#and how it just keeps building and the resentment keeps growing or it would if this was real life and a real friendship u know

[bluedillylee]

made myself sad thinking about how much stuff Geralt and Jaskier don’t talk about with each other😭

[ID sketch of Geralt siting on the ground with his back to Jaskier as he looks over his shoulder at Jaskier. They both have melancholy expressions. End ID]

[arolesbianism]

Thinks oh so hard abt raccoon au printing pod doomed yuri.... What if you were a robot in love with your fellow robot but your past human selves had to fuck it all up and murder eachother 🙄

[altruisticalastor]

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Summary: Vox proposed a deal of sorts. Your soul in exchange for keeping you safe. At the time, you didn't feel like you had any choice other than to accept. So, you did. You pawned your freedom over to the man who hated your husband most in this world. What could go wrong?

☒ Warnings: gn!reader, they/them pronouns used, angst! established relationship between reader and alastor, lots of cursing and hard feelings, not a happy ending, vox has a strong attatchment to the reader, one kiss (between alastor and reader), lots of tears

☒ Word Count: 2,158

☒ Part Two Part Three

Ever since the day Alastor disappeared, life has been a living nightmare. Your lover left without a word. Which placed a gigantic target on your back as his spouse. You hoped that Alastor had a solid reason to go without telling you. But more than anything, you wished that wherever he was, he was safe. 

It would be a miracle if trouble didn't find you. But there were no such things as miracles down in hell. 

It didn't take long for Vox to find you. The surveillance cameras spread around the outskirts of hell were undoubtedly against you. You couldn't say you were surprised when being shoved into a van. Leading you directly to Vox Tec Headquarters. 

Vox proposed a deal of sorts. Your soul in exchange for keeping you safe. At the time, you didn't feel like you had any choice other than to accept. So, you did. You pawned your freedom over to the man who hated your husband most in this world. What could go wrong?

Well, your new living situation was difficult to adjust to. The other Vee's were cutthroat and heartless. Trying your hardest to get along with them proved to be useless. They didn't care to know you in the slightest. Not Velvette nor Valentino. However, Vox was an entirely different story. 

The man was uncharacteristically kind to you. Vox set you up with a private room specifically tailored for you. How he knew your favorite soaps and scents was beyond you. You figured it was best if you didn't know how exactly Vox came to know you like the back of his palm.

Vox always held a chipper tone with you. Going as far as disagreeing with the others to defend you when they spoke ill of you. You hardly understood why. What was his motive? A stranger's guess was as good as yours. 

As the years flew by, his kindness only grew. Vox made sure to check up on you at least once a day. He took pride in remembering the little details about you. Going so far as to bring you gifts after his outings, 'Just because.'

As much as you hated to admit it, you began to let your guard down with Vox. You started to accept his kind gestures with a smile on your face. Agreeing to hang out in his office while he worked. It became almost comforting to be in his presence. 

You hated yourself for it. You knew it was wrong. Alastor was your lover. But he also left you without a word, which caused a hint of resentment to grow within your heart. How could he drop you after everything? For a while, you hoped it was for a good reason. But seven years came and went, and not a single word from Alastor.

That was until you overheard a spat between Vox and Val. It was hard not to hear Vox's voice booming through the building. Your heart sunk into your stomach when you heard that your long-lost lover, Alastor, had been lodging up with the Princess of Hell for months now. 

He's been back for months. Months, and he hasn't had any concern to look for you. It stung worse than any other pain you've ever felt in life and death. How dare he discard you like a piece of trash? The resentment only flourished further in your bleeding heart. 

The moment Vox stormed out of Val's room after hearing the bad news, he was met with your teary-eyed countenance. His harsh glare softened the moment he saw your distressed state. In an instant, Vox surrounded your senses. His large palms rubbed your back in a comforting nature as he cooed at you. Vox whispered soft apologies into your hair as he allowed you to sob into his chest.

Your tears of sorrow quickly turned into tears of vexation. You begged Vox to get a car ready for you. You had to go to the Hazbin Hotel immediately. You just had to. It took lots of pleading to get Vox to agree. Your reminder of being on his leash eased his mind somewhat. Alastor may have owned your heart, but that was meaningless now that Vox proclaimed your soul.

The deal was no Vox Tech allowed on your person when you confronted Alastor. Vox grumbled in irritation from your stipulation, but he ultimately caved. It's not like you could flee from him even if you tried. 

Your hands shook as your knuckles came up to bang on the hotel door. Within a matter of seconds, the door flung open. You were greeted by the Princess of Hell herself. She had seemingly mistaken you for a demon who wished to be redeemed. Your frustration grew as she pulled you into the foyer, babbling nonsense. 

That's when a familiar voice rang through the open space. "Holy fuckin' shit. There's no way it's really you." Husk exclaimed before taking another swig of his cheap liquor. You immediately stormed toward the bar, ignoring the pretty fellow sitting on one of the stools. "Husk, where is he." Your voice was low and laced with malice. 

Charlie was so confused as she asked how you two knew each other. As was the spider demon that asked you who you were talking about. That's when you heard it. The familiar radio static crackle, calling your name. Something in your heart ached at the sound of Alastor calling out to you. It once brought you so much joy, but all that was left now was bitterness. 

"Uhh... how the fuck do they know, mister fancy talk creepy voice?" The effeminate fellow whispered over to Husk, who just shrugged him off. Not wanting to get involved in the slightest. You stormed over to Alastor, who stood at the base of the hotel steps. Before your mind could catch up, your body was quick to act. 

Your hand came up to strike across Alastor's face. But to no one's surprise, he caught your wrist before your palm collided with his cheek. "Careful now, my dear! That's no way to greet your husband after all this time!" An audible gasp filled the room. You heard the little whispers from behind you. But all you could focus on was the rage that bubbled up inside you. 

"You fucking asshole! How could you disappear without a word?" Your other hand balled into a fist before slamming against his sturdy chest. A small grunt escaped your husband from the harsh contact, but his crimson gaze never left yours. He slowly released your wrist, allowing you to beat your frustrations out on his chest until the adrenaline wore off. Quickly, that anger morphed into complete and utter sadness. 

Your balled-up fists shook as your body slumped forward. Your head sunk down, forehead colliding with Alastor's shoulder. "I waited for you, I..." A sharp sob wracked through your body. Your vision blurred as the tears spilled freely. Everything else melted away in that moment for you. The years of loneliness, anguish, and bitterness all came crashing over you at once. 

"Why don't we take this conversation elsewhere, my dear." Before you knew it, Alastor's shadows enveloped you. The scenery changed right before your eyes. Now, you were greeted by a large hotel room. Half of the space was overtaken by a beautiful woodland. The sound of the crickets chirping flooded your head. 

"I deserve an explanation, Al." You spoke through gritted teeth. Hastily wiping your tears. Alastor let out a deep sigh as he turned to face you. His signature smile wavered slightly as his eyes averted from yours. "It's rather complicated, my darling." He muttered, approaching you cautiously. 

Your eyebrows knit in frustration as you scoffed. "Really? That's your sorry excuse? You left me for dead. The least you could do was send a fucking postcard." You chuckled bitterly, crossing your arms. Alastor stepped closer, large palms grasping your shoulders. "I did not have a choice! Do you truly believe I haven't thought of you every second of every day since we last saw one another?" 

Alastor's voice was rigid as he met you at eye level. His look was pleading as he continued on. "I'm bound by my constraints. Even if I wanted to tell you, I couldn't! I still can't!" His radio static fizzled out toward the end of his sentence. The look of stress spread across his face sent a pang of pain in your heart. 

You couldn't help but soften. You knew Alastor was being genuine, and it killed you to know something terrible had happened to him. Your shaky hands rose to your husband's cheeks as tears brimmed at your lash line. "Oh, my love... I should have had more faith, but-" The blood in your veins ran cold as you cut yourself off. The recollection of selling your soul to Vox suddenly flashed through your mind.

Alastor knew something was wrong. He slowly brought his hands down to rub your sides soothingly. "But...? What's troubling you, my dear." You could hardly look at him. Shame coursed through your veins as a sob escaped you. Alastor's crimson orbs swirled with worry as he awaited your response with bated breath. 

