.”

“Arrogant bastard.” You grin, though not so opposed to the idea of meeting and loving him again in every single one of your lifetime. “I don't know. I think I'd want to try dating Wonwoo.”

Seungcheol makes a sound from the back of his throat that immediately throws you into a fit of laughter; and before he can say shit and actually get upset about your little joke, you slot your lips into his and shut him up. He's still putting on an act of being upset, but you don't really care because you just know he'd smile into the kiss in a matter of seconds. And when he does, you can't help but return the gesture before you two end up giggling to yourselves for no reason at all.

It is so easy to love Choi Seungcheol.

[phantom-thieves-official]

can I say something controversial. I think by interpreting the Maruki reality stuff w Akechi as 'Joker's greatest wish was for Akechi to live bc they're in love!' is kind of a poor read of the text. Not because I don't ship them or whatever, my shipping opinions aren't relevant to this post. But because I think it overlooks a big part of Joker's actual character. He wanted Akechi to live because he saw an innocent person taken advantage of and discarded. He saw someone who needed help. You can even go further with this and say, okay, Akechi wasn't an innocent person - he killed people and tried to kill Joker himself. And what does that mean for Joker's character? It means he saw someone who had done terrible things - some of them to Joker, personally - and he still came away from Shido's palace with the understanding that while he did bad things, Akechi was a victim of Shido's, too. Good, or bad, or in between, that he still was someone in need of help. Joker wanted to help Akechi. He wanted to give Akechi a chance to make things right, and to show him that they didn't have to enemies - that Akechi didn't have to fight the Phantom Thieves, and he didn't have to be alone; that it's never too late to change course and be a better person and that Akechi's life didn't have to be one of hatred and isolation. He could atone for his crimes, still take down shido, and have a group of people to support him. After the terrible things Akechi did as Shido's lapdog, after he sold the thieves out and plotted to murder Joker. Joker still just wanted to help him. Joker saw that while Akechi was undoubtedly a criminal he was also a victim, and there was something in there worth trying to save. But you know what? He couldn't do it. Right as he seemed to be getting through to Akechi, he was killed by Shido's cognitive version.

And so when Maruki's reality brings Akechi back, it means imo that Joker feels guilty. Out of all the people he'd been able to help, Akechi was the one person he just couldn't save. It's not because they're in love, it's because Joker regrets how things worked out. He regrets that he didn't get through to Akechi sooner. He regrets failing a vulnerable and victimized person whom he feels he could have helped. Even if that person hated Joker. Even if that person had previously tried to kill Joker with his own hands. Joker's sense of justice is imo his biggest character trait, followed closely by his massive savior complex. Of course he wanted Akechi to live. Because in Joker's eyes, despite what he'd done to hurt Joker, Akechi was still a victim. He was still someone Joker should have been able to save.

This all comes to a head when Joker chooses to deny Maruki's reality. He's choosing to live with the guilt; to accept he can't save everyone no matter how hard he tries. He's moving beyond the savior complex and recognizing that sometimes, some people are really just unreachable, or don't want to be helped. It's a moment not only of characterization, but of character growth for him.

anyway that's my hot take. by viewing the third semester through a shipping lens exclusively you lose a huge point of characterization for Joker bc you overlook the nuances of Joker's desire to help everyone all the time and the guilt he feels about failing to help Akechi. You misconstrue Joker's desire to help in the first place as coming from a place of love rather than a place of selflessness and justice; a place of 'doing what's right simply because it is the right thing to do.' You miss out on the subtle ways it shows Joker's not biased by hatred or contempt, how despite the heinous things Akechi has done, and despite the harm done to him directly at Akechi's hand, Joker is still capable of seeing that Akechi is a victim, too - which in itself shows that Joker's idea of justice isn't motivated by personal relationships, grudges, or biases.

[gorgeys]

hi! big fan of ur maeve works omgg.. wld u consider writing a piece where maeve takes homelander’s wife? i can so see him bringing in his wife, supe or not, to fancy events as a trophy wife. maybe maeve steals her away at some point & realizes she’s 1) a lot smarter & capable than homelander plays her off as and 2) just as eager to get her hands on maeve as maeve is to have her.

just think of the messiest trio shit you’ve ever witnessed. homelander probably knows, too. I don’t even think he’d be mad. two of the hottest women in the world are linking.. he’d prob ask to watch <\3 but erm yeah also don’t feel like u have to write major homelander bits like this is maeve content I just think it’s funny he’s like “damn…. can I join u lovely ladies 🥺” - 🐠

queen maeve x homelander's wife!reader

I LOVE THIS IDEA! THANK U SM FOR THIS REQ!!

this is also over 3k words so brace yourself

warnings: smut - oral, fingering, strap-on, homelander being a dick

the seven is dumbfounded that anyone's agreed to marry homelander, let alone stay married to him, especially maeve who knows first hand how difficult he is.  and they're absolutely astounded that he's landed a baddie like you, but there you are, his hot trophy wife, hanging off his arm at every vought function.

every person in america knows homelander and yours' love story (thanks to vought's relentless marketing team): homelander saved you from a bombing and as soon as he landed safely on the ground with you in his arms, it was love at first sight and the rest was history and blah blah blah.

the part maeve can't believe is that you--gorgeous, angelic you--would ever fall for that monster.

you were called a trophy wife for a reason; just looking at you would make most men cream their pants, maeve included.  when you spoke, she just stared at your lips.  when you walked away, her eyes shamelessly followed you.  when you looked at homelander with all that adoration behind your eyes, she wished she had the power to pop his head like neuman.  but of course, you were a distant, unattainable fantasy.

homelander had you on a tight leash, always keeping a hand on you at all times and jokingly threatening the life of any executive that even looked at you with a sign of lust.  of course, he wasn't joking.  he had killed men for simply touching your shoulder.

he also did the usual homelander things: talking over you, sometimes groping you in public, and constantly repeating the story of how the two of you met to anyone who would listen, especially stressing the part where you were a damsel in distress whose life he graciously saved.

because of homelander, maeve decided to admire you from afar.  that was until one fateful night.

she was smoking alone in the bathroom after escaping another routine vought event where she was forced to keep up appearances.  she had intentionally gone up to the 99th floor, knowing the bathroom would be empty since the event was taking place on a lower floor.  that's why she was surprised when she heard another set of heels on the tiles behind her.

"can i get a drag?" you ask as she turns to face you.  you're already smiling at her, but not that big, toothy smile you give to all the businessmen.  it's a natural one.

she extends her arm to offer you the cigarette, so you walk up to her and accept it.  she watches as you bring it to your red lips with ease that only a routine smoker could possess.

"i didn't know you smoked," she says, crossing her arms over her chest.  it seems oddly out of character for homelander's perfect housewife.

"i shouldn't.  and i didn't used to," you say, the smoke leaving your lips in a short puff.  "not before i met homelander.  i mean, i of all people should know how bad it is," you say, handing back the cigarette and turning toward the mirror to inspect your appearance.

"what's that supposed to mean?" she asks, her eyes never leaving your face.

"oh, i was a doctor.  you know, before all this," you say nonchalantly, fixing your hair. maeve's eyes widen in surprise.

"wait, really?"

"yup," you say, as if you expected her surprise.  it makes sense since most people assume homelander's wife is just a pretty face, not someone who once possessed one of the most difficult and esteemed careers.  "four years of undergrad, four years of med school, four years of residency, only to practice for one year.  what a fucking waste."

well that's why homelander never let you speak—he didn't want everyone to realize you were smarter than him.

"fuck," she says, still a little shocked as she diverts her gaze to look at you through the mirror. "what kind of doctor?"

"ER.  shit was crazy but i loved it.  and i was good at it.  i was always good with the people," you say with a sad smile.

looking back, it makes sense to maeve.  you knew how to talk to, but more importantly, listen to, any person that approached you and homelander.  you were extremely emotionally intelligent.  and obviously book smart as well, considering your profession.  you really were everything homelander wasn't.

 "because i really cared, y'know?  i really wanted to make a difference," you say with the shake of your head.  that thought seemed so trivial now.

"it's like looking in a mirror," maeve says, literally looking into the mirror at your reflection.  she had never realized how similar the two of you were.

"but then he saved me and suddenly it was all gone."

"they made you stop when you got married?"

"well, he made me stop," you say.  she can see the hurt in your eyes.  "because you can't be a doctor and homelander's wife.  no, that wouldn't be fair to him," you say, a hint of contempt evident in your usually sweet tone.

"asshole," maeve says, the hate far more obvious in her voice.  "i never understood why you were with him.  i don't think any of us did.  and now i'm just more confused."

"well, i could say the same about you," you say, suddenly turning your head to look right at her.  "why were you ever with him?"

"because i polled higher when we were together," she answers honestly, getting an endearing smile out of you.

"yeah, i assumed," you say.  "although he's still adamant that you were once hopelessly in love with him.  i don't wanna burst his bubble, but i always knew you were too good for him."

"we say the same thing about you," maeve says, the beginnings of a smile on her face.

"don't flatter me," you say, pulling your lip gloss out of your bag.  "i'll get a big head."

"can't be bigger than his," she quips, relishing in the way she makes you grin.

"true." she watches the applicator glide across your plump lips and then watches you shove it back in the tube.  "did i ever tell you you were my favorite?"

"what?"

"in the seven.  you were always my favorite.  i never paid too much attention to you guys but i was always watching when you were on the tv," you say.  "i don't know, maybe it was the armor or something.  or maybe the way you always stood like that with your hands on your hips.  i don't know.  you always did it for me though."

were you saying what she thought you were saying?

"wait," she pauses, turning her body toward you and resting her hip against the counter.  "so you had a crush on me?"

"mmm...something like that," you say with a shrug, though the troublesome smile on your face answers her question.

"wow." she crosses her arms over her chest and smirks at you.  "does homelander know about this?"

"does he need to know about this?" you ask, turning to face her.

"guess not."  there's a beat of silence.  "how long ago was this?  that you were pining over me," she asks as smugly as ever.

"so i don't think there was any pining involved, actually, but i remember the news would always play at the hospital and...well, yeah, there you were, always distracting me from my work."

"and now here you are," she says, gesturing to your figure while her eyes not so subtly checked you out. "distracting me from my work now."

