#There was a reason I was so drawn to it. There's a reason why even though I'm like you don't have to call yourself Vepar around me @ her

[ph-cutie]

why is evrart's portrait so weird? a visual and written analysis.

Most of us on this website have warm sentiments towards him, but I feel confident in saying that his portrait art looks, or has looked, somewhat off-putting to a lot of people, and that this fact was intentional. So if you've always felt a little strange looking at him, but couldn't put your finger on why, I've got you! This is a remake of a 1k word, 12 paragraph post I've made on reddit this same day, but tweaked to be in a more tumblr cadence :3

FORENOTE: This post is solely about the portrait art. Not the man portrayed in the model and concept art, or his general features. Just making that clear.

BACK TO BUSINESS: I've made a little diagram circling out and numbering the most jarring parts of this image.

TLDR: this piece draws on mild anatomical distortions and body language discrepancies to catch the viewer offguard. if you want to know more you're a VERY lucky person, because i've got nearly 800 words explaining each point for you, under the readmore.

UNUSUALLY LONG&WIDE LOWER FACE: Probably the thing most people actually notice. Even compared to other images of him, his jaw is quite exaggerated. wouldn't stand out had the rest of him been unremarkable, however he is *very* remarkable.

STRAINED SMILE - MUSCLE TENSION: I'm not super into the "true and genuine good person smile" vs "deceitful scary smile" dichotomy, I myself am cursed with a jimmy donaldson smile. However, his smile does not look restful/easy-going. It's very horizontal. Corner 1 is pushing excessively into his cheek, corner 2 isn't even angled up. Lower lip is stuck out. CONCLUSION: looks forceful and a little painful on his end. Not the weirdest part of the image, but it creates problems later down the line with his other features.

FOGGY GLASSES: They say that eyes are the windows of the souls, and his design messes with that by fogging up his glasses. But even that has another layer to it, so let's peel it! His right eye (to the right of the image) is looking at the viewer, however, the glass obstructs it to such a degree that we do not get any functional information from it beyond the knowledge that it exists. His left eye is drawn much clearer, however, it's not looking at us. It can't tell us anything about what it's owner is feeling, it has nothing to do with us. For people who care about eye contact, this part of the drawing was made to be frustrating. The connection is juust out of reach :)

LACK OF VISIBLE EYEBROWS: Eyebrows are one of the most expressive parts of the face, and he's lacking them for whatever reason. Not much more to say on that for now.

NONSENSICAL PLACEMENT OF HEAD ON BODY: Compared to the concept art, where his shoulder is a little below his earlobe, the portrait's shoulder is portrayed as above THE ear. Basically, there is no neck/separation between his head and body. The rest of the drawing doesn't give a clear explanation on why this is (such as if he were clearly portrayed as sticking his head forward), so I deem this to be a genuine anatomic perversion. (AFTERNOTE: APPROXIMATELY 20 PEOPLE ON REDDIT HAVE TOLD ME "no that's actually the back of his chair you can tell from this slight hue shift" MAYBE IT IS. BUT I DO NOT BELIEVE THAT ANYONE REALLY NOTICED THAT LITTLE PIXEL LINE, AT THE SIZE OF THE PORTRAIT WHICH IS PORTRAYED INGAME. THE PAINTER KNEW WHAT IT LOOKED LIKE. SO DONT BOTHER ME ABOUT IT )

ARCHED CURVATURE OF THE SHOULDER- MUSCLE TENSION AGAIN: But I'm not done with his shoulders! His shoulder have an arched shape, which means he's hiking them up. Much like with his smile, it's a forceful posture, associated typically with some kind of discomfort. (SAME AFTERNOTE AS POINT 5)

LACK OF DETAIL IN THE CLOTHES: While we can choose what we look at, the human eye will always be drawn to the most striking or detailed parts of images. Artists know this. Often-times, we wish for the viewer to look at the face of a character- hence the popularity of anime girls with glossy, candy-colored eyes. Claire's zone of maximum detail density starts at his nose and ends at the bottom of his double chin. His clothes, meanwhile, are basically just flat shapes. His background is very simple too. SO basically, the remainder of the image is a graphical desert, and his jowls are the oasis your eyes will always wander back to :D.

THESIS: Claire's anatomy is mildly distorted in points 1 and 5, which immediately throws off the audience. His body language is strained, borderline convulsive in points 2 and 6, while his features at 3 and 4, which we look at for information (is he happy? angry? in pain?), are left blank. This discrepancy leaves us emotionally confused and unsatisfied. Thus, the vague sense of something being wrong with no further information. Point 7 is just a little garnish to maximize the above effects. Tada! that's it.

WHY DID I WRITE THIS?: People usually focus on beautiful art and what makes it as such- I've seen many brilliant analyses of Lieutenant Kitsuragi's portrait and why it comforts us. But I find it equally interesting to break apart pieces that just don't emotionally click with us, that feel off, and I also love Evrart Claire, and find him to be a good example of this that nobody seems to have previously discussed. So I took on the challenge! I find his portrait art actually really cute now so this is mostly drawn on from the feelings of Ghost of ph-cutie Past. I genuinely doubt anyone will read all of this so if u have, I thank u from the bottom of my heart <3.

[loveandlegacy]

would love to hear more about your theory that the black rose will torture magic out of mel 👀

lol it's sort of based on nothing but scraps but let's start with the actual opening sequence. we get this glimpse of mel with hands all around her and we know now from the show that the hands are the black rose (their magic manifests as roses/thorns/grabbing hands). but also in general i think it feels kind of important that hands grabbing at a person's body are like generally regarded as a violation of that person right? like mel obviously isn't consenting to being touched, her expression is pained. to me it feels like in addition to the black rose being scary, these people are probably going to try to hurt her physically.

but why would they do that! ig maybe just to get back at ambessa for whatever their "feud" is, but if that were their only goal why would they kidnap mel and not just. assassinate her? that would certainly be more expeditious. that happens all the time. but holding mel hostage and/or torturing her feels a very specific and different choice.

in the lore, the black rose is described a cabal that has been influencing noxian politics for centuries. in the present moment they: "[exist] now to further the clandestine interests of those who can wield the magic hidden within the Immortal Bastion—with its rank-and-file composed of mundane nobles, drawn to rumors of miracles, kept in thrall and ruthlessly exploited. Even the most powerful military commander could only ever serve the cult's true masters, as they fight one another for influence in games of intrigue and conquest, both in the Noxian capital and beyond its borders." (from the league fandom wiki; emphasis mine)

but elora stated that ambessa is LOSING influence. she has been stripped of many of her holdings and seems to have been backed into a desperate corner, so it doesnt seem super likely that the black rose kidnapped mel in order to manipulate ambessa into furthering their power within noxus. she is outside the power structure for now, that's the whole reason she went to piltover in search of hextech weaponry.

instead i think it's more likely that mel has something to do with the black rose's fixation on magic and magic users.

idk how much you know or care about league lore but i'll give a quick rundown here of one particular champion who has not appeared in the show: rell. in league, she's a 16 year old girl who possesses the powers of ferromancy and whose parents basically handed her over to the black rose as a child where they trapped her in a secret academy and violently augment her power thru forced combat and painful magical-medical procedures.