"I did something terrible..." You confessed, sniffling before you continued. "I... I made a deal with Vox. My soul in exchange for protection." Alastor's lips twitched, nearly foiling his smile. His grasp on your waist tightened as he took in a deep breath. "This is all my doing. He only targeted you to get under my skin..." Alastor muttered under his breath, shaking his head in disbelief. 

More tears trickled down your regretful face. There was no getting out of this. You knew Vox would never let you go. At that very moment, you heard a call of your name. Coming from the window. You read the clock, dread flooding your chest as you realized your time was up. 

"I-I have to go. Vox put me on a curfew." You stuttered, slowly retracting your hands from your husband's face. You smoothed out your clothing and wiped away the last remaining tears. Trying to mentally prepare yourself for the ride back to Vox Tec Headquarters. 

"Please, I beg of you- don't go..." Alastor pleaded, clutching your hand with his. Your lips trembled as he continued on. "I just got you back. I don't plan on giving you up this easily." Your heart ached. You hated yourself for making a deal with Vox, for letting your guard down, for ever doubting Alastor. 

Your eyes fluttered open as Alastor's lips collided against yours. The kiss was desperate, pleading as your husband tried his hardest to convey just how much you meant to him through the embrace. He pulled back slowly, admiring your face from close up. "You're just as exceptional as the day I left you, my darling. Chin up, my dear. I'll get you out of this deal no matter what!" 

All you could do was nod in agreement as a call of your name repeated. A bit more pointed this time around. You slowly pulled away from your lover, giving him one last look. "I love you, Al," You whispered as your back faced him. Your confession was barely audible, but your husband heard it. Loud and clear. 

"I love you, my dear. More than anything."

You ignored the hotel patrons as you quickly took your leave. You emitted a shaky breath before opening the car door. Vox welcomed you with a smile as you sat beside him. The chauffeur wasted no time pulling away from the run-down place. You meekly peered out of the car, catching a glimpse of Alastor from the second-floor window. 

Your heart shattered into a million pieces from the rare sight of your husband frowning as he watched you descend down the bleary road with a man he had not a care in the world for. 

"Well? What did that nobody have to say for himself?" Vox chuckled, grasping your hand with his. Your head whipped in his direction. It took everything in you not to yank your hand from his grasp. You had to play it smart, or you would be sorry. 

"Excuses on top of excuses... this was a mistake. I never want to see that liar again." It pained you to utter those words. You just hoped your act would be believable enough. Vox captured your chin with his thumb and forefinger. A wide grin spread across his monitor. "Your wish is my command, sweetheart. I'll do everything in my power to make sure Alastor never crosses your path, for the rest of your afterlife." 

A cold sweat blanketed your skin from his words. Anxiety spiking in your veins. Vox pulled you close, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. He pulled you into a hug, soothing his large palm over your back. 

"That fucker needs to understand that you belong to me now."

tags; @danveration @celestial-vomit @jyoongim @stygianoir @polytheatrix @mmik3yy @littlebullofblythe @cxrsedwxrlds @lillithhearts @nogiggleonlybitter @minniemumbles @chewbrry @lbcreations-blog @nonetheartist @call-me-nyxx

[swappermanent]

Laying the Foundation

Owning a general contracting firm isn’t the most exciting job in the world, but it does have its perks. And by perks, I mostly mean the eye candy. Whether it’s a sweaty crew under the summer sun or a client’s husband who catches my attention during a site visit, there’s enough visual appeal to keep my day interesting.

I’m glad I can admit that now. For the first 40-something years of my life, I refused to acknowledge the part of me that liked men. It wasn’t just denial—it was an ironclad, church-fed certainty that I was the straightest man alive. I had the life to prove it too: a wife, two great kids, and a job that kept me too busy to dwell on feelings I wasn’t ready to confront.

But five years ago, I couldn’t lie anymore—at least not to myself or my wife. The realization hit me like a freight train one afternoon as I was scrolling aimlessly through my phone, and it scared the hell out of me. I’ll spare you the gory details of how I came out to her; it was messy, emotional, and one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. But if you knew her, you wouldn’t be surprised to hear how kind she was about it.

We got divorced. Not because she hated me—far from it—but because she deserved better. Someone who could love her fully, the way she’d loved me. She was understanding, even supportive, but understandably, she wanted a fresh start. She moved a few states away, which meant our boys, Elias and Remy, followed. They were in college by then, so it wasn’t like they needed me every day, but still—it stung not to see them as often.

Now, I only saw them on the breaks they got from school. Holidays, mostly. Elias was 22 and just starting to figure out his life, and Remy, at 19, was busy living his best college experience. They were good kids, and they didn’t resent me for coming out. At least, I didn’t think they did. But I could tell there were things they didn’t say, questions they didn’t ask. I tried not to push.

In the years since my divorce, I hadn’t exactly been a Casanova. You’d think that, as a newly single gay man, I’d dive headfirst into the wild world of dating apps and endless hookups. But it hadn’t played out that way. I didn’t know where to start, honestly. Bars felt too young for me, apps were overwhelming, and after decades of repressing this part of myself, I felt like I didn’t even know the rules.

And so, I stayed busy. Running my business. Keeping in touch with the boys. Pretending I wasn’t lonely. Pretending I wasn’t deeply, madly crushing on Tomas.

Tomas was one of my best guys—a foreman who had worked for me for almost six years. Early thirties, 6’1”, with the kind of lean, sculpted build that made work boots and a tool belt look like runway fashion. Tomas had short-cropped black hair, caramel skin that seemed to glow in the sun, and a confident swagger that made my heart skip a beat every time he walked past me.

He was also, without a doubt, the hottest man I’d ever laid eyes on. I wasn’t sure if it was his deep, musical laugh, the way his smile seemed to light up an entire room, or the sharp intelligence he brought to every project. Whatever it was, I was hooked. Hooked in a way that made my chest ache and my thoughts stray where they shouldn’t.

I knew I shouldn’t be thinking about him like that. I was his boss, for starters. And besides, for all I knew, he was straight and happily taken. But every time I saw him in the field, bending over to check a level or cracking a joke with the guys, I couldn’t help but fantasize. About what it would be like to pull him close, to feel his strength, to hear him say my name in a way that wasn’t professional.

I tried to keep my distance. Tried to focus on the work, on the business, on anything but the growing knot of desire that had taken up permanent residence in my chest. But Tomas was always there. Always just a few feet away, making me laugh, making me blush, making me feel things I hadn’t let myself feel in years.

I didn’t know what to do about it. Hell, I didn’t even know if there was anything to do about it. But one thing was for sure: I couldn’t take my mind off him.

---

The worst part about my unrequited crush on Tomas was the fact that I knew he was gay. I hadn’t guessed or pieced it together from subtle clues—no, I knew. I’d stumbled across his Grindr profile late one night while I was lying in bed, half-torturing myself by scrolling through profiles I had no intention of messaging.

Seeing his photo there had been like a punch to the gut. He looked incredible, of course—shirtless, smoldering, his chest lightly dusted with hair. I had stared at the profile for longer than I should have, memorizing the details: 33 years old, "masc4masc," and then the words that dashed any wild hopes I might have been clinging to: Please no guys over 30.

I closed the app immediately, my face burning with embarrassment even though no one else was there to see it. For days afterward, I kept replaying those words in my head. No guys over 30. Meanwhile, I was 50. Twenty years his senior, his boss, and, apparently, the exact opposite of what he was looking for.

After that, I resigned myself to suffering in silence. I’d accepted that my feelings for Tomas weren’t going anywhere and that I’d just have to live with it. It wasn’t like I could quit my job or fire him—he was too damn good at what he did, and I needed him on my team. So I kept my head down and my feelings buried, figuring that was the best I could do.

That is, until Miguel came along.

Miguel was the newest addition to the team, just 21 years old and fresh out of trade school. He was the youngest guy I’d ever hired, but he came with glowing recommendations, and within a week of working with him, it was clear they hadn’t been exaggerated. Miguel was a dynamo—hardworking, quick to learn, and always eager to take on more responsibility. He had an upbeat attitude that set him apart from the rest of the crew, and he never let the tougher, more grizzled guys intimidate him.

But while Miguel’s work ethic was impeccable, his looks were something else entirely. The kid was gorgeous. A fuckboy face if I’d ever seen one, with sharp cheekbones, thick lashes, a sexy dusting of a beard, and a jawline that could cut glass. His hair was a messy mop of jet-black curls, and his dark brown eyes sparkled with the kind of mischief that could make you question all your good decisions.