"oh, am i?" you say, feigning innocence as you take a step closer to her.  she was left to wonder, was this your plan all along?

"yeah.  now i'm just thinking about you staring up at the screen," she says, entertaining you.  her fingers graze your chin. "drooling all over your scrubs.  fuck, you'd look so cute in scrubs."  you bite your lip, staring up at her with those devilish eyes.

"if only you were there that day instead of him.  things would be so different."

"do you wish things were different?" she asks, dropping her hand from your face.

"sometimes," you admit.  "little, naive me couldn't see him for what he truly was.  but i think i can see you now," you say, your finger poking the skin of her chest as you move impossibly closer.

"yeah?" she mumbles, her eyes obviously flickering between your eyes and your lips as she leans in toward you.

she can't believe she's really doing this.  she knows it's a stupid move.  homelander's literally downstairs.  but you're magnetic.

you abruptly grab her by the back of the neck with both hands and press her lips onto yours.  her lips move hungrily against yours, sucking and biting your bottom lip so hard that you're moaning into her mouth.  she attaches herself to you, her strong hands grabbing at the back of your dress and pulling your body into her cold armor.

in a second, she's lifting you up and onto the counter.  she knows it won't be long before homelander's looking for you, so she needs to make the most out of your fleeting time together.  you're well aware of this as you hike your dress up your thighs to save her a few seconds.

she kisses you so hard and feverishly that you're dazed and pulling her further into you by the back of her head.  you barely register her hands sliding your now slick panties down your legs.

she pulls away for a moment and stuffs your panties into the breastplate of her suit.  it's annoying how put together she looks, meanwhile you're out of breath with your legs spread embarrassingly wide for her.

she gives you a look, as if to verify that you still want this. your slight nod cues her to duck down and face your bare pussy.  instantly, she's eating you out like a woman starved.  she rapidly tongues your clit, only stopping every once in a while to suck on it harshly.  your quiet whimpers are music to her ears, only motivating her to throw your legs over her shoulders and bury her face deeper into your cunt. but then she starts to push a finger into your wet hole.

fuck, you're tight, she thinks. his dick really must be as small as she remembered.

your noises grow louder, prompting her to lift her face from your pussy and shush you like a child.  with homelander's super hearing, she can't take any chances, especially when his ears are specifically trained to listen for your honey-sweet voice. you accordingly lift your hand from where it was gripping the edge of the counter and firmly clasp it over your lips, muffling your sounds.  just to be safe, you bite down hard on your bottom lip as you lean your head back against the mirror.

maeve leaves a few kisses on your inner thigh as you get used to the intrusion of her long fingers before her lips enclose your clit once more.  soon your thighs are spasming around her head and you're crying into your hand as you cum with two of her fingers pumping inside of you and her tongue running circles on your clit.

she should stop your quickie there.  she should let you run back to the party and into homelander's arms.  but if this was the last time she was gonna fuck you, she was going to make the most of it.

"we got time for another, right?" she asks, though it isn't a question as she adds another finger to your throbbing hole and you release a choked up whine.

maeve really did think that would be the last of it.  this was a dangerous game after all, why would you run the risk of playing it twice?

but suddenly you're prancing around the tower more often, whether it's to hand deliver homelander his lunch or attend a fitting for your next red carpet appearance.  whatever the cause is, you always bump into maeve, and before you know it, she's guiding you by the waist into to her room to fuck you better than your husband ever could.

"he can't make you cum, can he?" she whispers into your ear, fucking you dumb in missionary.  all you can do is shake your head with your eyes squeezed shut, her panties stuffed in your mouth as a gag.  "yeah, that's why you keep running back to me, begging me to make you feel good.  he can't fuck you like i can."

it carries on like that for a while, you sneaking in and out of maeve's room a few times a week.  homelander's oblivious at first, mainly because he ignores your existence most days. but you make a deadly mistake when he rolls over one night, groping your tits in an effort to coerce you into fucking him, and you immediately push him off of you without thinking.  that really shocks him, so much so that he just lies there motionless, staring at the ceiling as you drift off.

you never deny him of sex.  even when you're not in the mood, you usually just let him use your body or at least rub one out for him.  so he really knows something's up when you push him away not just once, but multiple nights, claiming that you're "too tired."

"too tired?" he asks one night, outraged.  "you don't fucking do anything!  i'm out there saving lives so you can buy all your designer clothes and shoes and jewelry and you can't even fucking thank me by taking my dick down your throat?  i fucking made you!"  you simply roll your eyes and reach under the covers to grab his cock through his sweatpants. your annoyance makes you grip him hard, just how he likes it.

one odd time, after maeve's just finished fucking the life out of you, you open the door to leave her room, your hair still a little disheveled and your panties missing, only to see homelander leaning against the wall, waiting patiently for you.

"well, she really did a number on you, didn't she?" he asks with an amused smile.  you're stood in the doorway frozen and speechless.  he looks over your shoulder and makes eye contact with a tense maeve who's standing a few paces behind you.

deep down, you knew you'd get caught eventually.  that didn't mean you were prepared for it.  "john," you say in an overly soothing tone, reaching out for him as if you're about to start talking him down from one of his tantrums.  would this be his breaking point?

"that's why you won't let me touch you, huh?  getting fucked too good by queen maeve over here," he says, that terrifying smile never leaving his face.

"i mean, maeve," he says, slow clapping while making direct eye contact with her.  he knows she's pissed from the way her jaw locks and her teeth grind together.  "just wow.  i didn't know she could cum that many times in a row without passing out.  you know, you're going to have to teach me that little trick you do with your tongue," he says, pointing at her as if she's just said something witty.  "it just drives her crazy.  i mean, i could hear her all the way from the first floor. maybe we can...practice on her together next time?" he says as if you're not standing right in front of him.  he doesn't miss the way maeve's upper lip twitches in disgust.  "what?  i can't let my two favorite girls have fun without me," he says, suddenly looking back down at you and petting your cheek with his hand.

maeve wants to say something, anything to put him in his place, but she can't find the words.  you're his wife after all, not hers.  she doesn't lay any claim to you.  but, for some reason, she feels like she should.  especially when you belong to someone so disgusting and vile.

things get a little weird once homelander knows.  you can tell it irks maeve.  the thought of him touching you or even watching her touch you makes her skin crawl.  she tries to stay away from you for a little while, but it doesn't last long.  whenever she sees you around the tower, she can't help but remember how pretty you looked spread out on her bed, showing off your glistening pussy.

plus it's a bit of a power trip, knowing that she held this one little thing over homelander's head, that little thing being you.  so at some point, her desire for you trumps all else.

you're on your knees on the floor, your chin resting on the edge of the bed as you push your face further into maeve's cunt.  you can only moan into her, letting your tears mix with her juices as you're being overstimulated by the vibrator that's buried deep inside your pussy.  "god, you're useless," she says, grabbing the back of your head and grinding herself on your face.  she moans as your nose rubs against her clit and your cries cause vibrations to course through her.

"just want you to come all over my face," you whine, maeve looking down to see your lips and chin coated in her slick.  she cums almost immediately, deliciously arching into you with a deep groan.

the mixture of yours and maeve's noises makes homelander cum in his own room with his dick in his hand, so horny from watching and hearing the two of you go at for so long through the walls.

he only settles for watching because you and maeve refuse to let him in on the fun.  and he would try to force himself in between you two, but he knows maeve would hit him so hard she'd knock him into next week.  so he's content on just observing for now.

that is until he notices something.  once the two of you have finished, you're no longer leaving her room, with your heels in your hands, to return to his room.  instead, you're lying on your side, your hand dancing up and down maeve's bare arm, with your body tangled in her silky bed sheets.  you whisper to each other, noses practically touching, about nothing important in particular.

homelander watches you smile at something she's said and he recognizes it.  it's one reminiscent of the smile you had when he held you in his arms for the very first time, landing you safely on the ground so far from the hospital that you couldn't think about the smoke that swallowed the sky and the wreckage littered with bodies.  he remembers how in love with you he felt in that moment, the first moment he truly looked at you and knew he must have you.  your smile is aged and a little sad now, but he can't imagine that it doesn't reflect the same love and adoration it did all those years ago.  and he can't imagine that maeve feels any different than he did at the time.

he sits stoically on the edge of his bed after pulling his sweatpants back up, clenching his fists.  he can't let you fall for each other.  he may have let maeve have your body, but you are still completely his.  and now he must prove it.

this is so juicy i might have to write a part 2...

[deadpresidents]

I just hope these next 4 years go by fast

This election isn't just about the next four years. With Trump in the White House and a Republican Senate at his side, the MAGA movement can pick up where they left off when it comes to packing the federal judiciary with right-wing judges who will control the Supreme Court and appellate courts throughout the country potentially for the rest of the lives of everyone reading this right now. It's the perfect recipe for them to continue stripping reproductive rights away from women nationwide and gives them the opportunity to turn their attention to the other issues that they have been dying to attack, from voting rights to gay marriage and every other extension of personal freedom that has been won by minorities and marginalized people in hard-fought battles over the past 60 years. This is the nightmare scenario that people have been warning folks about for the past few elections. It's here. And there isn't going to be a way to put the toothpaste back in the tube.

The consequences of this election will have a direct, negative impact on your life -- possibly on the entire remainder of your life. This country just re-elected a President with authoritarian tendencies who is the willing puppet of a dangerous Christian nationalist movement that figured out exactly how to manipulate him (through flattery) for their aims. They have created the perfect vehicle for a genuine cult of personality that they can use to achieve the goals they have been very clear about striving for over the past few years. And you can't blame anybody other than the American voters because they not only elected Trump, but they gave him a fucking mandate, with a Republican Senate and potentially a Republican House. They already have a right-wing dominated Supreme Court for the next few decades, and now they are going to ensure that the entire federal judiciary is in their control for years to come. And don't forget the fact that a few months ago, the Supreme Court handed down a decision that gave Presidents sweeping immunity for a broad (and conveniently undefined) range of "official" acts, so Trump is going to go into this second term knowing that not only does he not have to deal with the "guardrails" of responsible adults he had around him in his first term (Mattis, Tillerson, Kelly, General Milley, etc), but he knows he can get away with virtually anything and everything that he wants to do this time around. If you thought that Trump's first term was bad, just understand that they are prepared this time and now he's surrounded himself with people who will do his bidding -- people who are perfectly willing to let Trump be Donald Trump.