people have a lot of theories about whether or not rell has some relation to the medardas but i am not trying to get into that here. i bring her up mostly to highlight the fact that the black rose's obsession with magic and magic users has shown that they're basically totally okay with torture and child abuse if it furthers their ends of producing/controlling magic users and mages.

and we know from ambessa's MV that mel is PROBABLY touched or blessed or magic-infused by the kindred in some way

idk if this magic is dormant or hidden or what but if the black rose knows about it i can imagine they would be Very interested in trying to harness it (and mel) to their own ends. and especially if it IS dormant or if mel for some reason just doesn't want to use her magic, i can see the black rose resorting to torture to force the magic out of her.

lastly we also have this shot of her from the opening!

i think this is interesting mostly because we've never really seen mel in a state of really unbridled rage. we've seen her get very angry! at ambessa. but never like full-on screaming rage. but here it is happening in the opener! obviously there are a lot of things that could get someone to this point but i do think getting abducted, tortured, and forced into magic use would definitely be. one way. for that to happen. i know a lot of people think that this shot means she's going to somehow end up agreeing with ambessa about might-makes-right but i just don't see that being an arc for her character that makes any sense. she has so firmly positioned herself as someone who opposes both noxus's ideology and ambessa's ideology that i think the only way she could possibly become this wrathful is not because she agrees with ambessa but because something so dramatic has happened to her that she's basically forced to break from her principles in order to survive.

anyway lol! this is so long 😭 i'm sure whatever happens to mel the story will be both interesting and heartbreaking 💔

[sepublic]

I remember hearing that Dana was inspired by True Crime, amongst other things and people IRL, when writing Belos. And it seems that contrary to the notoriety of True Crime fans, she actually understood the assignment.

Because she opted to demystify the serial killer as this dark, unusual psychology that operates outside of societal borders and rules, disturbed by some secret reason, and instead literally pull off the mask to reveal he’s just some white manchild who hates women and minorities to a violent degree, because he feels threatened by them and their ability to say No in his entitlement. There’s nothing special or unique about his motives.

He’s no exception to the status quo, he is it unmasked of the veneer of civility, he’s the lynch mob and the cop (all of whom inherit the violence of white supremacy and colonialism) and fittingly a lot of serial killers were clocked by women and PoC as dangerous, but cops —largely white men— dismissed their claims because look at this dude, he seems like an upstanding citizen! And that’s really how he got away.

And because his victims were people the system was less likely to believe because they both operated on the same biases, you see why a lot of cops who commit brutality are drawn to an institution where they’re given violent power over brown and/or queer communities who are labeled as ‘suspicious’, because they enjoy easy targets they know the system doesn’t care about, and are enraged by body cams and accountability.

It doesn’t matter if they’re intentionally bigoted, their support of an inherently bigoted institution makes them the same; Internalized biases and “I don’t see race” and all that. You see how Philip wanted to be a witch hunter —the prototypical cop who is not exclusively violent towards women but still has a clear slant— or colonial savior so bad, because his violence could be legitimized by the authority of the state.

He leans into it hardcore when he feels threatened by the presence of an outside girl who challenges the Christian narrative of Gravesfield, to the point of violence; It’s a position that validates killing anyone who doesn’t agree with him in general, hence Caleb and the Grimwalkers, but of course his and society’s biases slant towards women and PoC. And while it ultimately doesn’t matter whether he’s intentionally racist/misogynistic, it’s worth addressing that he very much does have the intention due to his blatant Conservative backdrop.

And seeing how charming Philip is and the portrayal of him as a little kid playing games in his youth, a perception Caleb might’ve still had which led to his death, I can see the direct line to families who find out their sons are school shooters and are in disbelief because he was such a nice kid! While ignoring the obvious Red Flags because white men are allowed to express these without being immediately scrutinized by the community, by having it brushed off. On some level cops don’t suspect him because he’s the same type of guy as them.

Part of that denial comes from the fact that he’s not an “unfeeling sociopath” who’s wired differently. Philip can feel empathy and guilt like anyone else, but he’s still a hateful prick and these aren’t mutually exclusive; Not when people can be perfectly selective about who they extend these feelings towards, or even do things in spite of these feelings, because other ones —anger and pride and hatred— exist and they choose to prioritize those. There’s an assumption that empathy and guilt inherently make you a good person, but they don’t; That ultimately comes from what you do about it, not how you feel.

You could even say Dana and the other writers wrote him too well, because true to life, we have a similar issue but on a micro-scale via the abstraction of fiction regarding a very dedicated fan base who loves to romanticize him and his actions, attributing his issues to some secret trauma in childhood, a young man failed by society! While also scrubbing him of his racism and misogyny and reliance on the status quo, to make him ‘apolitical’ and you can see the same not just with fans but also in society.

Because society doesn’t want to acknowledge serial killers as just the truth behind their white sons and the system that absolved and encourages them, because that would require them to admit their guilt in how they’re structured. Rather, they’ll say these men reflect some dark truth inherent to humanity, and don’t exist within a certain sociopolitical framework.

And so he was a ‘loner’ whose problems can be pathologized via mental illness, his trauma can be traced back to a specific incident in his youth he just couldn’t get over. So you see how school shooters are made into victims, how serial killers are also made apolitical and even alien to distance them from the status quo.

And then you can lean into how unusual they are by writing characters like Dexter or Hannibal Lecter, you can not just defend the system but feed into it via the commodification of their violence as entertainment and consumption, and thus fuel the white supremacy train by letting their violence towards women and minorities be praised as something fascinating and interesting and conveniently clean of bigotry. This is the dichotomy of the hypothetical, romanticized Fantasy Serial Killer, and the banal IRL Serial Killer.

Thus we have the same cycle of white men’s violence being praised and validated by the system, and white men feeling entitled to this fame as a delusional fantasy. Because you’ve never heard of a black serial killer; Because black people are violent, that’s just the way they are, right? But if white men are violent, this is sensationalized as somehow unusual and fascinating and worth dedicating countless books and shows and movies towards. Obviously.

And even going back to witch hunters, sometimes I wonder about the constant consideration of, What if witches did exist? What if they were evil? Things like The VVitch or The Conjuring series, which have some framing of the Salem Witch Trials’ IRL violence towards women as legitimate in another universe, because of Satanism’s genuine predatory threat towards women, and how evil women sacrifice theirs or others’ God-given gift of a child, and now threaten another white Christian family.

And again there’s the the demystifying of the real life witch hunter too when we have a historical reenactment declare verbatim that IRL witch hunters were motivated by economics and other banal factors, not by any genuine belief in the dangers of demons; And even in a setting where the demons were real, they were not the predatory threat IRL witch hunters made them out to be, and so their very real biases and ulterior motives still apply in cumulative insincerity.

Hence, the Titan correcting Luz by explaining Belos as someone who only cares about being the hero in his own delusion; The fascist wet dream of a hidden invader here to corrupt even young white men, an outside monster to vanquish and whose destruction justifies the state, when in reality the monster IS the state, and before he was even presented as a witch (much less the human truth), his system’s destruction was called for.

Ultimately, a lot of True Crime and similar narratives are criticized for focusing more on this apparently inevitable mystique behind the perpetrators, who warrant far more attention than their victims. So when the villain is an example of True Crime, it’s worth noting how the show is so much more focused on the ‘weirdoes’ he targets, on women and/or PoC. The lives of Luz Noceda and her friends, them getting along and their psychologies, are just so much more important, and it really isn’t about that guy, who is informed as much as he needs to be.