Even at his young age, Miguel had this natural charisma that drew people to him like moths to a flame. He wasn’t trying to be sexy—he just was. Whether it was the way he laughed or the easy confidence in his stride, you could tell he had everyone swooning at his feet. And that included Tomas.

I wasn’t blind. I saw the way Tomas’s eyes lingered on Miguel during lunch breaks or how he found excuses to talk to him on the job. At first, I thought it might just be professional—Tomas mentoring the new guy, making sure he felt welcome. But it didn’t take long to realize there was more to it than that. Tomas was interested in Miguel. You could see it in the way he stood just a little too close or laughed a little too hard at Miguel’s jokes.

The funny thing was, Miguel didn’t seem to notice his effect on everyone else. Despite his looks and charm, he had this air of innocence about him, like he didn’t quite realize the power he had. He worked hard, showed up early, and went home late, never sticking around for beers or banter with the guys. It was almost like he didn’t want to be seen as just a pretty face.

Watching the dynamic between Tomas and Miguel unfold was like a slow kind of torture. On the one hand, I wanted Tomas to be happy, even if it wasn’t with me. On the other hand, the idea of him falling for someone so much younger, so effortlessly magnetic, made my stomach churn with jealousy. Not toward Miguel, exactly—he hadn’t done anything wrong—but at the reminder of what I couldn’t have.

---

A few months into Miguel working with us, I reached my breaking point. Watching Tomas flirt with him day after day, while Miguel remained blissfully unaware, was driving me insane. Tomas’s lingering glances, the playful shoulder taps, the overly friendly banter—it was everything I’d fantasized about, happening right in front of me, but directed at someone else. Someone younger. Someone who didn’t even notice.

Damn it. Why couldn’t that be me?

I had to do something. Anything. The jealousy was eating me alive, and the hopelessness of my situation was unbearable. So, in a moment of desperation, I decided to use something unconventional. Something I’d never planned to use at all.

A few years ago, I’d taken a trip to South America—a solo getaway to clear my head after the divorce. While exploring a small town nestled in the Andes, I’d stumbled upon an old shop filled with trinkets, charms, and artifacts that seemed plucked from legend. One item caught my eye: a smooth, jet-black stone about the size of a silver dollar, etched with intricate carvings that seemed to shift when you looked at them too long. The shopkeeper had insisted it was a swapping stone, a relic capable of exchanging bodies between two willing participants.

At the time, I’d bought it as a novelty. A conversation piece. But now, staring at it on my nightstand, an idea took root in my mind—an idea so reckless and audacious that I couldn’t believe I was considering it.

The next morning, I pulled Miguel aside during a coffee break. He looked surprised but didn’t question it, following me into my office.

“What’s up, boss?” he asked, plopping down into the chair opposite me with his usual relaxed energy.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves. “Miguel, I’ve been watching you these past few months, and I’ve got to say—you’ve been doing a hell of a job. The crew loves you, and you’ve been busting your ass out there.”

He shrugged, clearly uncomfortable with the praise. “Thanks, but I’m just doing my part.”

I nodded, then leaned forward, clasping my hands on the desk. “Look, I know how hard this kind of work is. It’s physically demanding, and you’ve been carrying a lot of weight for someone so young. So I wanted to offer you something.”

His eyebrows raised. “Offer me what?”

I pulled the stone out of my desk drawer and set it between us. “A swap.”

Miguel tilted his head, his confusion evident. “A swap?”

“Yes. A swap. With me.” I gestured toward the stone. “This… is a bit of a long story, but let’s just say it’s not an ordinary rock. It has the power to let us trade places—temporarily, of course. I’d take your body, and you’d take mine.”

Miguel stared at me, silent for a long moment, before letting out a disbelieving laugh. “Boss, are you feeling okay?”

“I’m serious.” I pushed the stone closer to him. “Think about it. You’re out there every day breaking your back, while I’m in here taking calls and pushing paperwork. If we swap, you’d get to enjoy the perks of being the boss—shorter hours, no manual labor. You could take my car, my house, my money. Do whatever you want for a while.”

His ears perked up at that. “Whatever I want?”

I chuckled. “Whatever you want. Look, I may be in my fifties, but I’m still in good shape, and I’ve got the resources to make it worth your while. You could have some fun. Live it up.”

Miguel leaned back in his chair, studying me. “Okay, but what’s in it for you? Why would you want to swap with me?”

I hesitated, trying to come up with something that didn’t make me sound like a crazy old man. “Honestly? I’ve been in this business a long time, and I want to understand it better. Really get a feel for what it’s like to be on the ground again.”

Miguel raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical.

“And…” I added, with a sheepish grin, “maybe I want to relive my youth a bit. See what it’s like to be in my twenties again. Humor an old man, will you?”

That got him. He burst out laughing, shaking his head. “Man, you’re something else.”

“So, what do you say?” I asked, my heart pounding.

Miguel studied the stone, his lips pressed into a thoughtful line. Then he looked back at me, a mischievous glint in his eye. “If you’re serious, boss, then yeah. Why not? Let’s do it.”

Little did he know, my motivations had nothing to do with reliving my youth or gaining a new perspective. My eyes were set firmly on Tomas,

We both stood in my office, the stone resting between us on the desk. Miguel seemed skeptical but game, his trademark grin lighting up his face. I couldn’t help but marvel at his confidence—effortless, natural, the kind that came with being young and having the world at your feet.

“So, what’s the magic phrase, boss?” he asked, clearly humoring me.

“It’s in Spanish,” I said, picking up the stone and holding it out to him. “I did get it in Chile, after all. We both have to hold it and say, ‘Quiero cambiar.’ It means, ‘I want to swap.’ Simple enough, right?”

Miguel gave me a look that was equal parts curiosity and amusement, then shrugged. “Alright, boss. Let’s see this thing work.”

He wrapped his calloused hand around one side of the stone, and I gripped the other. For a moment, I hesitated, wondering if this was really the right thing to do. But then I glanced at him, at the youthful energy in his face and the opportunity shimmering in his eyes, and I knew there was no turning back.

We spoke the words together: “Quiero cambiar.”

The moment the last syllable left my lips, I felt it. A strange warmth radiated from the stone, seeping into my palm and spreading up my arm like a current. My back arched involuntarily, and a sensation like liquid sunlight flooded my chest, pulling me out of myself. It wasn’t painful, but it was overwhelming—intense, euphoric, like every nerve in my body was alight.

Across from me, Miguel was going through the same thing. His head tilted back, his body trembling as the same warm glow overtook him. I could hear his sharp intake of breath, followed by a low, guttural moan. We both stumbled a step back, clutching at the air, though there wasn’t anything visible leaving our bodies—just the overwhelming sense of movement.

And then it stopped. Like flipping a switch, the warmth vanished, leaving me standing there, panting, in Miguel’s body.

The first thing I noticed was how much lighter I felt. My limbs moved easily, like I could leap ten feet in the air if I tried. My skin was smooth, my shoulders lean but sturdy. I raised a hand to my cheek, running my fingers along the softer, smoother surface, and then down to my abs—firm and defined, cobblestones under my touch. It was like my body had been built in a dream.

Miguel, now in my body, flexed one of my arms experimentally. “Damn, boss,” he said with a laugh, staring at my bicep, which was massive and veined from years of heavy lifting. “I don’t know if my body’s really any better than yours.”

He turned to the small mirror on the wall, lifting my shirt and giving my old body’s abs a quick once-over. “You’ve been holding out on me, man! If I looked like this at 50, I’d be showing it off all the time.”

I let out a nervous laugh, still getting used to the sound of Miguel’s voice coming out of my mouth. “Yeah, I’m not so sure about that,” I said, my fingers grazing over my new, perfectly sculpted abs. “This feels like a serious upgrade.”

Miguel smirked, striking a mock pose and letting out a low whistle. “You’re not wrong. Your body’s hot as hell now. Don’t break too many hearts, alright?”

I grinned, I had quite the opposite in mind.