I wish there was a reason to cry foul, lodge protests, and challenge the election's results. But this wasn't a rigged election. There isn't any confusion about what the voters really wanted. The American people did this. People you know and care about and who say they care about you are the people who did this. We need to recognize that these elections aren't outliers anymore. Trump's supporters aren't simply chaos agents who got lucky on a bad day for the Democrats. That's the country we live in now and we have to find a way to resist it that actually makes a difference because now they have the keys to all the doors and all of the alarm codes. This country has normalized the conspiracy theories and nativism and racism that has powered the MAGA movement since the moment Trump came down the elevator at Trump Tower in 2015. He's given those people permission to be open with their hatred towards people who aren't like them, and it's actually become surprising to see how many Americans have been eager to take advantage of that. I didn't think I had any misconceptions about this country before Donald Trump because I recognized this nation's history, but I clearly had some misconceptions about people I thought I knew until I saw them wearing a red MAGA hat or noticed they had a gigantic flag with Trump's name hanging where their U.S. flag used to hang. Once that happened, it was like a switch went off with them and they started saying things in ways that I'd never heard them speak. I feel like that's happened to the entire country. It breaks my heart and it pisses me off.

For the past few years, I've been warning everybody about how elections have consequences. I imagine that there are hundreds of posts on this blog with that phrase in all caps listed with the tags. Now the elections have happened, and we have to live with real fucking consequences. And we're going to pass these consequences on to other generations because this is the one that you can't get a do-over on. When you give a movement like this the power and the mandate that this country just gave them, there is no easily rolling back the things that they end up doing. They are going to fundamentally change the lives of people in this nation and especially change the way the younger generations of Americans live and love and learn for years to come. And you have people in your life who made that happen. It's another disgusting day in America -- a prelude to another reprehensible four years (at the very least) -- and I'm ashamed of tens of millions of my fellow Americans because this one is on them. They know exactly who the man is that they voted for, and now we know exactly who they are, too.

[ninjakk]

Maybe it is because i've read one too many frustrated metas about the matter, but during this reread I find myself wondering where the hell are people picking up that WWX has a low image of himself/is self-deprecating. He is very bitter about his infamy and how he has been made into the source of all evil, and about his failure to achieve his goals and the way people dear to him got entangled in it all. That much is true. But… when LWJ tells him about what happened to Chang Ping, his reaction boils down to "If I were Chang Ping I wouldn't have balked at the Jin's demands. I would have hunted Xue Yang myself even if I knew that it would most likely get me killed too." And we know for a fact that's exactly the choice he made when he saved the Wen Remnants because he tells us himself during (going by EXR) chapter 8, when the narration mentions he fully understood what he was getting into back then and explains how he used Yumeng Jiang's motto to keep himself afloat through the whole ordeal. This is WWX telling us that he would make the same choice again and again! He wasn't made of stone, he did suffer through it, but he doesn't regret it all or sees himself as lesser for making the choices he did. He knew he was attempting the impossible. At the start of the novel, he's struggling with living again in a body that he doesn't yet consider his own, yes, but it would be much weirder if he didn't need some time to make peace with that.

Hi there Anon 👋🏻

Urgh, yes... Fanon!WWX with his insecurities and apparent low self-esteem… Who doesn't like to burden people with his troubles and thinks he doesn't deserve to be loved or receive help from anyone. Literally the EXACT opposite of the canon WWX we know and love 😅

I can't help but wonder if this pervasive misinterpretation stems from other adaptations. Perhaps some viewers who started with the CQL or the donghua before diving into the novel might be projecting a skewed impression onto canon!WWX, misinterpreting his actions through that lens. Of course, I know a lot of people who have come from the CQL and have an excellent understanding of the novel and its differences. It's as though some enjoyed the wacky, chaotic, suicidal dummy of the CQL so much and simply see what they want to when reading the novel instead 😅 I usually find the ones who claim he's the above are usually the same people who think WWX is "stupid," despite him being an undeniable prodigy!

Or, perhaps it really is just a genuine misinterpretation of his actions. Yes, at the beginning of the novel, WWX sometimes leans into the whole "I'm so bad and evil" persona he's been given, but that's his sense of humor shining through! He's not genuinely self-loathing; he's mocking those absurd assumptions about him. It's his personal joke, a very "WWX" way of laughing at the absurdity of it all rather than dwelling on the unfairness.

By the time he's reincarnated, I'd argue he's much less "bitter" and more at peace with his past. He's learned from it, which is why he no longer seeks revenge. We see him save everyone during the second siege, despite many of them having been present at the first siege that brought about his demise and still wish him dead a second time around! While he certainly experienced some bitterness in his first life, contributing to his mental breakdown and subsequent demise, his return in MXY's body shows a character who has processed much of that.

Sometimes, I really do wonder if people simply cannot grasp WHY WWX does what he does. This is of course the majority, but I know from first-hand experience while debating over this very mischaracterisation with some in the fandom that this really does seem to be the case... These people have outright declared they would not have done what WWX did, they would not have saved the Wen remnants or tried to help anyone else in need. And while some people might not act similarly, whether from fear or lack of confidence, it's unfair to trivialise WWX's just and heroic actions merely to excuse their own shortcomings.

It's like they can't understand why he'd jump in to help people or do what's right despite the inevitable backlash. So, instead of trying to fathom such selflessness, they justify their own lack of understanding by claiming he has "self-esteem issues." They'd rather assign him that flaw than acknowledge their own differing morals.

It's almost like people would rather say he doesn't value his own life (when we canonically SEE he does, when he declares he's about to drop Su She if no one will help him...) or feel he deserves love/affection/help (despite us seeing him readily jump at the chance of these things, if offered) than feel bad about their own lack of morals or admit their favourite side character just never offered him any help in the first place!

It's actually rather hilarious because WWX isn't the only person to jump in and save someone either... LWJ and JZX both did this (LWJ more than once) and no one ever claims they have low self-worth 🙄 And at least WWX usually has a plan whenever he does so... LWJ and JZX protected Mianmian without any means to defend themselves. They were only saved because WWX devised a plan in a dire moment.

The beauty of WWX's character is he doesn't dwell on things. He has the ability to focus on the little joys in life and adopt a positive outlook. So although he is obviously affected by all the tragedy and hardship around him, he quickly picks himself up and bounces back. Even finding himself in a strange, new body that isn't his own… he has a little moment when he sees the unfamiliar reflection looking back at him and thinks of the past and then pulls himself together. WWX doesn't spend too much time overthinking such negative things. He acknowledges it and moves on.

I do feel this is often misinterpreted as him being flippant and not caring about the suffering and unfairness he's faced - which is of course not the case. I guess it could be considered a coping mechanism… and it probably is to a certain extent. That, mixed with a personal philosophy influenced by his parents, cultural beliefs and teachings. Regardless, I don't think it's an unhealthy approach, nor does it stem from a "lack of self-worth”.

I think the "self-deprecating" label often comes from misinterpreting his sense of humour. He pokes fun at himself, his circumstances, or his infamy, but it's always in good-natured jest. Given his confident personality and positive attitude, this should be more than apparent. But if you've already misjudged him as someone with low self-worth, then his little jokes can indeed take on a much darker tone.

As you rightly say, WWX doesn't regret his actions—and he has no reason to! Even when he thought his efforts were for nothing and every single Wen remnant had been unjustly murdered, he still believed he did the right thing and would do so again… because he possesses an unwavering, strong sense of right and wrong. This makes the revelation that Wen Yuan survived all the more poignant. It made no difference to his belief that it was the right thing to do... But it offered a tangible, living testament to the goodness he fought for.

As you touched on yourself - WWX embodies the Jiang Clan motto through his unwavering commitment to doing what is right, even when the odds are stacked impossibly against him and the entire world has seemingly turned its back on him. He consistently "attempts the impossible" (or a more literal meaning of the motto courtesy of doufudanshi "do what you know you cannot") by literally doing what he knows he cannot... striving to uphold true justice and compassion in a world that often lacks both.

It really is a shame people can't just appreciate canon!WWX for what he truly is—a character who is steadfast, morally absolute, and stands by his principles, regardless of how difficult that path might be to follow ❤️

[wolfiesmoon]

A well-kept secret...

Alhaitham x gn!reader

the triumphant writing return of your favourite incompetent idiot🥰

as always i apologise if i get anything wrong lore-wise i'm not in sumeru yet on my acc and i don't want to spoil the story for myself so i'm going of pure vibes

"huh i could have sworn you wrote something like this before..." no i didn't here's 5000 bucks now shut up ...anyways, after getting re-obsessed w genshin i have decided to cook smth up for my alhaitham kissers😏😏😏😏 that and i've decided to watch a 20 h playthrough of the entirety of HSR bc neither my phone nor my laptop can handle that game and i want to see what comes after Jarilo (and i wanna write fics too come on)

ALSO HOW COULD I FORGET I FINALLY GOT NEUVILLETTE 🥰🤭😘😱😍🙏🏻💁‍♀️😍😘🤩🙂‍↕️😻😽😸🫦 HUBBYS HOME FR FR

The thing you could have never expected upon getting a job at the renowned Akademiya of Sumeru is that you would fall for the Akademiya's elusive scribe, Alhaitham.

It bothers you to no end that it just has to be him of all the people in Teyvat, since you know he'd never return your affections, even in a million years. He just isn't a man who places importance in romance, you've learned.

And even so, he doesn't seem to like you much in general. It's not that you're a bad person, not at all, you just kind of feel like he's slightly annoyed by your presence. You always catch the silent sigh that escapes his lips when you happen to have to deliver something to him and his replies are even more curt than usual when talking to you.

So you just watch him from afar, stealing occasional glances at him while he's face deep in a book or taking a leasurely nap by the window. It sort of makes you sad, as beautiful as the sight is.

You'd love to tell him how you love the way his fingers slide over the book spines as he's searching for just the right book to examine, or the way his eyebrows furrow in concentration as he's reading, or the way his chest slowly rises and falls when he's napping next to- Oh, now you're just making yourself even more miserable.

And though you already know what he'd say if you revealed your feelings towards him, you can't help but want to confess them all anyways.