But again, the True Crime fans dilemma; People genuinely salty at the show for not focusing on their favorite serial killer and his troubled backstory, his tragic motives and Puritan repression. The framing of his murders and motives isolated through the lens of his violence on undeserving white men, and not on the out-group he is specifically targeting and has committed much more violence on, esp if you look at the narrative’s actual framing of his impact on our protagonists, but also other victims who are witches or demons, and even his own self-professed motives; Hence, ‘Fratricide Georg’ as a joke depoliticized of his colonial violence, a violence that is not just adjacent to but fulfilling racism.

Because he hallucinated only those white men out of guilt, but that’s his biased perspective and priorities; And so you see how this is contrasted with a refusal to empathize with people like the Collector or Luz, who are put into the same situations as his white male victims via shared cinematography, yet are just as rejected. Luz is only put into this situation as convenient to Belos’ narrative, the closest replacement to a white male human he can get, but again if this girl of color says No, he tries to murder her and even does.

Yet again, people take genuine, personal insult at the creator for finding Belos to be her least favorite character to write, while ignoring that she still found him necessary to the story she was trying to tell; She just found the framing and focus should’ve been shifted to his actual victims’ deep and meaningful lives, how they matter. So people hate that S3 cares more about Luz Noceda’s relationship with her parents of color, as well as her female mentor and demonic brother, or her queer relationship with her girlfriend, etc.

And even when they get a bone of white boy Hunter, it’s still not enough; Fans inevitably gather themselves into an almost frenzied state of personal victimization, rallying into harassment of PoC who criticize their portrayal and discussion around their colonial serial killer fave, organizing dedicated trends and months to giving their white men the focus they ‘deserved’, because this is just White fandom in general.

Look at the entitlement campaigns regarding Ben Solo or Billy Hargroves deserving better, these young white men violent to women and minorities. It’s just the same thing but on a micro-scale, at least filtered via fictional characters. But Jesus you see how internalized biases bleed into everything. You’ve never heard of a black serial killer and fandom doesn’t fight for characters of color.

[legionofshaza]

Scars and shadows♡

Azriel week day 2 @azrielappreciationweek

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

The sky over the Illyrian mountains was painted in hues of twilight—lavender, gold, and a soft, deepening blue.It was peaceful, the kind of piece that Azriel had never quite allowed himself to embrace.

Until tonight.

Gwyn was sitting on a large rock near the edge of the mountain’s overlook, her coppery hair catching the final rays of the sun. Her laughter from earlier had faded into a quiet peace, but her eyes still sparkled with an inner light that always seemed to soothe Azriel’s shadows. He stood a few feet away, watching her, fighting the turmoil that had been brewing inside him since they began spending more time together. She had a way of drawing him out, of making him feel... seen, and it unnerved him.

He clenched his hands into fists, feeling the familiar pull of darkness inside him, a reminder of everything he had been through—of the scars he carried, inside and out. His instincts screamed at him to keep the walls up, to protect himself. But Gwyn was different. She had her own shadows, her own scars. And maybe that was why he felt drawn to her, why he wanted to let her in, even when every part of him resisted.

As if sensing his struggle, Gwyn turned to look at him, her gaze soft and understanding. “Azriel?” she called softly, her voice like a soothing melody, drawing him closer.

He exhaled and walked toward her, his boots crunching softly against the gravel. He settled beside her on the rock, staring out at the view. The silence between them was comfortable, but there was something in the air tonight—something unspoken.

“You seem distant,” she said after a moment, her voice gentle but probing. “Is something on your mind?”

Azriel didn’t answer right away. He turned his hands over, staring at the calloused palms, the faint silver lines that crossed his skin. His mind was far away, in a place darker than this mountain, darker than the skies above Velaris. The scars ran deeper than the surface.

“There’s something I haven’t told you,” he said quietly, his voice rough. “Something I’ve kept hidden for so long that sometimes... I forget how much it weighs on me.”

Gwyn’s eyes flicked to his face, concern flashing in her gaze. She didn’t speak, waiting for him to continue.

Azriel clenched his jaw, then with a deep breath, began to unbutton his tunic. He wasn’t sure why he was doing it—why he was about to expose a part of himself he had never willingly shown anyone, not like this. But Gwyn deserved to know. Maybe he needed her to know.

When his tunic fell open, Gwyn’s breath hitched. She hadn’t expected this—not the raw, brutal reality of what lay beneath. His torso was a canvas of scars, old and faded, but unmistakable. They crisscrossed his chest and abdomen, each one telling a story of pain and survival. But the worst scars were on his back, where he had been whipped, tortured beyond reason. Marks of cruelty from a past he could never escape.

Gwyn’s eyes were wide, her hand instinctively reaching out, but she hesitated before touching him. “Azriel…” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion, with understanding. “Who did this to you?”

Azriel stared straight ahead, the wind ruffling his dark hair. “My brothers,” he said, his voice hard and cold. “When I was a boy. They locked me in a cell for years... tortured me for their amusement. These scars are a reminder of what I was, of what I’ll never be able to forget.”

He had never spoken of it in such detail, never allowed the words to pass his lips. But with Gwyn, it was different. He wanted her to know. He needed her to see the broken parts of him.

Gwyn’s hand finally touched his arm, the warmth of her skin grounding him, pulling him back from the edge of that dark abyss. “I’m so sorry,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “I didn’t know… I didn’t realize…”

“It’s not your fault,” Azriel said quickly, his shadows curling around his feet, restless. “I don’t tell people because it doesn’t matter. It was a long time ago. I’ve moved on.”

But Gwyn shook her head. “It does matter, Azriel. It matters because it’s part of you. It’s shaped who you are, and that’s not something you should hide. Not from me.”

He looked at her then, really looked at her, and in her teal eyes, he saw no pity. Only understanding, only empathy. It was rare for him to feel like someone truly saw him, beyond the Spymaster, beyond the shadows and the facade he wore. But Gwyn… she saw him.

“You’ve been through so much,” she continued, her voice quiet but firm. “And yet, you’re still here. You’re still fighting. That’s what matters.”

Azriel’s throat tightened, the weight of her words settling over him like a balm. “It’s not just the scars,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s the darkness that comes with them. The things I’ve done… the blood on my hands. I’ve spent so long trying to make up for it, trying to be something better, but...”

Gwyn’s hand slid from his arm to his chest, resting lightly over his heart. “You are better,” she said softly. “You’re more than your past, more than your scars. You’re kind, Azriel. You care about people—about me. That’s what makes you different. You don’t have to hide who you are from me.”

Her words pierced something deep inside him, a part of him he had kept locked away for so long. He closed his eyes, the cool mountain air brushing against his skin, mingling with the warmth of Gwyn’s touch. For the first time in a long time, he allowed himself to believe that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as broken as he thought.

When he opened his eyes, Gwyn was still looking at him, her expression gentle, her hand still resting on his chest.

“Thank you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion he hadn’t realized he was holding back.

Gwyn smiled softly. “You don’t have to thank me. Just… let me in. Let me be here for you.”

Azriel nodded, his hand reaching up to cover hers, his thumb brushing against her skin. He wasn’t sure how to let someone in after so many years of keeping everyone at arm’s length, but with Gwyn… it felt possible. For the first time, it felt like something he could do.