[edenesth]

TWTHH Spinoff: Love to Hate You [1]

Pairing: royal secretary!San x female scholar!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 5k

Summary: San prided himself on his knack for building easy connections with women, viewing himself as a trusted ally for the opposite gender. Thanks to his deep bonds with his mother and sister, he possessed keen insights into the female mindset. Never did he imagine facing the ire of a woman, until he encountered a resolute female scholar with a strong dislike towards men.

A/N: As stated in the title, this is a spinoff. If you have yet to check out the main story, it's probably better to read that before starting this.

Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist | Part 2

"Moon Siwoo, you get over here this instant!" you commanded, hands planted firmly on your hips as you glared at your twelve-year-old brother, who grumbled and rubbed his eyes sleepily while trudging reluctantly toward you.

"But noona, it's too early!" he protested, his pout aimed at evoking your sympathy, but you merely shook your head in disapproval.

Your mother sighed beside you. "Please go easy on him," she implored, but you met her plea with a stern gaze. "And who went easy on me, mother? If you keep coddling him like this, he'll grow up to be just another one of those entitled brats who call themselves a man. Is that what you want?"

Defeated, she fell silent and retreated to prepare lunchboxes for you and your brother. The silence spoke volumes, conveying the weight of the elderly woman's guilt as she grappled with your palpable disdain for men. Ever since little Siwoo came into the world, you had made it your mission to ensure he wouldn't become one of those disappointing individuals who claim to be men.

Of course, your dislike wasn't unfounded.

Your late father, already lacking as a parent, succumbed to his drinking problem not long after your brother's birth, leaving you, the eldest, to shoulder the family's responsibilities. But that wasn't the worst of it; his demise was overshadowed by the circumstances of his death—a result of excessive drinking in a brothel, of all places. It was a fact that brought you little sorrow.

Throughout your childhood, he imposed expectations meant for a son onto you, driven by his own unfulfilled aspirations of becoming a respected scholar in Joseon society. However, his misguided attempts at moulding you into his image of success involved subjecting you to gruelling and excessive lessons from a young age. At that time, your mother held little sway and dared not challenge him. Consequently, there was no one to shield you from his demands.

The irony lay in his expectations for you to excel, despite setting a horrible example. He often cited stress as justification for indulging in alcohol, initially venturing out for brief outings with "friends" before progressively extending his absences. Eventually, his nights away grew longer until he would vanish entirely, only returning the following morning reeking of different women's perfumes each time.

Therefore, you would be lying if you said you didn't harbour resentment toward your father. Discovering his passing brought a sense of relief, even if it meant assuming a heavier burden on your young shoulders. Life had never been easy for you in the first place, and you gladly accepted the added responsibility of supporting your mother and younger brother without the presence of a tyrant dictating your actions at home.

Yet, just when you thought the worst was over, you bore witness to the struggles faced by women around you as you juggled odd jobs while pursuing your studies independently, preparing for the state examination—the initial step toward achieving the status of a scholar-official. During this period, you witnessed firsthand how women were often relegated to the roles of mere child-bearers and servants to men who offered little in return. It was almost funny how they depended on women for everything while simultaneously treating the female gender as inferior.

This realisation fueled your determination to become the first female scholar, not to uphold your useless father's legacy, but to advocate for the marginalised women who lacked influential advocates to champion their cause and facilitate change.

Over a decade has passed since those tumultuous times. Now that Siwoo had reached an appropriate age, you resolved to enrol him in school after years of personally tutoring him to impart basic knowledge and skills, aiming to cut costs. You had taught him enough to grasp reading and writing. With him now eligible to enter the foundational levels of education mandated for embarking on the path to becoming a scholar-official, you were resolute in instilling him with your aspirations.

"Too early, you say? Would you rather rise with the sun for school or face punishments then?" you challenged, lifting an eyebrow.

Amusement danced in your eyes as the child's gaze widened in fear, vigorously shaking his head. "No, please! I'll behave and go to school! Spare me from standing in the corner for hours again, noona!"

"Now, that's my good boy," you gentled your tone, tousling his hair affectionately and straightening his slightly dishevelled hanbok. "How many times have I reminded you to tie the ribbons neatly like this? The teachers will scold you if they're not done properly, and you wouldn't want to make a poor impression on your first day. You'll make mother and me proud, won't you?"

He grinned brightly, "Yes, noona!"

Watching from the sidelines, your mother's heart swelled with warmth. Despite your stern demeanour at times, she was aware you loved him more than anything, knowing you could never be overly harsh. You had a knack for striking the right balance, teaching valuable lessons while showing him care and affection. Even as her daughter, she sometimes felt there was much she could learn from you.

"Alright, here are your lunchboxes, kids. Make sure to finish them, okay?" she instructed, passing the bags to you, receiving a smile in return.

"Got it! Don't worry, mother!" he chirped, saluting playfully.

"Thank you, mother. You should rest well while this little monkey heads off to school. How's your back feeling? I can swing by the apothecary for more herbs if you need any," you offered.

She shook her head, gently patting your cheek. "I'm fine, dear. Don't spend money unnecessarily. Some rest will do. Now hurry along before you both end up late."

With an arm around Siwoo, you guided him alongside you after bidding farewell to your mother. Your next stop was dropping him off at the nearest school before heading to the palace yourself to borrow some books not readily available in the public library. Having already passed the first two preliminary examinations with flying colours, only the final one stood between you and the coveted title of scholar-official. You were determined to complete it all swiftly, eager to finally begin making tangible contributions for the women of Joseon.

As you reached the entrance of your alma mater, you handed your brother his bag. "Alright, the teachers are expecting you. Please remember to behave and keep in mind what I've taught you—always be respectful and avoid causing trouble for anyone. Stay attentive and don't hesitate to ask questions if you're unsure. You won't learn anything by staying silent," you reminded, smoothing down his hair.

He nodded earnestly. "I won't forget, noona."

You grinned, pinching his cheek gently. "Good, I'll be here to pick you up after school. Wait right here if I haven't arrived yet. And don't wander off with anyone, understood?"

He swatted your hand away, rubbing his cheek. "Yeah, yeah. How could I forget? You've been drilling that into me for a week now. Bye, noona."

"Goodbye, Siwoo," you murmured, watching him enter the school gates and noticing the familiar figure of one of your teachers, Master Lee, waiting to greet him. Meeting the kind elderly man's gaze, you bowed deeply in gratitude. He was one of the few genuinely good men you had encountered in your life. Back then, understanding the difficulties you faced with your father's strictness, he had always strived to ease your burdens at school. Being the lone girl in a predominantly male institution also made you susceptible to bullying, but in this teacher's presence, you found solace.

He had also played a crucial role in securing your brother's enrollment. While your own admission might have been facilitated by your father's connections, the same couldn't be said for Siwoo, lacking influential or affluent backing. It was your close relationship with Master Lee that ensured his placement in the school.

As the man gave you a reassuring nod before guiding your brother into the school, you lingered for a moment, watching them until they disappeared from sight. You couldn't shake off the constant worry for the kid. The fear of him being bullied once his classmates discovered he didn't have a father plagued your thoughts. Yet, deep down, you understood this was necessary for his growth. After all, you faced similar challenges alone during your own schooling years.

You pushed aside those concerns, reminding yourself that Master Lee would be there to look out for him. With a heavy heart, you reluctantly turned away, knowing that as his elder sister, there was only so much you could do. The rest was up to him.

He'll survive; stop worrying.

Walking away from the school, you reminded yourself of your own priorities for now. Your focus needed to be on studying and acing the final examination. With that thought in mind, you set off towards the palace, your mind already forming a mental list of all the books you would need from the royal library.

Each step brought a sense of determination, the weight of responsibility settling firmly on your shoulders. You couldn't afford to let yourself be consumed by worry for Siwoo, not when your own future depended on your success in the upcoming examination.

"Yes, Your Majesty. I will deliver the latest batch of minutes and reports to General Park to ensure he is kept informed by today," San stated in his customary professional manner before bowing deeply.

The King nodded, gesturing with his hand to dismiss the secretary. "Very well. Proceed. And do not detain him unnecessarily; I am sure he is eager to spend every moment with his wife," he remarked, chuckling softly into his fists, pleased by the transformation of his once stoic general into a loving and affectionate husband.

"Understood, Your Majesty," the younger man replied, stepping back to excuse himself from the throne room.