You turn the corner, important scrolls that you're supposed to give to him in hand. You find Alhaitham slumped over his desk, seemingly asleep. It's a secluded, quiet corner of the Akademiya that you know he likes to take naps in, so it's not a surprising sight. In fact it's a very welcome one. Atleast for you.

You think about waking him up for a brief moment, but then decide that you'd rather not face his annoyed glare today. So you simply place the scrolls on the desk in front of him, hoping he'll notice them once he wakes up.

As you turn to leave, you suddenly get an idea. There might just be a way you can release your pent-up feelings for him without him ever knowing.

He's asleep right now, so there's no harm in a tiny little confession, right? It's not like he'll hear it anyways.

But then again, that's such a pathetic way of confessing that it actually hurts. What are you, a lovestruck teenager?

After a few seconds of your ego having an internal battle with your lovesick heart, the heart comes out the victor. You take a deep breath, deciding to make it quick because he may wake up any second.

"I'm in love with you and I wish you were mine." you blurt out somewhat awkwardly before turning on your heels and getting the hell out of there.

In fact, you left so fast that you failed to notice the way Alhaitham's cheeks dusted a light shade of pink and his eyes slowly opened, staring at the wall on his right.

"Mmmm..." he groaned, shoving his head into the crevice of his elbow that was laid out on the table.

.

Although you know that he never heard your confession, you still feel too giddy to approach him at all the next day. You've really just gone and did that, and looking at his face would be an all too vivid reminder of it.

"Here's the document the scribe requested this morning. He said you must deliver it to him." your coworker handed you a neat folder, tied with a colorful string.

Knowing there's no way you'd be able to face Alhaitham so soon, you asked your friend to do it for you, knowing she'd happily take a break from reviewing documents to deliver one instead.

And so your day continued on without a hitch and you slowly started to forget all about yesterday as you became engrossed in your work. Maybe it's better that way, after all.

As the day came to a close, you took one last overview of the work you've done just to make sure that everything has been translated properly before storing the documents away and turning around to head towards the exit.

However, you were jumpscared by someone standing right in front of you with his arms crossed. Your eyes met a pair of turquoise ones and you let out a stranged noise of surprise. It's Alhaitham in all his glory.

"Oh, it's you. Well, goodbye, I'll see you tommorow." you smiled at him as wide you possibly could, laughing awkwardly and walking around him, too flustered to wait for a reply from him.

"You didn't bring me the document." his voice stopped you in your tracks and you turned your head back to look at him. Have you forgotten something, after all? What document could he be- Oh, he means the one delivered by your friend.

"Oh, I got busy, so I asked my friend." you shrugged, wondering internally why he's even confronting you about this.

"It was an opportune... Hm. What's done is done." he makes a small pause before fully turning around to face you. "I heard your confession yesterday."

No. No way.

Okay, that's it. You're actually going to die now. And the blunt way he said it makes it so much worse. You knew you should have done it when he was wearing those soundproof earpieces of his. You cursed yourself out internally for not noticing that he wasn't wearing them back then.

"Heard what?" you decided to act dumb, though you're sure you sound anything but convincing right now.

"You said you're in love with me." his eyes narrowed slightly, but otherwise, his body language was the same as always. So that means you can't gauge his thoughts on the confession at all in order to act accordingly.

"What in the world are you talking about?" you kept up your act of innocence. You'd rather die than admit you actually said that to his face, while you thought he was asleep, no less.

"Hm. I never took you for a such cowardly person." He sighed, then continued. "You could blame it on the lack of interaction between us."

The sudden comment about your cowardice to admit to something you did was like a stab to the belly, but you quickly recovered, trying your best to not look offended. You thought he was the type of guy to avoid conversations about embarrasing things he overheard, or, well "unnecessary" things, as he would put it. He's never even initiated a conversation with you before, dammit.

"Ugh... so, are you mad about it?" you finally gave up on acting coy. Though you're sure you can answer your own question right now.

"What an... interesting hypothesis." Alhaitham closed his eyes, turning around. "Next time, make sure to do what I ask of you. It's simply for my own convenience." Then he just up and left, leaving you standing there like an idiot.

Really? That wasn't a proper answer at all. You would have thought he'd simply reject you if he really wanted things to be as convenient for him as possible. Giving you vague answers makes this convenient for neither of you.

But, then again... he didn't reject you right off the bat. That's something, right?

As much as Alhaitham called you out on your cowardice earlier, he found himself thinking that he's no better as he dropped onto his bed that night. How in the world is he supposed to admit to you that he wants you to deliver the documents that he needs because he enjoys looking at your face? How is he supposed to admit that he catches occasional glances of you too, sometimes? How is he supposed to admit to you that your mere presence clogs up the words in his throat, making him unable to speak as eloquently as he wants?

How is he supposed to admit to you that your little confession yesterday just ruined his ability to think rationally, that you made him broken beyond repair?

"Ugh, how bothersome..." he pinches the bridge of his nose. He hates how irrational love is.

[manikas-whims]

hi lovely, first of all i wanna wish u a good day and i hope everything is going good!

i was cooking in the background but got to a block here, and i would like to know ur opinion on this:

lets say sylus (pre - relationship) somehow messes up bad with reader, to the point they distance themselves from onychinus. how do you think he would react and make up? I feel like he would observe from afar and then go ahead try to talk to them, but i have no clue what he would say, whats ur perspective?

tysm for ur work and im so proud to see u grow as a writer ❤️ byebye lovely!

Hiii! I've been wanting to respond to this for so long.. I'm just so tired by the time I'm home these days 😭

And I'm glad you think I've grown a little as a writer 🥺 means so much to me ♡ so sorry it took so long..🙏

As for the ask itself..

If Pre-relationship Sylus messes up,

then you'll definitely distance yourself from him and Onychinus itself because you still don't know him that well. He did abduct you from the auction and held you in captivity in his base. So of course it's quite difficult for you to give him the benefit of the doubt.

And Sylus seems to be the kind of person who doesn't easily takes offense to people judging him based on his line of work. But he'll definitely get mad because you aren't just some random person to him. He'll be disappointed because all it took was one mistake for you to judge him so harshly? Instead of treating him like every other person and giving him a chance?! He'd think you're just like the rest of the people who form an assumption of him based on his appearance itself. To think, he even bothered making an effort..

Thus, there's no communication between the two of you for at least 2–3 days..Not even Mephisto cawing and poking his cute, lil mechanical beak at your window 😞

And this leads to you getting even more angry at Sylus cause LOOK AT THE AUDACITY OF THIS MAN!!! He made a mistake and now doesn't even bother explaining himself!? Doesn't even try to fix this mess!? Yeah..you should've known..he truly is like every other person from N109. It's your fault for being foolish enough to believe he might have any humanity behind those glowing crimson eyes.

But after the passage of those 2–3 days, you finally begin to sort through your thoughts and feelings.

You also start seeing some familiar faces around your apartment. Luke and Keiran do drop a bunch of packages full of clothes, accessories and other luxurious items you could barely afford on your Hunter's paycheck. Nevertheless you reject them all, and even yell at them. “Tell your stupid Boss he can't simply buy my forgiveness!”

There are moments when you just consider forgetting everything and make up but you resist the urge because that would only encourage him. He'll think he can get away with anything if you're so lenient. And so you suffer his absence for the entire week, slowly coming to believe that you weren't important to him at all..

But Sylus is a mature guy despite whatever his reputation suggests. He'll be mad for a while and put off but he'll come to terms with the fact that he made a mistake. And now after giving you ample amount of time and space to sort through your own feelings, he'll finally decide to randomly show up one day at your door, completely shocking you when you answer the door.

Before you can yell at him or push him to leave, he mumbles in a gruff tone. “I’m sorry.”

To say that you are shocked would be an understatement for it's not everyday that the dreaded leader of Onichynus utters an apology to someone. Men like him are used to making people bend their knees and grovel. Used to exacting apologies out of others instead.

You blink several times before asking. “What did you just say? I didn't quite catch it.”

His brow narrows and he scrunches his nose in that way he does whenever met with an obstacle. Sighing, he repeats his words. “I said I'm sorry..for what I did. For giving you a wrong impression and ticking off all the boxes of suspicions in your head. For showing you something that I'm not.” He pockets his hands– a sure sign of awkwardness– and cocks his head to the side. “And I vow to make it up to you.”

Out of nowhere, Mephisto comes flying, perches upon his shoulder and croaks loudly in support of his master.

You try your best to hide the smile threatening to burst upon your face. You'd forgiven him on his first apology itself because one glance at him made you realize how much you'd actually been missing him and his stupidly handsome face.

Still, in an effort to tease him a little, you tilt your head and say. “Hmm..I'll consider forgiving you if you repeat your words once more. On your knees.”

There is a brief pause in which you almost believe he will do it. His expression seems as if he is actually considering it. Then, he scoffs at you and flicks your forehead.

“Don't push your luck, sweetie.”

And you laugh in delight, punching his abdomen lightly. “Fine fine, let's start again.”

You smile and offer him a hand. He looks at it, his crimson eyes roving up to gaze at you, then he accepts your hand, and shakes it. “As you say, sweetie.”

hope you liked this lil piece ♡

» MASTERLIST «

[terrence-silver]

Now the series is over, I just want to say that it's really cool how Terry having an unseen Beloved in Cobra Kai completely fits the narrative. Fine, it's slightly creepy that he also keeps Cheyenne around but goodness, Terry Does That. He does invent complete personas - like his poorsona and Malibu Terry - and he's been know to lie through his teeth, so whatever he claims on screen can't negate Beloved's existence. You know I like to play around with a specific fanon pairing most of the time but Terry does have a 30+ year gap in his relationship history in canon where a hidden Beloved could be and it would explain so much. So, so much!

Mission Cheyenne.

Terry Silver x Reader.

---

(something to commemorate the end of this show with; one for the road!)