As the last of the sun disappeared below the horizon, casting the sky into twilight, Azriel felt a small sense of peace settle over him. His scars would never fade, and the darkness would always be a part of him, but with Gwyn beside him, he didn’t feel so lost in it.

And for tonight, that was enough.

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇End⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　

[brutalfantasytarot]

Pick A Card Tarot Reading: What Your Soul Needs for Self-Care 🩵

study the images. which one are you drawn to most?

[left to right]

etsy.com/shop/brutalfantasy - for personal readings 🤍

etsy.com/shop/brutalfantasy - for personal readings 🤍

etsy.com/shop/brutalfantasy - for personal readings 🤍

PILE ONE: four of wands, seven of pentacles 💕

"what if i fall?"

"oh darling, what if you fly?"

you work too much. i see that even if you don't realize it, it's because you're trying to distract yourself from realizing you're lonely. you do want a lover, but you are in denial of that fact. you do want to live with someone. you do want to spend the holidays with someone. but you refuse to admit that to yourself and anyone else. pour yourself a glass of wine. sit alone in your apartment. light a candle. get real with yourself. pull out a paper and pen. and just write. write down all of the feelings you try to pretend aren't there. yes, it's okay to cry too. want to know a secret? the reason why you aren't seeing the results from your efforts at work is because you're stifling your true needs. go on some dates. take them seriously. be vulnerable. it's okay to be share your feelings with those who have proved they can be trusted. having all these walls up doesn't do you any good. you think it's protecting you but it's just making you lonely and feel so freaking isolated. there are good people in this world. choose them. ✨🦋

PILE TWO: the devil

"chaos makes the muse"

what kind of life do you actually want to live? I'm not sure you're doing that. i see that you're looking around at other people and listening to those around you and that has you wearing clothes that aren't your style. it has you convincing yourself that this is what you should be doing when in fact, it isn't. you can admire what someone else is doing while also knowingthat you aren't supposed to follow that same path. you are here to be an artist. get those tattoos. get those piercings. wear the leather skirt. put on the metal choker. dye your hair purple. you aren't here to be what you see around you. you are here to be different. release the chains of other people's view of you and embark on your journey of true self-expression. you were raised in a family that has you feeling so trapped and stuck. you were constantly criticized. well, enough is enough. a little bit of chaos is perfect for the soul. especially yours 🌟💘

[therealestsophia]

Jealousy Hidden Behind Masksִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ

hiya🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ this is my first tumblr post— this is also posted on ao3. howeveerrr I am aware Ghost and König are not in the same team ive been playing this game since I was younger, so think of it as an au or something idrk

────────୨ৎ────────

Last week you and your team were sent on a mission in Mexico trying to find some cartel in Guadalajara. However one of the new sergeants put herself in mind boggling danger. She stood tall at an open fire, trying to take the bullets for everyone else so they could have a chance to

live.

Everyone was screaming at her to get down, to save herself. But she didn’t want to listen, if she was gonna go down…She would be remembered for how she did it

For the few right reasons,

and for all the wrong.

You not wanting this bright eyed sergeant to lose her life from one dumb heroic decision, you took it upon yourself to tackle her to the ground. However in the midst of tackling her you got shot in the abdomen an exceptional amount of times. Due to you and the sergeant being severely injured the team couldn't move forward without abandoning you both, and to Ghost, that wasn't an option.

❤️🔥

“Are you stupid [name]?” his fists landed on his desk, causing the glass of water atop it to shake slightly. His voice may have been calm with a sharp edge to it, but he couldn't stop his actions. You were trying your absolute hardest to choke down your tears, you couldn't cry in front of your Lieutenant like a scared little girl who just lost her parents in the store.

“Huh? Are you?” he quipped. His icy blue gaze narrows on your small frame sitting on the chair in front of his desk.

“Ghost-” my voice shook as I tried to keep myself together, slowly meeting his piercing gaze.

“Don’t ‘Ghost’ me.” he hissed, cutting your trembling voice off. But somehow, Ghost cutting you off only fueled the fire that was slowly building inside of you. You looked down at your balled hands sitting in your lap, slightly picking at your nails to try and calm yourself down.

Even if you could see his face, you already could imagine what it looked like. His blonde eyebrows furrowing in frustration, his lips pressed thin in a firm line of anger. You could understand his anger to a degree, but was this really necessary? You’re sitting here living after all, injured but alive.

He took in a heavy sigh of anger, “You deliberately went against orders, and almost got yourself killed.” he growled, there he was again. Referencing the stupid wounds that litter your abdomen due to your stupid, heroic decision. His lips drawn back in a snarl as he looked at your body, studying your body language to try and guess your next move.

“Ghost, why do you even care so much?!” you finally snapped at him, which in turn caught him by surprise with your sudden outburst. Your eyes burning with frustration that had finally boiled over. Slightly shifting in your seat while never breaking eye contact, wincing at shooting pain coming from your ribs, the pain you’ve been so desperately trying to ignore. The exact pain he was referencing throughout this entire argument.

He paused for a second, debating his words. “Because I care about you.” he said flatly, the anger in his voice was slightly gone but it was still there lingering. “Don’t you get it? Do you need me to spell it out for you to even reach your thick skull?” he sneered. There's the anger that was lingering in his tone. His eyes never left yours, it was becoming a battle to see who would break eye contact first, and it wasn't going to be you.

His hands were pressed firm on the desk, standing over you like some kind of hierarchy. You sat there, your eyes staring into his while you sat there like some child getting scolded by a teacher.

“I don’t need to get it.” you muttered under your breath, annoyance clear in your tone. “I never asked for you to care,” you paused, inhaling a sharp breath while standing up to push in your chair. “Nor anyone else, so don't make it my problem.” you hissed through your teeth as you reached his office door, whipping around to open it. Maybe you were the one to break eye contact, but at this point you couldn’t take it anymore.

God if you wanted a lecture you could have gone to Price.

Ghost just stood there, a blank expression on his face that was carefully covered by his balaclava, though his eyes read a thousand words. You opened the door and slammed it shut, walking away from his office briskly, you reflected on your choice of words. They were harsh, no sugar coating that, but they were true. Right?

But this time he didn't try to call you back, demanding you come back to speak to him. He just stood there in his office, contemplating everything.

You walked back to the barracks quietly, not bothering to say hello to anyone you passed. You walked for what felt like forever, being trapped in your own thoughts made it worse.

Once you finally reached your room you opened your door quickly and slammed it shut. All your prior frustrations came back as soon as you stepped in the room. Your eyes pricked with tears as you stood there silently, a lump in your throat formed and it was impossible to choke down. You kicked off your boots and made your way to your bed, as you flopped down on the soft mattress you couldn't hold back your tears.

The tears fell smoothly down your flushed cheeks, your body curling up in a ball as you drowned yourself in blankets. Your quiet sobs filled the room, and it didn't even matter that you still had your uniform on, you didn't care anymore. Your abdomen was throbbing, the pain making your tears fall harder than they were before. His words flooded your thoughts, ‘Because I care about you.’ kept replaying over and over again.

Why did he have to care? That made this so much more worse than it had to be.