As he made his way to his office to retrieve the documents before heading to the general's estate, he couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. With a furrowed brow, his steps faltered and he scanned the surroundings, searching for the source. Finally, his gaze settled on what appeared to be the fourth prince, observing him intently from a nearby pavilion. Despite the surprise, San maintained a neutral expression, not wanting to appear impolite.

Meeting Prince Yeosang's eyes, he offered a deep bow in greeting. His Highness reciprocated the gesture with a nod but continued to watch as the royal secretary attempted to move away.

Does he... want something from me?

San let out a deep sigh, internally debating whether to approach the prince. He knew Yeosang wasn't particularly sociable and might find it difficult to initiate conversations, despite any desire he had to do so. Finally, he made up his mind and veered towards the pavilion where the fourth prince was seated.

With a respectful bow, the royal secretary pretended not to notice the small breath of relief that escaped Yeosang upon his arrival. "Good day, Your Highness. It's unusual to see you out. How have you been faring?" he asked politely, mindful of the prince's ongoing punishment, which restricted his access to most areas even within the palace.

Yeosang gestured towards the seat across from him. "As well as one can be, considering my limited movements. Please, Secretary Choi, take a seat, and let us have a chat."

Giving in to the prince's invitation, San settled down and accepted the offered cup of tea. "Thank you, Your Highness. What would you like to discuss?" he asked patiently, allowing Yeosang time to collect his thoughts. As the prince struggled to articulate himself, the royal secretary calmly finished his tea, maintaining an expectant gaze upon His Highness.

After what felt like an eternity, Yeosang cleared his throat before speaking, "H-how is she...?" San immediately understood whom he was referring to but chose to feign ignorance. "I don't think it would be right for me to make any assumptions. Whom do you mean by 'she,' my prince?" he inquired.

Flustered, the prince sighed, avoiding San's gaze as he replied, "Lady Park, the general's wife... I noticed General Park hasn't been attending assemblies for a while now, and I was just... you know, wondering if everything is alright with her or... them."

The royal secretary's demeanour softened at Yeosang's inquiry. Offering a warm smile, he reassured, "Your Highness, please do not worry. Things are more than fine over at the general's estate. I didn't think it'd be right for you to hear this from me, but it seems there's no avoiding it, especially given your current restriction from leaving the palace."

Yeosang's curiosity sparked further. "What news do you speak of? Please, tell me."

San hesitated briefly before disclosing the truth. "Lady Park is, um... well, she's expecting, my prince. That's why the general has taken time off from work to care for her."

The prince fell silent for a moment, processing the news, while the royal secretary observed the myriad of emotions crossing His Highness' face. Finally, Yeosang croaked out, "I suppose that means he's treating her well then, yes?"

San nodded reassuringly. "Yes, he is. Perhaps when His Majesty pardons your punishment, you could pay them a visit. I'm sure Lady Park would appreciate seeing you."

The prince nodded slowly. "That's good... and yes, I think I will."

After a brief pause, the secretary spoke again. "Well, if that's all, I should probably return to work, Your Highness."

Yeosang nodded in understanding. "O-oh yes, of course. Don't let me keep you any longer. Thank you, Secretary Choi."

With a polite nod, San took his leave, continuing on his way to his office. His mind couldn't help but wander, pondering whether the prince still held any feelings for the general's wife. Even if he did, the secretary reasoned, at least His Highness was gracious enough to accept and acknowledge that he didn't stand a chance.

As he walked, his steps faltered, and he did a double take when he noticed a figure he had long wanted to meet—the first of your kind. He had heard much about your impressive performance in the preliminary exams. You must be here to prepare for your final examination. Eager to make your acquaintance, he rushed over, only to be met with the last thing he had expected.

"I'm just trying to help, Scholar Moon," the royal secretary insisted, his arms emptying as the stack of books he was previously carrying was abruptly snatched away by the newly acquainted female scholar.

You scoffed in response, "I don't remember asking for your help, sir. I understand it must be quite intriguing to meet a female scholar for the first time. However, there's a reason I'm the first. I'm not your typical damsel in distress. I don't need saving. While you may be used to women swooning at your feet, rest assured, I won't be one of them."

San stood in stunned silence as he watched you storming off in a fit of anger, completely taken aback by your hostile response to his well-intentioned gesture.

He had stumbled upon you as you exited the royal library burdened with a stack of borrowed books, his innate helpfulness and gentlemanly nature immediately prompted him to offer assistance without hesitation. But rather than the customary grateful smile and expression of thanks he anticipated, he couldn't believe he was met with such an unexpected and vehement reaction.

Did I... do something wrong?

A court lady standing nearby widened her eyes in disbelief. "Did you seriously just say that? Do you even know who he is?"

You rolled your eyes dismissively. "Probably just a eunuch, why?" you retorted, waving off her concern. "I doubt any high-ranking officials would pay me any mind."

"Well, you're correct about that. He's not a high-ranking official, but he is someone close to the King. He's the royal secretary," she disclosed, causing your heart to nearly stop as you gaped at her.

He's the what?!

After taking a moment to compose yourself, you blinked rapidly before turning around, only to find him already gone. With a sigh, you faced the court lady again, wearing an expression as if you had done nothing wrong. "Okay, well, as you said, he isn't a high-ranking official. Just a mere secretary. What's he going to do about it? Run to the king like a spoiled little brat? It will be fine," you said, though it sounded more like you were convincing yourself than her.

Suppressing a chuckle behind her hand, she nodded in agreement. "Well, you're not wrong about being fine. Royal Secretary Choi is known to be one of the nicest people. I'm sure he will let it slide," she reassured you with a gentle smile.

Your brows furrowed sceptically. "One of the nicest people, huh? I know men like that; wolves in sheep's clothing. They'll treat you well, make you feel indebted, and then exploit you eventually."

She sighed in resignation, shaking her head in disbelief. "I know nothing I say now will change your mind, but with time, you'll see he isn't anything like that at all."

You replied with a wry smile, "With time? No, I hope I never run into him again. I have no interest in his character. Nevertheless, thank you for the insight. I'll remember to steer clear if I ever see him again. Good day, madam." With a polite bow, you bid her farewell and continued with your day.

As you made your way back to your educational institution to resume your studies, you couldn't help but scoff as you reflected on the encounter with that man and the favourable reputation he tried to cultivate in the palace. Being no stranger to such types, you recognised his type: those who exploited their charm and false kindness to manipulate others. They always seemed to get what they wanted, with people readily bending to their will. It was a trait you detested. This royal secretary appeared to be cut from the same cloth.

But if he thought you would succumb to his charm like the other court ladies and comply with his wishes, he was sorely mistaken. You hoped you wouldn't have to see him again.

Despite feeling a twinge of embarrassment for being less than polite to someone of his stature, you didn't regret your words. They were spoken with genuine conviction.

"Thank you, San. If that's all..." Seonghwa's voice trailed off as he caught sight of the troubled expression on the royal secretary's face. "Oh god, what is it?"

Shaking his head, the younger man replied, "It's nothing serious. I just had a really odd encounter earlier today, and I'm wondering if I did something wrong..."

"Really? You? Doing something wrong? That doesn't sound like Choi San to me. You can do no wrong," the general teased, finally managing to coax a smile out of the royal secretary.

San chuckled. "Well, you know how easily I usually connect with girls and women."

Seonghwa raised an amused brow. "Ah, girl problems? It must be the season of love. Yunho's confiding in my wife about his own love troubles as we speak."

The secretary's eyes widened, and he waved his hands to dismiss the suggestion. "What? L-love? It has nothing to do with that."

"Yeah, that's what they all say..." the general grinned knowingly.

"No, seriously. Have you heard of the famous Scholar Moon?" San asked, to which the older man nodded. "If you're referring to the first female scholar in Joseon, then yes. So, she's the protagonist of your love story, huh?"

Secretary Choi rolled his eyes. "I swear, sometimes I miss when you're all cold and brooding. Anyway, I met her for the first time earlier, just before coming here. I saw her emerging from the royal library, arms filled with books, and out of kindness, I offered to help. But instead of thanking me, she... snatched the books back and launched into a whole monologue about not being a damsel in distress and not needing my help. She seemed... quite angry with me."

The general pondered for a moment, "Hmm, interesting..." San anxiously waited to hear Seonghwa's thoughts on the situation, nervously biting his lip.