---

-"So, you wish me to —"-

-"I want you to be her smoke and mirrors."- 

Terry interjects, finishing her sentence for her, doing a sharp turn on his heel to face the woman sitting a divan with a colossal quadruple window facing the ocean, one elbow thrown over the edge of the Pierre Chareau velvet sofa; the low glass table in front of her empty; she didn't drink while negotiating business. Didn't drink depending of her client's preferences either. If they wanted the role of a person of leisure and libertine attitudes, she'd drink, for the sake of the ruse, whatever they asked of her to drink. If their preferences demanded someone who was anti-alcohol and as clean as a whistle, she'd go as far as tentatively sip on a carrot juice and give an Oscar worthy performance pretending she loved it too. She was a professional. With exactly thirty years of experience under her belt. Precisely why he chose her. Furthermore, why he choose this manor, overlooking the coastline too; they went together well, like two specifically commissioned accessories --- a matching purse with matching shoes and the older a man got, the more careful, vigilant and meticulous he needed to be of any and all details. Make sure he wasn't slipping in his golden years. That the sharks wouldn't smell any blood or weakness he might accidentally excrete if he lets guard down for all but a moment, thinking the waters are safe to swim in now --- that he's made sure all the apex predators have gone extinct and that he's the only one left.

Because of that, if anything, an old man needed to be more calculating than ever.

Wouldn't be the first time he'd be doing something like this either.

-"To be her subterfuge. To keep all eyes away from her. That's what I want, yeah."- 

Terry adds simply, because it was a simple matter in its essence.

Yet simultaneously, infinitely complicated.

-"Show up in the newspapers with me. Be photographed here and there and everywhere when it’s opportune. Keep the spotlight tactically on yourself. Things of that nature. Purely business."-

He explains and truth of the matter was that he knew many people wouldn't understand --- people needed to have lived his life for as long as he lived to begin to comprehend the doubled edged sword wealth, power and even fame tended to walk hand in hand with; he never wanted you dragged around in the media. People commenting on what you wore. How you looked like. Where you were from. If your nose was too big, too small, if some feature of yours needed surgical corrections, if you made a gaffe everyone was likely to mock for ages or simply do as much as look at you with ill will. Some people would call it madness. Obsession. Hell, maybe it was. Maybe it was love. After all, it could've been both and maybe there wasn't a difference between the two in the first place. Maybe he wanted to spare you. Needed to spare you, because he knew himself. He knew that if someone badmouthed you, shat all over your good name, tried to use you against him, pierced you with the slightest bit of attention that could make his skin crawl he'd burn the world down and everyone in it, so for his sake, as well as your own; for the sake of self-control, this was prudent. Was that so bad? Sparing someone you cared about? Throwing someone else in the line of fire? Someone willing? Someone who did this for a living? Not unlike a stunt double doing dangerous choreography and performances as to prevent the main star from getting hurt; Hollywood was right in his immediate neighborhood after all. Everything had a price and nothing was for free; if he could buy you the ultimate luxury of privacy away from prying eyes, he would.

The public would think one thing because that's what he'd want them to.

Allow them to.

The truth would be what Terry Silver makes it out to be.

Cheyenne Hamid nods, cross-legged and leisurely, albeit clearly amused.

A professional companion and occasional bodyguard posing as a common escort for several high profile celebrities. Men of wealth, politicians in the making, magnates. Anyone and everyone who needed to keep their private lives under wraps. Former Mossad turned for-hire actress; maintaining Apps, Blogs and the occasional shot at Socially-Environmental efforts as an acceptable facade for her other, more polarizing, dealings. She had all the credentials he was looking for and was global enough to win him some brownie points by proxy, and if anything, he needed the re-brand to someone more digestible by the 21st century's standards. Hilariously enough, she was even adept at martial arts if need be, to some degree.

He smiled a little when he found that one out; the assonance of that particularly apt.

 -"While my professional standpoint demands I don’t ask more questions than necessary if the compensation is right, on a personal level, I need to be curious."-

She clicks her tongue cordially.

-"Just, why?"-

She asks and it wasn't a question easy to answer.

Yet, it was easier than anything in the world.

Because he loved you.

Wanted to keep you safe like he wanted his own lifeline safe.

You were his artery.

Why would he want his artery exposed where someone could hit it?

-"To keep a lady hidden, well, there has to be more to the story than you’re letting on."-

Cheyenne Hamidi raises her eyebrow at him inquisitively as he lowers himself into an armchair opposite of him; the furniture he requested brought only just yesterday and set down exactly as he wanted. The staff would officially start working tomorrow. People who would pose as a posse of Ms. Hamidi's friends? They would come when summoned. Mingle around when he wished. Set out like so many appliances, decorative details and garden chairs. -"It’s not some criminal wrongdoing, is it? You didn’t buy her or something? You’re not on some watchlist, are you?"- She prods, not unkindly, her joke laced with careful scrutiny nonetheless, like she was hellbent to catch a glimpse of the truth through harmless banter, her English accent honeyed and laced with barb --- optionally, she let him know that she could successfully put on any dialect he so pleased, but Terry figured an English-American pairing was very apt for the West Coast elite. Very noncontroversial and conventional. Nothing surprising about that to anyone. So noncontroversial and expected even Taylor Swift sang about how much she loved the English nowadays. Although, it amused Terry just what a convincing French accent his employee could do. Very believable. -"Ms. Hamidi, you ask me that like you’ve never worked for criminals before."- Was his turn to hit back with some barb of his own. He was aware of her CV; read it from cover to cover. Some interesting names in there. Nonetheless, he straightens his shoulders out. No, you weren't a victim of human trafficking. He's married you fair and square and has been engaged to you before heading out to Vietnam. The only person still living today who knew about it was John. -"But, no, I didn’t buy her."- Terry corrects, not liking the playful, insinuating look she was giving him, occasionally being hit by this overwhelming urge for everyone to understand his capacity of devotion and commend him for it. Envy him for it. Revile him for it. -"You’re the pathologically jealous sort then."- She retorts knowingly and well, that bit Terry couldn't deny. So, he doesn't. -"You know, I once worked with a man so jealous that he kept his wife locked in a smart house out in Qatar. In a residence that was exclusively voice activated."- She muses, recollecting, taunting at least a little bit, like someone hellbent on giving him ideas.

Like he hasn't already thought of that.

-"His voice, of course."-

She smiles into her own chin, one hand idly smoothing the velvet of the sofa.

-"No going in, no going out unless he gave the word. Quite literally."-

Unwittingly, Terry imagines a palatial estate somewhere in the desert with nobody around for miles and miles where only you and him could exist in the whole wide world, where everything could be as he visualized it.

-"So, you can begin to imagine a trace of what I feel."-

He responds, finding his own voice peppered with more of a melancholic quality than he intended, reminding himself that even in front of someone working for him, it was infinitely better if he came off like a deluded maniac than someone who loved this much. The waves crash against the beachfront and the white walls separating his private pier from the sprawling, manicured lawn out front and Cheyenne's neck is turned, watching the vista, taking what would be her new abode in the months to come, or however long this lasted. -"Well, you’re not the first Billionaire who keeps his wife, children and grandchildren hidden. It’s more frequent than you can imagine, Terrence."- She shrugs, with a weird aura of understanding; the way she said the words children and grandchildren causing something to ache profoundly inside of him, deep in his gut; some of them were abroad, some of their running the firm, but a man like him? With as many enemies as him? It was infinitely better if people simply didn't know. He was willing to play the role of an abandoned, forsaken old man. Wouldn't be the first role he played either. Was like putting on a new button up shirt. -"Out in the Middle East, anyway. In The Valley, though? You have to be one of a kind out here. I thought you're all Liberals."- She cocks her head to one side once her eyes are piqued in his direction again. Terry chuckles. Yeah, she could be pretty funny too. At least during the duration of this little theatre, he wouldn't be tediously bored. -"Seems like no man truly is. That it's antithetical to their nature."- She sighs and her heavy exhale is a sign of negotiations being concluded, and if they weren't, he was concluding them right now; by Monday, the news title would dawn in every publication that made any sort of difference anywhere and the smaller ones that didn't matter would merely follow suit by osmosis; Exclusive scoop; Terry Silver dates so and so, read more at page so and so. -"We have a deal then."- He doesn't ask. He surmises. -"You call the shots. We have a deal."- Cheyenne raises her hands in defeat, agreeing casually, setting them down to smooth the surface of her floor length, Oscar De La Renta floral maxi dress; he needed something seemingly friendly and approachable on her, but still so ironically infuriating that people would be likely to talk and fume on the choice of attire on someone claiming to be all about being sustainable and green. His goal exactly.

Throw the dogs a bone deliberately.

Watch them go to at each other because of it.

It was propaganda and psychological warfare. Not unlike the shit they did in 'Nam.

-"Any details you’d like to work out? A role you want me to play? Specifications of any kind I should know about?"- 

She inquires as a way of finalizing things; his addendum is immediate.

-"Be obnoxious as possible."- 

-"Pardon me?"-

For once, her self confidence has evaporated and her mouth falls agape.

Terry stands up from his seat, slowly buttoning up his blazer, infinitely pleased.

She asked him, didn't she? Well, he was telling her.

-"I want you to be an irritating, salad-chewing, arrogant, holier-than-thou champagne hippie so people are compelled to read about you out of pure hatred if anything else. Infuriate them so much it doesn’t even cross their mind to look into anything else but the show you’re putting on for them."-

Terry annunciates every word, one at a time, so it has time to settle in, this undeniable reality that he deliberately wanted to make herself a source of vexation for everyone who ever meets her; fact of life was, something he's learned in almost seventy years of being alive that when someone was unbearable people were compelled, perhaps against their own better judgement to linger on such an individual. That meant even less of a chance of any shred of unwanted light ever falling on you. Because a Cheyenne would be here playing mimicry and mimes in front of the labyrinth that was his life. He looms over the table separating their respective seats and he fixates his gaze right on the woman who's brows have shot up, standing in the middle of her forehead, surprised. A man could knew he had it made when he could still shock an individual who's undoubtedly heard and seen it all. -"And when our deal is done and your contract is expired, I expect you to keep up the ruse. Act out the role of the begrudging, jilted irritant who won’t take 'no' for answer. Just in case someone’s wire tapping phones and reading messages. You’ll play out the role from prologue to epilogue because that's what I want you to do."- He points his finger right at her so the point of the emphasis he was underlining has a chance to settle in and dry like concrete while he walked towards a small safe standing on the freshly set up mantlepiece, the code already unlocked for the occasion and nothing but a manilla folder inside of it; unnamed, unmarked and untitled. He lifts it up briefly for her to see, throwing it on the glass table in front of her with a thud. He was just an old man, after all. He had ample time to dedicate himself to things like this, as a side-hobby, for its own sake. -"Here’s a copy of the script I’ve mentioned. You can look through it at leisure. Personally put together by me."- His index finger is still on the file and if Cheyenne Hamidi was shocked a moment ago, her mouth unfurls suddenly as she heartily threw her head full of dark, heavy curls back in laughter, immaculately white, ceramic veneers on full display; he chuckles with her. What? Did she expect he'd allow her to improvise and take matters into her own hands. He knew how to write an annoying, West Coast quasi-hippie better than anyone else.