The sobs eventually got quieter and quieter, god. Why did I have to be such a crybaby? So- sensitive. His words felt like thousands of sharp knives cutting through you. It was awful, it hurt so much.  Your eyes began to flutter slightly as you continued to cry, all you could do was cry and ponder on your decisions.

❤️🔥 pov change.

My eyes slowly blinked open as I woke up to a pounding headache. Damn it. I glanced at the clock as I sat up. It read 17:38, I sighed and closed my eyes leaning my back on my headboard. I rubbed my puffy eyes and crawled out of bed, throwing my blankets off of me. I stumbled to my feet, grabbing my night stand to balance myself.

Finally steadying myself I walked into my bathroom just to look at what I looked like. Oh my god…my tear streaked face was a sight to see you could say. I turned the light on before turning the sink to cold and started to splash my face with freezing water, hoping it would clear my post-cry face.

Turning off my sink and grabbing a towel I turned to pat my face dry, good enough.

I looked at my puffy eyes in the mirror with a huff before walking out of my bathroom and turning off the light. I walked slowly towards my door, slipping on my boots and walking out of my room.

Roaming the halls it was quiet, nothing was really happening. It wasn’t a busy day today, the halls holding an uncomfortable silence as I walked through them.

The sounds of my boots lightly treading across cold tile floor filled my ears.

Continuing to walk towards the mess hall I saw Ghosts office to my right, the office that hours earlier I stormed out of. I shook my head with a sigh and continued to walk towards the mess hall. Though the halls were oddly quiet, it was unsettling to say the least.

Reaching the mess hall I realized it wasn't as  crowded as it usually was. I didn’t have an appetite so I decided to just sit down at one of the empty tables and lay my head down, just listening to the talking and bickering of the place was comforting.

That's when I heard a familiar voice behind me, his presence was strong but his accent was even stronger.

“Schatz?” the man asked, his Austrian accent strong.

“König?” I asked and glanced up to see the tall Austrian man standing behind me, looming over me like a giant building.

He sat next to me, he clearly saw the somber expression written all over my face. He sat close, but not that close. The chatter in the mess hall was a comforting ambiance to this situation.

He gently lifted a finger to my trembling chin with his rough index finger, forcing me to stare into his pale blue eyes.

“Ist etwas passiert?” he asked softly, his tone quiet but still audible from the noise around us. (Did something happen?)

“No…” I whispered lower than he could hear, my voice slightly shaking as I tried to keep myself together.

I quickly hung my head low, breaking eye contact with him. My bottom lip was trembling as I tried to choke back my own tears, I didn't want to worry him, especially with all the stuff he's dealing with on his own.

“Oh, komm her.” he coaxed, pulling me into a bear hug. Trapping me in his warm embrace, playing with my hair in an attempt to calm me down. (Oh, come here.)

I lost it, I started bawling into his chest. Clinging onto his shirt in a desperate attempt to make sure he wouldn't leave me.

“Ghost and I had a fight-” I managed to choke out.

Ghost, the name alone made Konig tense up. I felt him squeeze me tighter in his arms when I said his name.

The name rang in his ears, his head racing with thoughts of him and you together as he gently stroked your hair.

Why can't you just realize that I can be so much better than him? Konig thought quietly.

Everytime Konig saw you with Ghost, it felt like you took his heart so gingerly, so sparingly…only to stomp on it afterwards. Or whispering sweet nothings into his ear but plunging the knife in his heart, over, and over again.

“He wont talk to me-” your trembling voice broke him free from the prison someone called thoughts. “and I'm worried I really messed up big time…” I sobbed even harder into his chest, it felt like I was dying.

Dramatic much. Though my chest heaving, I was hyperventilating.

“Shhh…” he soothed, rubbing my lower back gently. Konig gritted his teeth and bit his tongue, he didn't want to upset you more than you already were. He didn’t want to add his name to the list of reasons.

He just sat there rubbing your back, just being a shoulder to cry on. My fingers clung to his shirt, like he was a balloon and I was trying so hard to keep him on the ground with me.

“I know it hurts, but everything will be fine.” he reassured, his voice soft but still stern enough to make you listen to him. He spoke of things he knew nothing about, having no prior knowledge was hard but he was trying his best.

Him calming me down was oddly comforting, his warm embrace made my heart flutter slightly. “Just calm down, it’ll be fine, I promise.” he calmed me further, his accent coming back stronger.

He held me tight, holding me like I was the most precious gem in the world and he would do anything to keep it in his possession.

How could he promise something he knew nothing about?

How could someone make such an empty promise?

I finally pulled away from him, my tear streaked face and glassy eyes looking up at him with a pained expression.

My breath was still labored, my bottom lip wobbling as I tried to keep myself steady.

“I know it hurts, but give him time,” he paused to take a sharp inhale. “You guys always work it out.” Konig mumbled through gritted teeth, his personal vendetta with Ghost was getting the better of him.

He wanted to say so much more, how Ghost didn't deserve you, how you shouldn't cry over someone like him. But he didn't, he kept his mouth shut because your comfort was his top priority.

It hurt him so much to see you in pain, to see you cry over Ghost was, who quite frankly, could go jump out of a helicopter and he’d be fine with it.

I was pulled from my thoughts as I glanced around the room. Out of my periphery I saw Ghost, leaning on the mess hall door watching me. Wait no…

Watching Konig?

His eyes looked like they were burning with irritation, though they had a hint of…

Jealousy?

His gaze narrowed on Konig who was looking at me with pitiful eyes, who looked at me like he wanted to say something more but didn't.

My head slowly rose to look up at Konig. My eyes were glassy as I looked up at him slowly, my lashes fluttering. He kept his hands on my waist, just looking down at me. That's when I realized Konig wasn't looking at me anymore, his eyes were focused on Ghost.

“I’m sorry…” I whispered, though I wasn't sure if he could hear me over the chattering in the mess hall.

That's right, I forgot that's where we were. It felt like everyone else was invisible when I saw Ghost, like I could only catch his gaze and that was it.

“Warum guckt er sie so an?!” König muttered beneath his mask. I looked up at König again, my head slightly cocking to the side at his comment. (Why does he look at her like that?!)

“Huh?” I asked quietly, my hands balled in front of me.

“Nothing.” he mumbled, his eyes quickly going back to mine. I glanced slowly back at the door, trying to see Ghost once more.

But he was gone, the tall Brit that stood there, watching, was now gone.

All I could see was the people chattering, not even noticing me and König, thank god.

“Im so sor-“ I started quickly before König cut me off.

“Don’t be sorry, its not your fault hes-“ König stopped himself from saying anything more. I gave König a slightly puzzled look when he abruptly stopped talking.

“Just don’t be sorry.” he restated, not bothering to add the extra words he was about to say.

Oh.

I just sat there on the bench, pondering in my own thoughts, pondering on what he was going to say. However thats when König stood up from the bench, no longer feeling his large hands on my waist.

“I have to go, schatz. But please, please, don’t be sorry, everything will be okay.” he assured as he rubbed my shoulder slightly, his accent dripping off of his words.

His words were sweet, so sweet. Almost like poison, leaving me slowly wanting more of his comfort, more of his touch.

I gave him a curt nod as I looked up at him, wiping my face with my sleeve while I watched König walk away.

I felt so alone all over again, my red puffy eyes returning like a bad hangover.

Another cold water splash for me.

I pulled myself from my thoughts, I needed to leave, I just needed to get out.