Finally, the older man spoke up, "Well, she is the first female scholar after all. Perhaps she's different from most women you know. And besides, if she didn't request your help and you intervened, it might come off as presumptuous. Or maybe she's just having a bad day, and you happened to be there. Or... well, I'm probably the last person you should be consulting on this. You're the expert when it comes to women, so if you can't understand her, how can I...?"

Observing the continued concern on the secretary's face, the general added, "You care too much, San. Remember, no matter how well you think you understand women, not everyone is the same. Don't be surprised if you can't get along with every woman on earth. If, as you said, it's not about love, then let it go. Why should one Scholar Moon upset the great Royal Secretary Choi?"

San took a moment to absorb General Park's words before nodding slowly. "You're right. Maybe I just have to accept it," he conceded. "I guess I'm so affected because this has never happened before."

Pushing himself up from his seat across from Seonghwa, the secretary bowed respectfully. "I've taken more of your time than I planned. I should probably get going." The older man nodded, rising to see his friend off.

As San reached the exit of the general's study, he paused. "Oh, wait, one last thing... I spoke with the fourth prince earlier," he mentioned, sensing a slight shift in Seonghwa's demeanour. "He mentioned not seeing you around the palace and was concerned about Lady Park. I... told him about her pregnancy. I hope you don't mind. He seemed relieved to hear she's doing well."

Seonghwa's expression softened. "Thank you, San. That's good to know. I appreciate it. He's... her friend, I'm sure she'd want His Highness to know." Giving San a pat on the shoulder, he said, "Off you go then. Have a safe trip back. I'll see you next week."

As the secretary made his way back to his family estate, he opted to forgo the carriage ride for the day, choosing instead to take a leisurely walk. He figured it would help clear his mind of the unnecessary thoughts that had been bothering him. Perhaps it was the people pleaser in him, but he couldn't shake off the feeling that the earlier incident had affected him more than he cared to admit. Even though he knew he hadn't done anything wrong, he couldn't help but replay the encounter in his mind, wondering what he could have done differently to elicit a more favourable reaction from you.

However, he reminded himself of General Park's words – not everyone was meant to get along, and that was okay. With that in mind, he tried to focus on the scenery around him, letting the gentle breeze and chirping birds distract him from his thoughts.

Just as he was about to walk past a school, he heard the unmistakable sound of a child crying. Curious, he turned toward the source of the sound and saw a young boy sobbing alone by the entrance of the school.

San looked around to see if anyone was responsible for the boy's distress or if the source of his tears could be identified, but there was no one nearby. Passersby continued on with their day, seemingly oblivious to the child's plight. Unable to ignore the situation, San slowly approached him before kneeling down beside him.

"Hi there, kid. Are you okay? What happened?" he asked gently.

The child sniffled, wiping his tears. "My sister told me not to talk to strangers. If you think I'll follow you, then forget it. I'm not like those other dumb kids," he replied with a pout.

Taken aback by the boy's response, the royal secretary blinked rapidly before reassuring him, "I... no, I'm not a bad person."

The boy snorted sceptically. "Yeah, that's what they all say. If you try anything, I'll scream for my teacher."

Huh, that attitude feels oddly familiar.

Raising his hands in a gesture of surrender, San shook his head. "I promise, I just wanted to check up on you and find out why you're crying. If you don't want me to bother you, I'll leave right now."

Just as he was about to walk away, the boy sighed and tugged on his sleeve. "W-wait... fine, just listen to me then," he relented.

San chuckled softly. "Go on, tell me what or who made you cry. Even if I might not be able to help you, you'll feel better after talking about it."

The child nodded, fiddling with his fingers nervously. "It's my first day of school and... it's stupid. My sister already warned me that it might happen, but still..." Fat tears rolled down his little cheeks as San wiped them away gently. "It's okay, you can tell me," he encouraged.

The boy continued, his voice trembling with emotion. "They bullied me because I don't have a father. He died not long after I was born, so it's just me, my mother, and my sister. But I don't get it! Why should I get bullied for something I can't control?"

Just as San lifted his hand to comfort the child, he was startled by the unexpected appearance of the last person he anticipated seeing so soon. "Hey! Don't you dare lay a hand on him!" you shouted, hurrying over.

Your protective instincts kicked in as you arrived to collect Siwoo from school, only to find him in tears with this unfamiliar man poised to touch him. At the sound of your voice, the royal secretary swiftly turned his head, and your eyes widened in shock at the sight before you. Just when you hoped never to encounter him again, fate had other plans. The world had never been kind to you, so perhaps you shouldn't have been surprised.

Are you freaking kidding me?

"S-scholar Moon! I swear, I was just trying to help..." San's words stumbled out, but you took a deep breath to steady yourself before responding, "It's fine, we're fine. I'm not even going to ask what you're doing here. I just... I apologise for my earlier behaviour in the palace if I offended you in any way. Thank you, Royal Secretary Choi, for your kindness, but we really don't need your help."

Your brother protested, "But, noona—"

You shot him a stern look. "We'll discuss this at home, Moon Siwoo."

As San stood there, his mind racing, the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. Not only were you the first female scholar, to achieve such a feat without the backing of a powerful father, but you also carried the burden of supporting your family on your shoulders. Could it be that your disdain for help stemmed from a distaste for pity? He couldn't fathom how difficult things must have been for a young lady like yourself.

It occurred to him that your independence might have forged a toughness within you, causing you to recoil at the mere thought of accepting assistance. But these were mere speculations. He knew his mind would not find peace until he uncovered the truth.

As you turned to leave with your brother, the royal secretary's voice halted your steps. "Wait, Scholar Moon! I swear, I came across your brother by chance; I didn't realise he was related to you. And I... I, too, apologise if I've offended you in any way. There must be a reason for your reaction, and if there's anything I could have handled better, please let me know. I understand that being a female scholar must not be easy."

You briefly closed your eyes, acknowledging his smooth words. Had it been someone else, they might have melted. But maintaining your resolve, you turned back to face him. "I appreciate the apology, Royal Secretary Choi. But please, don't overthink it. My reaction wasn't aimed solely at you; it would have been the same with any man. Now, if you'll excuse us, we must be on our way."

Wait, what does that mean?

« Preview of Part 2 »

"Sometimes I wonder what His Majesty sees in you. You can be so dense, it's astonishing," Haneul remarked, shaking her head in playful disbelief as she nudged San's head.

He whined, swatting her hand away. "What are you even doing here, noona? Is your husband okay with you always running away from home like this, huh?"

She smacked him lightly. "Is that any way to talk to your older sister? Besides, this is my home too. What's wrong with visiting once in a while? And let's not change the subject! She's already dealing with a tough life, and now she has to contend with self-absorbed men like you. It's clear she doesn't trust men. She grew up without a father, and even when he was around, who knows what he was like? And being a female scholar, imagine the prejudice she faces. Do you honestly think she's had positive experiences with men?"

"What? I'm not self-absorbed!" he protested, shooting her a glare.

Haneul nodded sarcastically. "Oh yeah, not at all. All you've been busy thinking about is what you did, what you could have done because everything revolves around you and your magical ability to charm all the women on this land. Finally, you meet someone immune to it, and of course, it couldn't possibly be because you're just a man, but rather, it has to be about you."

"W-well, if you put it that way..."

She rolled her eyes. "Just admit that I'm right and move on, you fool. Now that you know it's not about your actions; it's just her general distrust in men, you can sleep in peace tonight knowing you did nothing wrong. It's not you, it's her."

But the royal secretary found himself unable to sleep well that night. Understanding that it was men you hated only ignited a newfound determination in him.

I'll show her that not all men are the same.

Y'all, I'm sorry this took so long! I'm afraid updates will be slow after this because guess who is starting her full-time job tomorrow :) back to that Mon-Fri 8-5 corporate life, so I won't be able to write as frequently anymore💔 but I'll do my best to write whenever I can!