He was already a young man in the 60's.

-"Oh, how mindful!"-

She covers her lips for a second, right before clapping her hands together in mirth.

-"You know, I was once a crisis actor, a long, long time ago —"-

She starts, trailing off and catching her breath.

Oh, he knew. She once pretended to be a natural disaster survivor posed to take off the attention from actual victims and their families threatening to sue a company responsible for forest fires that devasted an entire neighborhood and the wretched, rotten opportunism of that was so vile that he had to be entertained by it when he first discovered it; so much experience and untapped potential that could've gone to good use with the highest bidder. Now, here's a likeminded, duplicitous asshole, he thought.

 -"But, you? You really are something. Why I enjoy working with you."-

She complements and he hums in response, producing a bottle from one of the cabinets; a thirty year old golden Macallan and two heavy crystal glasses clutched thumb to index finger in each hand--- now that business was done, a toast was very much deserved. -"From one professional to another."- Terry coos, pouring and sliding her her liquor across the smooth, glass table with carved legs, lifting up his shot whiskey glass for a toast, catching her lingering and adjusting herself in her seat, like something was still on her mind. He catches her smoothing her own chin, looking around, as is searching for answers in the walls, on the surrounding paintings, the interior decoration, the discreet folder in front of her, the palm trees in the courtyard swaying against an overcast, vanilla sky that heralded a rain. -"One last thing, though. A woman’s curiosity."- She threads carefully, puckering her lips anxiously, her voice hopeful as she watched him take a sip, digging his own hand into his pocket; recognizing his own body language and what it was saying. -"May I see her? A picture? A portrait? The real flesh and blood person?"- She requests, for once vulnerable sounding, not to be mistaken for a trick to get him disarmed and empathetic. His own shoulders shimmy and he feels himself change positions, from one leg to another, throwing his jaw out, lips firm. -"Not a requirement of my work terms, but lets just say I’d be fascinated to meet the individual who’d inspire, well, all of this."- Cheyenne extends her arm riddled in golden bangles, bracelets and fingers riddled with oversized statement rings, gesturing vaguely at the table and the behavioral script he's designed for her and without a shred of joy, Terry snorts coldly. Everyone always thinks they're the exception to the rule, huh? She really thought a man who made up an entire artificial life for himself; who went as far as acquiring this property, furnishing it in a way that painted a certain light of him, hiring out a whole person to add paint to that image, even going as far as changing his own fashion sense for a spell, everything on him all non-threatening beiges, pastels and jewel tones, his hair worn down, in a display of pliancy and friendless, eyes obscured by the warm tinge of his yellow shades, like a flesh eating plant luring in an unassuming fly with its colors...she really thought that man would just go and make introductions to someone he coveted more than life itself?

The soft drizzle starts beating against the colossal windows.

Winter has come to The Valley.

-"I’ve been married for forty three years and that’s a line I’ve never crossed so far. Don’t intend to now, Ms. Hamidi."-

He senses his voice looming, taking on a low edge; dangerous and unflinching.

The woman sits there quietly as the windswept waves crash outside the veranda.

Something akin to suppressed awe in her face.

-"Extreme circumstances require extreme measures."-

Is the last thing Terry Silver says, downing his liquor in one breath.

Your face as vividly in front of him as the ocean.

[sozzledjuja]

Mephisto & Praxina - A Relationship Analysis

Because part of me wishes that the twins' dynamic had been more explored in the show, while Mephisto was still "alive".

There are honestly so many scenes, especially in season 2, where you could feel the main underlying issues between them, but they were never actually adressed or explored.

Also, feel free to add your own thoughts, maybe stuff that I missed, or things you disagree with as well.

Let's start with this scene, from Cute As A Doll, which I'm surprised not more people are talking about:

So, Praxina gets hurt by Auriana's blast, and Mephisto immediately stops his chase for Iris to teleport next to his sister, to make sure she's alright.

Aaaaanddd- she yells at him for caring/worrying, telling him to just go after Iris.

LOOK AT HIS FACE BRO. Homeboy was truly worried, but then immediately gets back in the game.

It's easy to just look at the dismissive and "careless" way in which Praxina treats Mephisto most of the time, and rule her off as "heartless". However, this sentiment seems to also be present when HE tries to "connect" or worries about her.

We see this again in Forget You:

She sees attachments and emotions as a sign of weakness and vulnerability, and clearly doesn't allow herself to feel it and lashes out whenever her brother does.

This refusal to accept love and affection is usually born out of an inherent lack of trust in people. It comes from a place of fear. She seems to prefer to remain impartial and formal as much as possible, regardless of how much her brother (or anyone else, for the matter) wishes to get close to her.

When it comes to other people, I believe she simply doesn't trust that the gestures of affection are real/genuine.

Good!Praxina, in Forget You I believe, was less of a "possibly redeemed" Praxina and more of a "blank page" Praxina, as in, what she would've been like had none of the Gramorr or the other bad stuff happened.

Still, let's not forget that Good!Praxina still clearly had some concerning instincts, so some of her less pleasant characteristics like her destructive behavior, lack of empathy, difficulty accepting affection and praise, and connecting with people, were probably already there since the beggining.

Iris said it herself:

Remember, Good!Praxina still didn't like the idea of helping people when the girls first tried to teach her how to be a good person; Only AFTER being exposed to good influences did she actually begin to redirect her energy torwards "good" goals, and I think this proves that, in a different, more positive enviromnent, she would've definetly turned out differently.

But, alas- she didn't, so here I am, writing this big ass psychological assessment. Which is mostly her fault.

Also Mephisto clearly has some issues of his own when it comes to how his sister treats him (which, let's be honest, while I wouldn't call it abusive, she definetly isn't an easy person to care about).

Also the fact that she seems to think he's incapable of doing anything right definetly bothers him more than he lets on.

It's easy to laugh these moments off but there's definetly something much deeper going on.

Again

And again

And again. and this one was fucked up

And in many other times.

Oh- and the fact that she always blames him for everything. Which is another one of Praxina's biggest flaws: an inability to admit fault or take any sort of accountibility. Aaand shifting the blame.

Which he knows, and this is clearly something that he takes and takes, until he snaps.

This moment in If You Can't Beat Them was also really telling on how he actually feels about how his sister never actually shows any appreciation for his contributions, and seems to think he's weaker and less capable of reason as she is.

I genuinely do not know what goes through Praxina's brain to make her do this. I don't know wether she actually genuinely believes he's stupid and fucks everything up or not.

And Gramorr, although he doesn't outright show much preference for Praxina in spite of Mephisto, seems to share the sentiment, given that he appears to be slightly less patient/harsher towards him than his sister.

What I can say is that Praxina definetly believes that he is the weakest link between them (which might seem like it's true at first glance, but I wouldn't be so sure as to state it), which, given the previous statement, might also be a result of Gramorr himself thinking/saying it, since they've probably been training under his wing for quite a long time, which would make her (and Mephisto) easily influenced by his opinion, as an authority figure.

And he might pretend it doesn't effect him, but we all know that deep down it does, and that he's kinda insecure despite all his bravado.

I think Mephisto's always been more sensitive and more "emotionally-inclined" than his sister, even before Gramorr. I believe that both twins have the potential to be good, but Mephisto is definetly more "hardwired" for it than Praxina.

And we already know what she thinks about that: emotion=weakness.

And part of her wants to keep reminding him she's better too. The girl's got a big ego to stroke.

Mephisto also seems to have more morals than his sister.

We can see that throughout the show he's helped the princesses sometimes: Iris, with whom he teamed up with to save his sister in If You Can't Beat Them, in which he even told her he'd be honored to serve her as queen of Ephidea, had circunstances been different, which I truly believe he meant;

And Carissa, in Statue Game, who he ALSO teamed up with to save his sister, and who, let's not forget, he gave the other evil amulet back to, so that the princesses could reverse the spell that turned that human girl into stone.

And when Gramorr got the last gem, Mephisto seemed to actually be horrified by what was happenning.

He clearly wasn't totally fine with enslaving the entire planet.

Praxina, on the other hand, seemed pretty okay with it.

Ecstatic even.

She's relishing in what's happening, that's what she wants. To bend other to her will, to be feared rather than loved, to have power over others.

Maybe not what she needs, but what she WANTS.

Mephisto realizing that is GOLD from a storytelling prespective.

I feel like he looked at her in hopes she'd be as concerned as he was, that they were on the same page about the situation, only to find her- well, laughing. I joked about this being his "oh shit, these people are actually evil" moment, but I think part of him was only surprised with Praxina. Maybe he hadn't realized just how far this "lifestyle" had actually shaped his sister.

We know for sure that Mephisto has higher levels of empathy than Praxina. And common sense. This is why I always disagree when people say that Praxina is smarter than Mephisto. She might be more "logical" and "rational", but neither of those things equate to cleverness. Mephisto seems to be more astute and more intuitive.

Him starting to realize Gramorr was probably not gonna give them shit is a great example of this.

Which Praxina did NOT even think about. She was on a high, thinking about all the power they were gonna have now that Gramorr was free and back in action. Miss girl, you are delusional.

Honestly Praxina's fatal flaws deserve their own separate post.

Because let's be clear: I'm trying to debunk all of the twin's relationship issues, and everytime, it's clear who's actually responsible for everything going badly in the emotional realm.

I love her but she IS the problem. Not saying Mephisto is a poor innocent baby who never did anything wrong his whole life (I'm looking at you, lolirock fandom). He definetly has a lot of flaws and bad traits himself, but he's not the one to blame for anything regarding his and his sister's relationship.

To conclude,

THIS is normal sibling behaviour.

All the rest I showed above this SHOULD. NOT. BE.

This is not me saying they have a bad relationship, but I am saying that they don't have a fantastic one either.