I started to force myself up from the bench, lowering my head to not let anyone see my tear stained face, and red puffy eyes. I began to walk briskly out of the mess hall, not bothering to to looking behind me as I reached the door.

For some odd reason when I reached the door my eyes wandered. I looked left and right, high and low, just to see if he was there.

If Ghost was there.

I shook my head and started walking quickly, the chattering and bickering slowly fading as I quietly walked out of the the mess hall, returning back to the uncomfortably quiet halls.

Finally returning back to the empty barracks I grabbed the cold door handle and swung open the door. Only to have warm air hit me as soon as it opened.

Great.

I walked over to the bathroom, reaching my hand up to the light switch. The yellow toned flickering light flooding the bathroom.

I sighed when I saw my face. Looking up to see my eyes were bloodshot, my under eyes no longer purple, they were red and puffy.

Just what I need.

I scoffed at my own thoughts before turning the sink on, letting the water run to a freezing temperature before finally lowering my head to splash my face with the water.

It felt like a sense of relief as the first drop hit my face, almost feeling like someone was running an ice cube across my face.

I continued to let the water hit me. My face gradually becoming warm because of the cold.

Though it gave me time to think, should I apologize to him?

Him was Ghost, I just couldn’t get him out of my head. The way he stared at me and König in the mess hall lingered in my mind like König’s cologne hitting my nose.

Wait- why am I even thinking about both of them?

I turned off the water and groaned. Wiping the droplets away from my eyes as I looked in the mirror once again. This time there was no redness,

well maybe except my nose that was cold now.

I grabbed a towel and roughly dried my face, before tossing the towel on my sink as I flicked off the light.

Leaning down I unzipped my boots,slipping them off I stood on the hot hardwood floor before I slumped on my bed. Letting all my worries slip slightly as I hit the hard mattress, the springs beneath me rattling slightly.

Why do I feel like this?

What am I feeling towards both of them-

What is even happening?

I laid on my bed, my feet slightly above the ground as I contemplated everything. I wanted to work things out between me and Ghost, but the look in his eyes when he saw me with König.

Not to mention König gripping me tighter when he saw Ghost.

The AC turning on erased my thoughts,

Finally, it’s hotter than the pits of hell in here.

My own thoughts were driving me crazy, I couldn’t stand to be alone with them anymore.

I guess thats it? I apologize and all of this stops?

I groaned getting up off my bed, my feet hitting the cold ground. No thick pair of socks can save you once the AC turns on.

I hobbled over to my boots, zipping them up quickly trying to get my poor feet off the cold hardwood.

Stumbling over my own feet I finally reached my door, carefully opening it, unlike how I swung it open 10 minutes ago.

The warm air of the halls hit me as I walked into them, slowly closing my door behind me.

Creeeeeek.

Was all I heard as my door closed. Cringing at the noise I started my journey to Ghosts office.

Roaming the halls it still held the same uncomfortable silence, odd.

My boots clicked and clacked as I ventured closer and closer to his office, my veins starting to pump with adrenaline as I drew closer.

My stomach churned with unease,

what would I say?

I didn’t even rehearse this!

Though my body had a mind of its own. As I drowned in my thoughts I finally realized I was standing in front of Ghosts office.

Good lord help me.

I was knocking on his door before I could even second guess myself.

Knock,

Knock,

Kno-

My first was still in the air when Ghost cracked the door open slightly, peering out to see who was knocking.

His eyes held an irritated gaze when he opened the door after realizing it was me. When his door opened enough to where I could see him fully, the smell of cigarettes and cologne wafted in my nose.

“Do you need something?” he grumbled, his brown eyes piercing through me.

“I uhm-“ I stammered, forget what I said earlier, I should have never came here.

“Cat got your tongue?” his eyes narrowed while his brows furrowed in annoyance, he was obviously not happy.

I let out a quick sigh as I fidgeted with my nails behind my back, “M’sor-“ I started quietly as he cut me off.

What is with them and cutting people off?

“Why.” he stated, nothing more, nothing less. His eyes holding no emotion to go off of anymore.

“Why?” I questioned as I stood outside of his doorway, my facial expression painted with confusion.

“Why?” he scoffed a pause, “Why were his hands all over you?” his voice was gruff when he spoke to me, his bulky figure leaning on the door frame.

I stared back at Ghost who was staring at me dead in the face. My eyes widened with surprise at his words, even his tone.

“What, do I have to elaborate for you?” he growled, his voice becoming rougher as his eyes bored into my soul.

“I- What?” I stumbled over my words, desperately trying to find the ones that were stuck in my throat. I stared blankly at him, my nails stinging from my consistent picking. Unease coursing through my frozen body.

He let out an exaggerated sigh before grabbing my wrist and pulling me into his office, slamming the door on my way in.

I let out a quiet yelp as he grabbed my wrist and dragged me into his office, the slamming door making my body jolt.

He spun me around, my back facing his desk as be grabbed my hips roughly.

“Ghost-“ My face flushed a pretty shade of pink, an unwanted shade of pink, right?

“Ghost get off of me!” I demanded as I pushed his hands off of me, stumbling as I tripped backwards into his desk.

What was he doing?

He looked at me with hungry eyes, jealousy and hunger. Though his eyes flashed with a hint of surprise as I pushed him back.

He didn’t say anything, both of us just stood there in an uncomfortable silence. His muscles tensing slightly when I pulled away.

“What the hell- Why would you put your hands on me?” I broke the silence, my eyes flashing with confusion- irritation even. I was so lost and confused.

“And why would you let him touch you like that?!” he countered, his husky voice getting lower as he took small steps towards me.

My blood ran cold as he started to walk towards me, I felt helpless as his eyes flashed with an unsettling look.

“I-“ my voice was caught in my throat, a lump was there was was impossible to choke down.

“Why does it matter to you?” I finally choked out. But that was probably the worst choice of words I could have picked.

‘Because I care about you.’

His words rang in my head, practically running circles.

Though a shadowy figure broke me from my thoughts when I realized he was standing directly in front of me, his bulky figure looming over mine.

His palms rested on the cool wooden desk my back laid against.

“What are you-“ my words got lost as he cupped my chin harshly forcing me look up at him.

My body shuddered, I stayed frozen. My mouth hung open, desperately trying to say words that fell on deaf ears.

I couldn’t speak, I physically couldn’t, my words hung in the air like a sheet swaying in the wind on a clothes line.

“Why would you let him touch you, [name].” his voice was low and husky. It didn’t even sound like a question anymore, it felt like a command.

Like he was commanding me to stay helpless beneath him, commanding me to answer his ‘questions’.

More like demands.

“Thats none of your business Ghost- Get off of me!” I shouted, my voice trembling slightly as I tried to use my palms to push him back,

but to no avail.

He was anticipating this, Ghost stood tall like a brick wall in front of me. Keeping my cheeks in his rough gloved hand.