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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[vynxwave]

tf skybound issue 14 thoughts / analysis / connections n whatnot. spoilers for the issue 15 preview too.

absolutely gorgeous art

VERY G1 starscream vibes in some places xD... i could practically hear his voice

more of starscream's origin and a bit more of megatron! i like megatron's characterization in skybound so far plus the decepticon cause's. i think skybound's decepticon ideology's gotta be my favorite, it just meshes their violence with their believed righteousness in such a great way.

this issue gives starscream quite a different initial approach to morality than seen in previous continuities (iirc) where here in #14 he is against killing prisoners of war while being a decepticon (often he's with loose morals even before becoming a decepticon).

megatron has the ability to mentally coerce the one wielding him to bend to his will (painfully), which i think is a really cool concept.

this makes starscream's evil directly caused by megatron from prolonged exposure to his influence conditioning/corrupting him. as seen in the mini background panels, over time blasting many Autobots to scrap, starscream grows to enjoy it

i've personally always loved starscream's evil to be completely independent of megatron('s) (as it has been) so i'm a bit conflicted on this aspect of skybound starscream... but i do understand its purpose/role in the story though.

issues #13/#14 run a parallel between then starscream & megatron and present starscream & those humans: both purport to Starscream they want to help him, but in reality they just want to use him for their own benefit. with that then story running parallel to the present one, starscream's dialogue about those humans also reflects upon how he felt under megatron's control

megatron forcing starscream to wield him definitely felt like it was expounding upon a question one might have had watching G1 ��� "why would megatron let someone who openly covets his position wield him?" of course, skybound isn't g1 and takes the idea and angle quite differently than the show did. with this it also supplies the reason of why starscream resents megatron and wants to overthrow and kill him.

and of G1, the Decepticons siding with starscream are ones who have sided with him once in the cartoon — the Combaticons in Starscream's Brigade and Astrotrain in Triple Takeover (and of course, Astrotrain was also the one to crown Starscream in the 1986 movie).

with Soundwave having the Constructicons and Starscream the Combaticons, a cool fight between Devastator and Bruticus is sure to ensue (vol 3 [collects #13-#18 + the story from the 2024 special] is called "Combiner Chaos" anyway)

i will be delighted to see soundwave and his decepticons vs starscream and his decepticons.

soundwave looks to be a megatron loyalist in this continuity and shares a bit of his sentiments (a bit below).

neat how then starscream and present thundercracker both had objections to the treatment of prisoners of war.

not the first time there's been a similarity between them, here's panels (#1 & #8) that parallel each other:

and how they differ:

not 1:1, but megatron's words to starscream reminded me of soundwave's to thundercracker — a subordinate's objection met with a reminder of their place and that their objection is irrelevant to their superior.

also worth noting, soundwave keeps thundercracker by his side despite his continual disagreements with how things are going, which is similar to megatron keeping starscream (who resents him) by his side.

i'd guess these similarities serve to build up to thundercracker possibly eventually actively opposing soundwave (as opposed to just going along with it) — here in the #15 preview he gives the humans warning to flee before blasting the building

now, knowing megatron's gunmode has the ability to mentally coerce the wielder to bend to his will... looks like this is what's happening with optimus wearing megatron's cannon arm!! xD. "megatron's cannon arm is influencing prime" has been built up and noticed, but it's nice to have megatron's ability now explicitly shown.

In #5 Starscream comments on Optimus having Megatron's cannon arm, and Optimus has a bit to say to him before blasting him with it.

Many noticed the parallel between Megatron & Optimus's fight in the Energon Universe Special 2024 and Optimus & Shockwave's in #12 as well as his tinged eye color.

Now with #14 we can also see a a similar thing that happened to Optimus happen to Starscream — Megatron's influence practically forcing their hand, going against what they wanted. Note the green-yellow background gradient suggesting Megatron's mental coercion in Starscream's panels, and in Optimus's panels (above) when his eyes are tinged there's yellow or yellow-green used in the background.

[pedal-writes]

Lloyd garmadon hcs (romantic & reg hcs)

A/N: This is first post on here 😭 I’m super into ninjago right now so I might as well write abt it. And Lloyd is super pookie bear 🫶

Romantic:

-When you guys first start dating, Lloyd is a bit awkward since A. He’s never been in a legitimate relationship before and B. He has insane trauma from Harumi.

-But over time, he’ll start to warm up to you! You just gotta be patient with him.

-Loves to read comics with you, it’s such a guilty pleasure (and he’s a big nerd.)

-When he’s with you, he’s always holding your hand or resting his hand on your lower back. He’s protective in a casual way rather than a possessive way, yk?

-Very prone to venting to you.

-Every once in awhile, he takes you out in ninjago city for a date on a rooftop of a building. It’s not the best place for a date but he’s not much of a romantic. But he does try for you!

-Always takes care of you when you’re sick. He makes soup and tea for you, and sits by your side, holding your hand while talking about whatever.

-He’s such a cuddle bug!! He loves laying on your chest while you tangle your fingers in his hair. And vice versa.

-Loves to kiss you on your face, esp your cheek and your nose. Seeing your face get all blushy after he surprises you with a kiss really makes him happy.

-Feels a little self conscious around you about certain things, like his dad, his oni form, or the idea of being a master since those things bother him deeply. But a little reassurance and kind words from you will help his self esteem a ton.

-He likes it when you braid his hair or play with it in any way.

-If you’re up to it, lloyd loves training with you. He’ll go easy on you considering he doesn’t want to hurt you, but if he does he feels so bad 😭

-When you two are together, Kai will do EVERYTHING in his willpower to embarrass Lloyd for funsies.

-One time, he totally showed you a picture of when Lloyd was little and he had that atrocious bowl cut. Let’s just say Kai was locked out of the monastery for a good 3 days 😁

-Doesn’t use many nicknames but does like to use a shortened ver of your name, to keep it simple. But he doesn’t mind calling you “gorgeous” or “beautiful” once in awhile, since to him you definitely are.

-Misako and Wu would definitely love you immediately after Lloyd introduces you (more so misako), no questions asked.

-Garmadon though? It depends. If you get to know him a bit better, then he’ll probably warm up to you. He’s just a bit weary because of his trust issues.

-Kinda same with the Ninja honestly, but they’ll warm up to you super quick when they see how you treat lloyd and how happy you make him. They just want the best for him is all.

General:

-Lloyd really values his hair, like a ton. He takes super good care of it. And I really like to think after the events of crystalized, he started to actually grow his hair out.

-And by the time of dragons rising, his hair is all the way down to his lower back (he puts it in a low ponytail most of the time for combat reasons.)

-He’s both Japanese and Chinese!

-Demiromantic/sexual and omnisexual!!

-Looked up to Nya as a mother figure when he was little, and still does. He loves misako so very much, but resents her deep down.

-Has a little stubble in DR, kinda canon but whatevs.

-Has a pretty good singing voice, but only really does it in private.

-Outside of his Gi, the clothes he usually wears is just a jacket, a t-shirt and jeans 😭 he has like 15 jackets in his closet (he’s just like me fr)

-Has scars like all over his body, and some on his face from like the millions of battles he’s been in.

-He’s a little chubby, but has pretty muscular arms (🤭)

-Lloyd has like small non-human features that nod to the fact that he’s half oni and dragon.

-Like pointy ears, sharp teeth, and slitted pupils.

-Still has an adoration for candy.

-Every once in awhile, he still heads to Ninjago Doomsday Comix to buy a new issue of a comic he likes.

-He would probably enjoy music like Radiohead or some other sad stereotypical man music.

A/N: I can’t think of much else but I hope you guys enjoyed these!! I’ll write at my own pace for a little bit and then I’ll open requests. I gotta make a carrd sometime soon lmfao 😭

( @weirdotaku1000 these are the hcs I was working on!!)

[bonefall]

Do you think the clan cats having less kits per litter/less litters in general (they already have less kits than real cats) would fix the bloated cast issue? Because I look at Ginga and the cast is also bloated and only a few characters have offspring but the author keeps making other dogs join Ohu and refuses to kill the old as fuck dogs

I don't think there's any one particular "solution" for stopping bloat in series that manage large casts through generations like Ginga or WC, it's actually a few things

The #1 MOST important thing I think about bloat, though, is that it's about a ratio of quality to quantity. NOT raw size.

A long while back I made a couple of allegiance lists for certain eras. In spite of my Clans having the same (or even higher!) population as canon, I NEVER struggled with those lists being bloated. If anything, sometimes if a Clan's below 30, they look too small.