Also, I blame dark magic too. The Team has confirmed it makes them more irritable, so there's that too.

They really care about each other, and I don't doubt that BOTH of them would do anything to keep the other safe. But they got lots of unspoken stuff to talk about.

And are both in desperate need of therapy

[pomefioredove]

angelum

summary: morally insecure reader type of post: fic characters: rollo additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, yuu is at nbc now, hurt/comfort, a little fluffy, extremely self indulgent, rollo is ptsd coded as per usual

Perhaps he didn't know you as well as he thought.

But then again, perhaps he didn't want to.

Rollo had become accustomed to the comfortable home you had made yourself within his mind, warm and comforting and far, far away from the dark crevices he worked so hard to stave off.

It mirrored reality, in a sense; he saw it as his duty to keep you safe and away from all the evils of the world, the magic and sin and those who would lead you astray... some days, he felt that he could shrug the rest of his life off his shoulders and solely devote himself to your keeping. Others, he was bothered by nasty thoughts of doubt, those that told him he was only doing to you now what he couldn't have done all those years ago.

Rollo kept himself occupied enough to avoid thinking about it too much.

He did not see a reason to tell you of his mission, of course. You- pure, perfect, untainted by the sins of this world- wouldn't understand. No one would. But you never questioned it, either. Most days, you were simply happy to be treated well (the implications of which he did not want to dwell on; Rollo had made himself a promise not to pry too much about your experience at Night Raven College).

Always so grateful. So kind. Too kind, sometimes, that it caught him off guard. Rollo had not had a friend since...

...Never mind, that.

So perfect. So pure. Everything he could ever aspire to be, but never would, all captured in one person. An angel sent for him, and him alone.

But just as there were things you wouldn't understand about him, there was a sea of mysteries about you.

He can't imagine how you could cause yourself such grief.

Delicately holding your face between his hands, palms gently pressed to each wet, salty cheek, as if you were made of porcelain. He wipes away your tears with his thumbs, not bothering to pull away to retrieve his handkerchief. He can't even think of that right now. Seeing you in such pain is tearing him into halves.

"I'm a bad person,"

"No," he says, almost immediately. His voice sounds more desperate than he would have liked. He can't help it.

"I am,"

He had already spent thousands of nights wishing for some miracle that could heal unseen wounds, but that desire had become stronger than ever now. He would have gladly torn his heart out of his chest and given it to you if it would help.

He hates it. He hates that you make him feel this way. He hates himself for caring so deeply.

Yet, he still can't hate you.

Never you.

"You're not," he insists. "Tell me what's happened. I will make it better."

You don't respond, and it kills him. However you managed to get such an awful idea about yourself, he can't say. Perhaps it came from Night Raven College. Perhaps it's even older than that.

It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter, because it is not true.

It's not true.

It's not true.

After all, if you are a bad person, then what does that make him?

You avoid his eyes. "You can't," there's long pause to take a shaky breath. "You can't make it better. I've tried... I've been trying... it doesn't go away. It's like... I've been shattered into a million pieces, and I can't be put back together again."

Rollo winces, though he doesn't show it on his face.

There are these things you do, these brief moments, soft exchanges of words, certain looks on your face, that remind him all too much of himself.

He pities you. He pities himself.

"Stop it," is all he can think to say. "Do not say such things about yourself. You are not broken. You are not evil. Do you think I would dirty myself by associating with such people?"

You're quiet for a long moment. He does not like the silence, so he keeps talking.

"I cannot address what you won't tell me, thought you should know that no matter what you were told at Night Raven College or elsewhere, here, you are valued. You are wanted. You are the most..."

Rollo hesitates for a moment, taking but a second to compose himself and rephrase whatever it was he was about to say.

"...the most exceptional student I have ever met. Your humility is honorable, but I will not allow you to drown in it. Let yourself feel this, recover, but know that here, at Noble Bell, you are nothing less than an angel."

Failing to find anything else to say, another long silence is cast over the room, though this one significantly less tense than the last. The only noise between the two of you is of crackling fire, though it sounds miles away when he looks at you like this.

Eventually, you speak. "...Thank you,"

"My pleasure," he mumbles, finally releasing the hold he's had on your face for the past several minutes and leaning back to get a better look at you. "...Let me help."

He sits a little closer, bringing your head to rest on his shoulder as he's done a thousand times before within the private confines of his room. Though, this time feels...

The purple and gold of his handkerchief cloud your vision as he gently dabs at your tears until he's satisfied, which he marks with a soft hum.

"Don't get up yet," he says after, allowing you to lean against his body for much longer than he has before. "The fire is still warm."

[yoriichitsugikunii]

I told yall I'll become Haruhime's no.1 fan now and really annoying, so here's a post on the topic because this fandom greatly pisses me off. This might ruffle some feathers but it needed to be said.

Y'all are too dramatic about people shipping Haruhime (I'm aware it's not her real name) and Michikatsu.

A thread 🧵

Disclaimer, I wrote this in a few minutes and it's mostly brain storming. There might be cuss words and it's not really articulate. Also — im not shading anyone this is simply my opinion on this matter.

Is their relationship basically nothing? Yes, I don't ship them either. But so many of you act as if this was some sort of abusive loveless cage both of them couldn't get out of. Kny fans desperately need to learn what abuse means. As someone who was actually in an emotionally abusive relationship, this ain’t it.

No, it's not fair to compare Michikatsu and his wife to Kotoha and her ex husband or Nakime and hers. Because unlike those, we have no proof that the actual marriage was bad. In fact, the manga pretty much tells us they were content with their situation. Technically she’s not even an actual “ex wife.” Since he just abandoned her.

I'm sure this is the face you make to the woman you can't stand/sarcasm. People deadass make it sound as if he was repulsed by her when that was never the case.

And no, this is not me saying Michi loved her, it would be more fucked up if he did and he still left her, but this is me saying yall are looking at arranged marriages too narrowly.

You see arranged marriages as a trope where they have to fall in love along the way.

And if they don't, you see it as a death sentence. Mind you, the historical and cultural context matters here too. Yes, arranged marriages are established to continue a bloodline. But here's the catch, that were most if not all of marriages at that time.

You cannot look at arranged marriage as a death sentence in this context when they don't have the normalized concept of a love marriage to compare or "wish for". Marriage wasn't seen as a sign of love or a love connection or whatever marriage is called today until Meiji era.

Moreover, sort of the main goal (aside continuing the family) when it comes to living arrangements, is sort of to manage to coexist and cooperate. Michikatsu wasn't miserable because his marriage sucked, he was just miserable. The manga pretty much proves they were content.

I personally like to think they were friends and each did their duties in the marriage well.

And I also have to REMIND y'all that the whole purpose of that marriage existing and him leaving his family is for him to later REALISE how pointless it all was.

Even if he didn't love his wife, he still did realise he threw away so much for a purpose that was pointless and fruitless. He arguably REGRETS his actions.

Also. He says he was blessed to have a wife and kids. No he doesn't mean he loved his ex wife but he sure as hell didn't hate them OR mistreat them

READ KNY FAN READDDD

Also, I need to remind yall that you use arranged marriage argument to prove they were stuck miserable tooooo much for my liking when it's never mentioned. It's most likely (I believe it too), but yall are acting as if we SAW their arrangement and how unhappy they were with it.

Also yall talk about arranged marriage like a death sentence but probably love kagamane or uzuiwives, and saying they love each other proves my point on how yall see arranged marriage.

I don't think people making AUs where he doesn't leave her and they live a peaceful life is such a fucking crime. Considering the problem with their relationship comes WITH HIM LEAVING HER. All proof from the manga tells us their marriage was otherwise decent.

And the reason why I'm saying this is because, (sorry to kiburei oomfs i love yall but this HAS to be said) if you can make kiburei a healthy relationship where Muzan loves and cares for her, when it's literally built on deceit and lies, you have no right to be angry if people make Michi's life normal. You can practically even say that's just what if he never left a scenario 😭 it's not anywhere as dramatic as y'all make it seem

Sure, people acting like their relationship was some doomed romance is annoying but it's as if Michikatsu mistreated Haruhime for it to be an offending exaggeration.

And I'll say, if I already haven't, that I don't like or care about the ship myself. I do care how yall clutch your pearls around it though.

One last thing, a lot of you also try to push the narrative that the relationship was abusive/toxic, but still LIKE Kokushibo (and no I'm not talking about writing), you make content where he's happy, you ship him and talk about him as person positively and this is because there's no such thing as mutual abuse, if their relationship was abusive, someone had to abuse the other.

So if he was sooooo terrible to his ex wife who didn't deserve it, why do you still like him. This is also why I never believe yall bitches that say you feel so bad for her and that she deserved better. Yall never talk about her bffr.

On the flip side, because of what I said earlier, a lot of yall also can't accept that Haruhime was rightfully wronged and somehow try to spin this situation where they were mutually bad to each other or where he suffered in the marriage more than she suffered from him leaving. Some people in the fandom act as if it was her fault that he abandoned her and their children. When she should be getting credit for managing to raise their children on her own in the Sengoku era.

[13-torturedpoet-13]

I just finished watching Final Destination Bloodlines at home and I have some thoughts to share.

I watched the movie in theaters three times and I loved it all three times. I had high hopes for this movie and all of my expectations were exceeded. I highly recommend watching this movie especially if you're a fan of the franchise because it sorta expands on the lore. Personally, I think that it's one of the best movies in the franchise. I don't say that lightly because all of the films except the fourth film are fantastic and entertaining. My favorite movie of the franchise is Final Destination 3 because I vividly remember watching it in theaters and it messed me up for a bit. I'm talking about having nightmares about dying on a rollercoaster, but this post isn't about that movie. This post is about Final Destination Bloodlines so let's get into it.

For starters, I love that it focuses on a family trying to cheat death because it's always been a group of friends or strangers. I feel as if it being a family made the stakes higher. I can't imagine how awful it would be to have to watch your family members die in gruesome ways and more than likely you can't save them.

I really love that the main character was played by Kaitlyn Santa Juana who is a woman of color. I think that the franchise should have more people of color as the main character. I also enjoyed Teo Briones as Charlie because it was awesome to see him in another project since I haven't seen him in anything since the Chucky TV series.