I was stuck.

lmk if yall want a pt 2 cuz this is over a year old😭😭 maybe ill have motivation

[shydroid3000]

On the subject of Light Yagami, Misa Amane, and guilt (guilt as in culpability and guilt as in the internal experience of feeling guilty): [Rambled about this as part of a response to an ask game but decided I'd pop it into its own post too 'cause I ended up writing a lot on the topic lol]

The question was: was misa just as guilty as light? Ooh, guilt in relation to Misa and Light is interesting to think about. On the one hand, I do think that they're both culpable for their actions at the end of the day. I have maybe some more grace to extend Misa in terms of her having an understandable reason to go down that path, what with her parents being murdered (and almost being murdered herself). Like, that's a level of trauma that makes you go, 'yeah, I can understand why she was all-in on killing criminals with the death note, even if I don't agree.' Light, on the other hand, had this good, stable, pretty privileged home life, in addition to him being a top student, talented, handsome, etc. He's got less of an excuse, you know? The fact that Misa's drawn to Kira's ideals out of lived trauma, whereas Light is drawn to those ideals largely out of ego is sort of a meaningful distinction. (By ego I don't just mean the belief that he's exceptional, but I mean -- the way he is so desperately driven to protect his conception of himself as a Good Person. That's a tragic and heart-rending manifestation of ego, but it's still about protecting his ego). But I also think there's 'guilt' on the level of the actions and choices you make regardless of motivations, and I'd see them as more equal on that front. Misa was an enthusiastic DN user and participant in Kira's plans/ideology. She's motivated by different things than he is, but she makes her choices knowingly. I think it would be diminishing of her agency and complexity to say that she's less responsible for her actions than Light is, if that makes sense. (Also, there are things Misa is guilty of that Light isn't, and vice versa. E.g., Misa pushes Light's boundaries in a way that can be very uncomfortable; Light uses Misa/others without real regard for them).

Now, beyond all that... the question is obviously about their culpability for their use of the DN. But it also makes me think about each of their *experiences* of guilt internally, and that might be even more interesting to me. I think that their relationship to guilt is one of the things that makes them so divergent from one another. Because... running away from guilt is such a huge part of what propels Light to go all out with the Kira thing. So much of his psyche is shaped around that black pit of guilt where whispers of "I did a bad thing. If I did a bad thing I'm not a good person" come from. He diligently tries to cover over that and barricade it off. He crafts an ideology that makes his murders righteous, and commits to making a New World(tm) where the meaning of 'good/right' is reshaped around that. He makes himself a God so that his actions are beyond judgment, or at least he is, because his murders are divine - they're acts of creation, even of love and self-sacrifice. And then Misa... well, guilt doesn't seem to be as obvious a factor for her, whether as motivation or reaction. I mean, I could imagine a reading where there's some well of underlying guilt about the death of her parents and her survival -- I think that would make sense given the circumstances. But... we never actually see that kind of Bruce Wayne -esque psychology peeking through, so that feels more like headcanon territory than direct analysis. Obviously she has deep feelings about the murder of her parents, but she has a very different relationship to guilt than Light. She usually comes across as very free from guilt. She knows what she wants and what her priorities are, and she pursues those without shame. She's impressed by Kira so she becomes the second Kira; she decides she loves Light and wants to be with him regardless of whether he even likes her, so she pursues that undeterred by his response to her. It feels like Misa is always calmly pushing forward toward what she wants, whereas Light's sprint forward toward his New World is really a running-away-from. But at the same time... what kind of underlying emptiness would make someone so completely devotional in the way Misa is, wanting to devote themselves to someone who mostly loathes them, to the point of not even seeming to be hurt by that person's disdain for them as long as they can still have that person in their life? I think there's definitely beneath-the-surface stuff with Misa, but it comes across like guilt is a colour that just doesn't exist in her world. Whereas with Light, every shadow in his world is the colour of guilt. If goodness or righteousness are the rays of the sun, Light Yagami is the moon that reflects the sunlight while trying to create a reality in which those rays are his -- are him -- a reality in which he becomes the sun. And yet he's a moon, and the dark side of it that he disavows is guilt, is 'I did a bad thing', is 'what if I'm not a good boy?' (Wow, went overboard with the metaphors there but too lazy to edit lol).

[keepmycandleburning]

here's the link if anyone would like to read it

there are some blocks going on, so here's a summary of why Voldemort & Bellatrix didn't have any romantic/sexual involvement:

-Voldemort doesn't tear up looking at Bellatrix's body, or act emotionally (after the scream). It was a strategic loss because at that point he'd lost everything.

-Nothing points to romance in the Ministry rescue. Revealing himself to save her was not much of a loss at that point.

-Voldemort never calls Bellatrix any pet names like Darling, Dear, Sweetheart, or My Love. The nickname Bella sounds more like something casual used among friends or family.

-Bellatrix repeatedly captures Harry's attention because she's relevant to Harry and to the plot, not because Voldemort's soul is drawn to her.

-The cup horcrux doesn't point to romance because Lucius also had a horcrux, and Rodolphus and Rabastan also had access to the cup.

-Voldemort also likes other people, like Snape, Barty, and Nagini.

-The Cursed Child isn't canon 'to me,' and it's writers probably didn't even read Harry Potter before writing it.

-The 'no higher pleasure' exchange was just Voldemort setting up a fake compliment because he's mean. Also, Aberforth never did anything inappropriate with a goat, and Ginny never sucked Harry's dick. We're not supposed to draw any sexual conclusions from the books.

-Voldemort & Bellatrix never call each other anything romantic.

-Voldemort & Bellatrix never hold hands, caress each other, embrace or kiss.

-Voldemort dislikes when she talks to him “as if to a lover” and refuses to let her take his hand.

-Voldemort tortures and physically punishes Bellatrix.

-Bellatrix is afraid that Voldemort will kill her and her family (“we shall all perish if [he] comes now”), and Voldemort considers killing her (“They would suffer his retribution if they had no good reason for calling him back”)

-'Various quotes such as “longing for closeness”, “staring with worshipful fascination”, “breathless and imploring” etc. They all suggest that there’s something of a barrier between the two. I just don’t see her acting that way if she’s getting d!cked down by the object of her affections, presumably on what would be a rather regular basis, behind the scenes.'

-'Rowling, until she sold out by stamping her approval on the Cursed Child (which, like others, I don’t even think she read before she did so), never suggested in interviews or elsewhere that the relationship was anything other than one-sided.'

-Rowling never mentions Voldemort reciprocating Bellatrix's feelings.

-Voldemort & Bellatrix having a relationship is never alluded to by any other characters, even Narcissa who would probably bring it up during conflict to annoy Bellatrix.

IDK if this little section of the internet is just uncharacteristically hateful and negative and miserable lately or what. I've been lurking for like a year and posting since like 2 months ago, and it seems recent. I don't really feel like inserting myself into it anymore because it's not fun.

I loved HP as a kid probably like 9-12 y/o, at which time I picked up on something between Bellatrix & Voldemort due to the be quiet, Bella and the no higher pleasure lines. I reread the series for the first time as at adult in Oct-Nov 2023, and I was astonished at how much more I am able to pull from this text now. I came away with a much greater understanding of several things I'd missed as a kid. One of these is that it was very clear to me that Bellatrix & Voldemort were written to be at least sleeping together. VERY CLEAR. It was AFTER this point that I started being part of the fandom, and way after that I've seen people claiming their relationship ISN'T in the books. To me, this is really surprising, because when I've read the books as an adult, it's quite clear. Once I got into the fandom, I found that there are a huge number of people that agree with this interpretation of the text and find is equally obvious as I do.