Everyone's acting was great and I applaud everyone involved because there wasn't a single bad performance. I want to single out Richard Harmon because he was the standout for me. I haven't seen any of his prior work, but I'm going to start watching The 100 soon.

Another thought is that the characters are written in a way that you grow to truly care about them, therefore, you're left devastated when they die. I know that my favorite characters are Erik and Bobby. I love Erik because of his smartass personality, but also because he geniunely loved and cared about Bobby. Speaking of Bobby, he was so freaking precious with his little graphic tees and his pet Paco. I wanted him to survive so badly especially since he was willing to temporarily sacrifice himself to save the remaining family members. Given what the movies are about I knew that more than likely no one was going to survive. However, I was still heartbroken when both Bobby and Erik met their fates especially since it felt very malicious and the buildup was fantastic. I must say that I might favor the Campbell siblings over the Reyes siblings. I simply enjoyed the dynamic between Erik and Bobby more than the dynamic between Stefani and Charlie. As you may have noticed, I left out Julia because she's the one character that didn't have much development. She didn't feel very important to the story. I will say that if you do take the time to watch her in the background, you will see that she was helping Bobby look for Paco and she was concerned when she found out that Erik had been involved in the fire at the tattoo parlor and she did tell Stefani that she loves her, but hates her sometimes. You also learn that Julia and Stefani used to be best friends before Stefani left for college and basically cut ties with everyone. I do wish that Julia could have gotten a bit more focus and development. I also really loved Howard because the character was so sweet, loving, and understanding. He was great in the little bit of screentime he had.

All of the kills were so creative and fun. I know that everyone loves the MRI one and I wholeheartedly agree that it's the best one in the movie. It might even be the best kill in the entire franchise. I also know that some people didn't like the ending disaster because it involved a train and logs like Final Destination 3 and Final Destination 2 respectively. However, I'm not one of those people because I quite enjoyed it. I think that it was a nice way to pay homage to those two movies. I also love that the penny that initially caused the tower collapse came right back around and ultimately caused the death of the final two remaining descendants of the tower collapse visionary.

Speaking of the tower collapse, this disaster is definitely in my top three favorites alongside the rollercoaster and car pile up. I love how the entire disaster was started by an annoying kid with a penny. The buildup to the disaster was very suspenseful and left me feeling so anxious, even though I knew what was coming. I also enjoyed all the kills that happened in the tower like the one man and the elevator or the annoying kid and the piano. I really loved the degloving scene when Iris was trying to save a young Bludworth. It's literally my worst fear whenever I'm wearing rings. I think that Brec Bassinger was fantastic in the small amount of screentime that she got as young Iris. I would have happily watched a movie focused solely on a young Iris that was learning how to avoid death. I do wish that we had learned what exactly happened to Paul to cause his death because it's mentioned briefly that it was an accident of some sorts. Speaking of Paul, he was such a great character because it was so sweet how much he loved Iris. I would have loved to see more of their story. Anyways, this disaster has solidified the fact that I'm not going anywhere near a tower that has a glass floor. I'm not about to play with my life like that.

Finally, I love more than anything that Tony Todd was able to reprise his role as William Bludworth. It was heartbreaking to see how sick and skinny he was. I did love that he was able to come back to the franchise one last time and he had a chance to say goodbye to the fans. Speaking of that, I loved his speech about how life is precious and you should make the most of the time that you have. I'm not ashamed to admit that I cried and I still think about the speech to this day. I also loved how we finally learned that Bludworth was a survivor of the tower collapse and that's why he seemed to know a good amount of information about death yet never tried to intervene with the other survivors. I do wish that we could have seen more of the friendship between Iris and Bludworth because it would have been interesting to see them figuring out how to cheat death over the years.

[mysticaldistancing]

About Richard's feelings and the ending (kinda)

(I just finished TSH and has some unhinged thoughts that I can't keep to myself.. anyway—)

I strongly believe that Richard never 'loves' Camilla.

Sure, he romanticize her to the max. But to whom would he not in that group? Well, Camilla is the worst one because Richard thought he loves her. One might say "Wasn't he all jealous & stuff?" Thing is, he didn't specify to whom. It's between the two of them, for sure. People will immediately assume it's the girl. Though, considering the way Richard felt such odd, wild rage towards Camilla to the point he say those (yk what,) nasty things. Arguably, you wouldn't do that to the person you wholeheartedly love & worship; except if the person you actually love loved that person, you'd wish all the bad things to them, won't you?

Remember the way he almost cry when talked to Henry in the garden out of desperation, and now compared it to the way he react to Camilla out of desperation. He even felt pleasure upon hurting her feelings! He didn't even think of hurting Henry's whatsoever. Richard couldn't care less that Charles abused her (and instead fantasized those horrible, horrible things.)

The way he pondered to himself, not a single hateful blame placed on Henry, he feels bound to obey, perhaps reluctantly,

And,

He only remembered Camilla when she was around, but Henry? every single damn occasion. And I mean it, I don't want to attach too many media because of how much simple things bring him back to him. Fine, one example.

The way he said, just a second after proposing to the woman he supposedly love, "I loved him, too," and Camilla herself replied "I know you did." And the 'love' here is in the context of romantic love. I hope it makes it clear that Camilla actually awares (!!!), which meant that one time in the past, Henry told her something, at least.

the person he sees the most in the hospital when everything else was a blur? Henry.

It was also beyond me that Henry's understanding of Richard is heavily overlooked by the fandom. People argue if Henry really did care for Richard or that he simply used Richard. Then again, there's a hint of truth in both statement.

I looked at him. There was so much I wanted to ask him, so much I wanted to say; but somehow I knew there wasn’t time and even if there was, that it was all, somehow, beside the point.

“Are you happy here?” I said at last.

He considered this for a moment. “Not particularly,” he said.

“But you’re not very happy where you are, either.”

— The Secret History, Donna Tartt

(Ever wondered what Henry whispered to Camilla? My guts is saying that, it has something to do with Richard, don't you think? and in the last moment Henry said "I love you," strangely enough, to no one specifically. Perhaps, what he whispered to her, was for her. And the second one? You tell me.

This one is a reach, don't know, don't quote me on that really.)

Here's a bonus anyway. I wonder why no one talked about this.

Super domestic. "The first thing," he said. I can't emphasize this enough that these two are mutually obsessed with each other.

[siren-of-fire]

The whole debate of curing Pili/Ace was finally a bit strongly talked about yesterday and again the argument never reached a conclusion.

Tr!Bad questioned this yesterday and was nudging both Lukey and Aimsey to pick a side because they seem really conflicted. If they truly believe corruption is this mind controlling evil thing then why do they even hesitate to cure Pili? And if they think curing him is something they should do with permission then what's even the point of cure and calling corruption bad? Aren't they just letting Pili get consumed by this "bad purple thing" and simply doing nothing about it just because Pili said no? So isn't that wrong too?

It's simply a argument of "we need to do the right thing and stick to our morals" but Aimsey themselves said they didn't knew if it was Bad speaking or the corruption so how can they simply just agree with Pili's denial of getting cured like they usually have been doing so far? How can anyone know if Ace saying no is him or corruption when Ace himself can't differentiate between what is him and what is corruption anymore?

With Pili 2 Aimsey and Pangi did plan to use force and get him cured because they thought doing so would make him remember everything but that isn't the case anymore. Ace remembers everything so the point of arguments of corruption being bad due to it causing memory loss is off the table. There definitely was a time when Pili 2 was alive when curing him would have been easier but since nobody pushed for it and Pili's condition only grew worse. The cure was made after Pili 2 died and later Ace showed up who appreciates corruption to a degree even Pili 2 never did.

Both Aimsey and Lukey do know as more time passes the corruption becomes worse, Pili 2 was even against spreading corruption himself and used to work with keepers by directly feeding the corruption to his firefly. And overtime we saw with Pangi get worse physicaly thanks to this corruption. The urge to spread corruption simply just grows stronger in the infected person the longer they stay infected

So again who in this scenario gets to make that decision?

Lukey says it should be people who knew Pili before he was corrupted which is Bad and Pangi. Leaving aside Bad because of reasons, Pangi on other hand as someone who was corrupted understands Pili and doesn't wish for anyone to force a cure on him. When he himself was corrupted Pili despite being corrupted was one of the only person who did give Pangi a choice (of either joining his side or getting cured) and didn't lie/manipulate him. Which later Pangi thanked him for after getting cured.

Well leaving aside Badgerduo, the other people closest people who knew him from his time as Pili 2 are Foolish, Sneeg, Ros and maybe Zam too but they simply aren't around and things are definitely changed now that Ace remembers everything. Only person who Ace trusts the most is Foolish but again he just isn't around.

So again speaking who gets to decide? Aimsey and Lukey have never even been in the list of people Pili trusts or been close friends with him. But surely someone has to make a choice because Ace is literally a harbinger, the more they delay it the more will the corruption tree inside his mind grows. Lukey said it that if Pili keeps spreading corruption then he will force a cure on him, then the rational argument would be "because Pili is putting evryone in harm by spreading it so i decided to cure him".

In a way both Lukey and Aimsey are just looking for a valid reasoning to rationalize the forced curing route. And this was something Bad kept bringing up yesterday, if they truly think corruption is a threat then why aren't they curing it when they have do have the cure, what is this hesitation of wanting to do the right thing and being conflicted about it. They know the person under corruption's influence is not themselves or atleast that's what they both believe so why this deep hesitation?

But that's the thing, they have to make a choice, simply going by trying to rationalize is not the way clearly because Pili and even corruption is only growing worse on the Realm even among the keepers. Aimsey said corrupted people need to be saved then why does it seem like both them and Lukey are looking for reasons to make "The choice, or A choice" and that reasoning either being the corrupted person doens't remember (Pili 2 and Pangi), the corrupted person keeps putting others at risk (Ace) or corrupted person acts differently then normal they are used too (Pili 2 and Bad with their detached emotionless voice).

Pangi was very direct by simply saying fudge morals and wanting to bring Bad back, because there is no middle ground here of "doing the right thing" you have to be a little selfish and if you truly believe this corruption requires saving them simply do it rather then thinking twice about it.

And at some point during the whole conversation even Aimsey just reached a conclusion and rationalised that killing Bad is actually him wanting it or in a way a method to save him, again having to pick a choice ultimately.