However, despite the fact that I've seen a number of claims that they DON'T have any relationship in the books, I don't see people using text evidence to support this interpretation. In my personal opinion, this is probably because this is a very difficult argument to make based on the text. But if you think it can be done, instead of submitting negative anon messages without any text support, why don't you write a meta? If anyone would like to make a post going through all of the things people say are text evidence for Bellatrix/Voldemort and explaining why they're not the case, I would gladly read that out of genuine interest. Or, simply going through all the excerpts on their interpersonal relationship and explaining based on the text what sort of relationship you think they DO have.

I have seen countless people over the years analyze sections of text, lines between different characters, their attitudes toward each other, their various actions, and so on, and explain why this adds up to Bellatrix & Voldemort having some sort of relationship. I have NEVER yet seen someone who DOESN'T believe they had a relationship write a text analysis of their opinion. So I sincerely invite you to go through all the bits of text that Bellamort shippers say are canon evidence and explain why they're not—in individual instances and in total. Explain why = not just 'this is my alternative interpretation without text analysis' but *how you justify this being the case based on the text*. How do you justify ignoring how countless bits of the text can be interpreted all in this one way (Bellamort) and instead interpreting them all different ways? How do you explain what JKR was intending to say about Bellatrix & Voldemort's interpersonal relationship considering all their interactions both on- & off-page? WHY are they written the way they are if they don't have an intimate relationship? Or if you believe they're not written that way, again how can you justify this based on the text? If you need a list of text moments and existing 'Bellamort is canon' metas I can compile one.

I'm curious to see what you come up with, because I've never once seen this done—and because, as I've said, it's not an opinion that I personally believe to be supported by the text. If you can explain why it is supported by the text please do that and I'll consume it in good faith.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Tis but a flesh wound!

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[cursezoroark]

chapter 1! (and partially chapter 2?)

(First picture is a redraw from chapter 2's visual piece which is drawn by zumi honnojis! will be below Read More!)

[weaponsdrawn]

HI i just remembered to respond to this FUCK ok so

I MASSIVELY AGREE with the binjpipe takes. i think ETS was good/iconic if only because it was so like. JARRING in a good way. but it was so lighting in a bottle tbh, and like u said it isnt rlly good horror. only rlly shocking if ur actually attached to cookie, which ppl are. cookie gets replaced by an AI tried to be ETS all over again, and it wasnt, and it kinda rlly showed, like you said, how they shine best with comedy. also I FULLY AGREE. fuck, im pretty sure its one of the reasons ive just grown tired of jackbox by now, both me and my gf (we met thru shared jackbox love), its bc every time binjpipe happened we were just like "THIS SHIT AGAIN?????" like it just made any sort of investment in it or hopes of cookie getting better just. feel so fucking moot. why bother getting invested if its just constantly going to get dragged back up. the "evil streaming service" joke is dead. its BEYOND dead. we havent even heard of the binjlady anymore. its lost any sort of omnious buildup. to me binjpipe's appeal was that it clearly wasnt going to last long. it was a nightmare that was just going to keep on ramping up until it crashed and burned horrendously, and fuck thats SO cool to consider and write about. but they keep dragging it out, and now its just sad. its boring. fucking. selling adult films?? give me a break.

ok about the party packs, HONESTLY SAME. like idk the writing is what really gets me about it tbh. i guess theyre good party games (tho i can get bored really fast, save for roomerang, and even so thats mostly bc of the goofyness of the responses), but YEAH youre so right. like idk if its because theyre ALSO doing the international translations but ithink it goes with the fact that the hosts severely lack character. when its like for some games, its ok if they dont have character (quixort), but its like that means theres A BALANCE. pack 8, ok? games like job job and weapons drawn, that CALLS for the hosts having character because its putting you in a situation WHERE the host is an active part of that situation. its like "wow im really in funny office" or "wow im really doing a murder!!!" right now, yknow? Push the Button, DODE was her own character and had noteworthy quips and she was a vital part of the games story/framing device! todd is iconic bc hes such a chill internet guy and then he sends you to hell! felicia is all morbidly romantic bc youre on a MONSTER DATING SHOW. a lot of the games stand out BECAUSE of the unique situations ur in that envoke unique prompts/unique gameplay, meanwhile something like fixytext? i dont know SHIT about the host. and its kind of a shame that the cannon jackbox lesbian host we have is SO FUCKING BORING GOD. most i can get is that shes introverted, but i gen cant tell if its genuine, if its some kind of "akward bacon unicorn moment! #millenial" type shit, what the fuck even really IS Fixytext at the end of the day. what makes it more than google docs shitposting simulator. its such a fucking shame, esp for the TENTH PACK. like god maybe they rlly do need to take a hiatus bc the change in. writing quality is. idk it just didnt help my dropping fixtation i'll say that.

also wait FR????? JESUS CHRIST thats actually a shame, i wanted to try and play that game!!! (namely bc funny objectum) and like. the ONE naughty pack exclusive host and we get NOTHING about her. i dont even like the fucking conch shell design im sorry. jackbox crew yall are great but how in this green unholy earth do you expect ppl to draw and remember your designs when your hosts are so. flat. fuck, mayonnaise, fucking M BUBZ, is more memorable than nickolas kranrker whatever and dr nanners and jerri, i cant tell you a SINGLE thing about jerri tbh. its such a shame. i want to love these guys i really do but theres nothing that endears them to me.

tbh if they end up not doing anything for ydkj it'll be funny in a kinda sad way tbh. on the one hand it'd BE nice on the other hand yeah its been nothing since full stream, eh. could they even do a YDKJ anymore? i remember once upon a time there was all this hype/discussion of a "ride 2" where the only real roadblock was that buzz's VA has well moved on from voice acting i think, but ppl had ideas for giving him a new voice, maybe even making it a transgender reason, all this stuff. this was like a couple of years back. but its like god i'd be shocked if they even remember guy exists at this point. or nate. hes sorta got a chance given his VA is literally a core part of the crew.

also i getcha. glad i could offer a space to let ya vent like that lawl

roomerang completely fucking fumbled with giving rue any sort of character we could've had a fun host we could've had that snark we could've had ANYTHING to match the sheer amount of swag in her design but we got BASICALLY NOTHING/very vague hints of character ("I'm beside myself... and I look good!" And "dramaaaa!!! :3") which is CRUMBS compared to even the most one note hosts like glargan o'toe or civic doodle's hosts and as petty as it sounds it's kinda the reason I fell out of love with current jackbox </3

.

[anominous-user]

full versions of my de-sticked/hsr'ed version of triple threat

types + paths

[kaiserouo]

(thinking about titan)

[penn-dragon]

Kyoko still regularly visits the Corn clearing because it's her happy place, and early into the production Ren goes to visit the spot for nostalgia and happy memories. They run into each other there and Ren immediately realizes who she is

[skunkes]

blood test tomorrow and i dont think theyll let someone in with me so nobody's going to hold me down, making me feel Calm and also preventing me from escaping. smile.

[skitskatdacat63]

Prev reblog, imagine if they all fought for Fernando's love 🥹

Flavio who devoted and then killed his career in service to Fernando, Carlos Sr. who Fernando has looked up to and known for 20+ years, Lawrence who can provide for Fernando with his deep pockets, Adrian who has the potential to build Fernando a winning car

Who will he pick!!!! I vote Carlos Sr 🤭🤭