(I'm sure you can find those lists if you look, they're probably tagged BB!Allegiance, but they might be a bit out of date)

That's because in BB, there's dozens of HUGE cultural additions to Clan life. In "administration," alone, there's 3 new major divisions of skills (hunting, cooking, construction) ALL with their own "head" of that patrol, plus canon's leader, deputy, and Cleric. Not to mention subtitles like the Educator and maybe a Chaperone/Permaqueen!

So to bring it back to that "Ratio Theory," If our Clan is 30 cats, those 8 major roles immediately give at least a slight amount of character to a little over 25% of our group, with each role being something that the other 75% of cats can desire and compete for.

Canon's measly 3 is 10%, and you can ONLY vy for deputyship if you want any power. There's nothing else to BE ambitious about.

You can make the ratio higher by having hobbies, drama, skills, arts, etc. Basically; characterize background characters! Which should be obvious!! Give them traits that are useful and interesting and show the community being valuable.

It won't feel like "bloat," it has the sense of communities living their lives. Even if they go quiet for a while, when they return (just look at how much people like seeing Sedgecreek or Hallowflight mentioned lmao) it feels like meeting an old friend again.

WAYS TO MAKE BLOAT FEEL WORSE;

Giving too many "opportunities" to old characters.

Think of every relevant role a cat gets as a meal, and the bigger the role the more they've eaten. If you're only giving value to your old fanfavs, you're not doing much for them because they're already full while the rest of your cast starves.

Haphazardly killing off characters.

I actually strongly resent the "trend" where people conflate good storytelling with an author's willingness to suddenly kill characters off. I think it comes from the same place as needing to "outsmart" your audience.

If you kill off a character with VALUE, an unfinished arc, interesting connections, it's just unsatisfying. The Erins have this problem of killing background characters with some established lore or value (like Harelight and Briarlight) while leaving uninteresting background nobodies behind that they never build back up.

Before killing a character, ask yourself what their role in the cast is, and their dynamic with others. Try not to axe them without a plan to fill that "role" and/or comment on their absence. Replace what you take.

EASY REPLACABILITY

This one is HUGE, this is why Ginga is so bad with this. If a bunch of dogs die, 100 random soldiers can replace them from somewhere. That is REALLY bad, because all the random influxes of new characters do not have a chance to replace what was lost.

It also makes death feel cheaper. Oh no! Background dog 7446 got eaten by the newest type of bear. This won't make battles harder to win or cause us to lose any valuable skills though. Also a new dog just walked in from offscreen.

Population Growth outpaces Death Rate

AKA your cast is growing too fast and you're not getting rid of old characters. This is what anon was asking about-- and it CAN help to make births less frequent and litters smaller. Make sure to pair with preventing lots of new, adult characters to casually wander in, too.

ALL of these tips have exceptions and places where they can (and should) be subverted and broken. But these are just things I think about

[herrscherofinsanity]

Unsaid Things

Summary: What begins as a seemingly harmless disagreement erupts into a heated argument, leaving the echoes of hurtful words and unspoken frustrations lingering in the air.

Angst with a happy ending

Yu Jimin (Karina) x reader

Word count: 1.8k

____________________

The evening began like any other, the air tinged with the familiar warmth of shared laughter and whispered confessions. Yet, a seemingly innocent comment sparked the flames of disagreement—a spark that would soon grow into an uncontrollable blaze.

It started with a difference of opinion, a harmless clash that swiftly escalated into a battle neither of you anticipated. The room, once filled with the gentle hum of love, became a battleground for unspoken frustrations and hurtful words.

"You never listen, y/n!" Jimin's frustration spilled into the room, her voice edged with an anger that cut through the air.

Feeling the sting of accusation, you retorted with equal fervor. "Maybe if you weren't so stubborn, we could have a real conversation!"

The exchange of words, initially measured, began to escalate. The disagreement, no longer confined to the topic at hand, morphed into a barrage of hurtful comments, each word a dagger tearing at the fragile fabric of your relationship.

The laughter that once echoed off the walls now lay buried beneath the weight of resentment. Voices, once tender in the exchange of affection, grew louder, drowning in the rising tide of frustration.

Jimin's eyes, once a wellspring of love, were now stormy with emotions. "You're impossible, y/n! I can't do this anymore!"

You felt your whole world stopping, the ground beneath you began to crumble, you immediately shot back, "Maybe I'm better off without someone who can't appreciate what they have!"

The words hung in the air, a testament to the depth of your pain. The silence that followed was deafening, a vacuum filled with regret and the lingering scent of an emotional battlefield. Jimin’s eyes began to well up with tears, her ragged breathing catching you off guard.

“If that’s what you want, fine. I don’t want to keep putting up with you, enough is enough”.

_____________________

Days passed, the apartment that once housed your love now felt empty, haunted by the ghosts of unspoken regrets. Each passing moment etched the harshness of your words into your hearts, the weight of the argument heavy on your shoulders.

Jimin, who once found solace in your embrace, now sought refuge in the solitude of her thoughts. You, nursing wounds both seen and unseen, distanced yourself in an attempt to shield your heart from further pain.

In the quiet of your individual spaces, the realization of what had transpired began to settle. The words you had hurled in the heat of the moment now echoed as a painful reminder of the fragility of your love. Was this it? Three years building something you had thought would last a lifetime, up and gone just like that.

As the initial storm of anger subsided, a new storm brewed—a storm of regret, longing, and an overwhelming need to bridge the emotional chasm that had formed between the two of you. Your mind was plagued with thoughts of Jimin, was she as hurt as you were? Did she miss you as much as you missed her?

Jimin always claimed you were her world. How was she doing now that “her world” hadn’t spoken to her in weeks? Was she moving on or was she struggling as much as you were?

Truth is, you were feeling lost without your girlfriend; but how was she doing? You couldn’t help but feel worried. Had she been eating well? Was she getting enough sleep? Was she properly taking care of herself? You were dying to at least send her a quick text, but your pride stood in the way. Surely if Jimin wanted to talk to you she would’ve done so by now, why should you be the one to apologize when she was the one who started the argument?

And with that in mind, weeks went by.

____________________

Jimin's best friend, Minjeong, watched from the sidelines, torn between loyalty to Jimin and the ache of seeing you struggle. She knew the depth of your connection and understood that the silence that now filled the apartment echoed a shared pain.

Unable to bear witness to your suffering any longer, Minjeong decided to intervene. She knew that pride, no matter how well-intentioned, could be the greatest obstacle to love. And so, armed with a determination to mend what seemed irreparable, Minjeong set in motion a plan to bring you and Jimin back from the brink of a love lost to silence.

Days passed in the heavy silence that now permeated Jimin's apartment. Unable to bear the weight of the unresolved tension, you found yourself agreeing to meet Minjeong for coffee, hoping for a semblance of solace in the midst of the emotional turmoil.

The cafe was a refuge of soft chatter and the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee. You sat across from Minjeong; the air thick with the unspoken burden that had settled between you.

Minjeong, with a determined yet gentle expression, broke the silence. "y/n, I can't stand seeing both of you like this. The apartment feels like it's suffocating under the weight of whatever it is that you two left behind."

You sighed, a mixture of weariness and longing in your eyes. "I don't know what to do, Minjeong. It's like we've hit a wall, and I can't see a way through it."

Minjeong nodded, empathizing with the complexity of the situation. "Jimin cares about you more than anything. You two have been through so much together. I hate seeing that history overshadowed by a single disagreement."

"I hate it too," you admitted, the vulnerability of the situation laid bare. "But every time I think about reaching out, I can't shake the feeling that it might make things worse."

Minjeong leaned in, her gaze sincere. "Sometimes, taking the first step is the hardest, but it's also the most courageous. I know Jimin. She's hurting, probably more than she's letting on. But she loves you, y/n, and I believe you can work through this if you're willing to try."

You stared into the depths of the coffee cup sitting in front of you, contemplating Minjeong's words. The realization of the potential loss weighed heavily in your heart. "I don't want to lose her, Minjeong. But every time I think about picking up the phone, my pride gets in the way."

Minjeong's eyes softened, understanding the intricacies of pride and love. "It's okay to be scared. It's okay to be unsure. But consider what you might gain by trying. Regret is a heavier burden than the fear of vulnerability."

Silence hung in the air, the weight of Minjeong's words settling between you. Torn between fear and longing, you felt a stirring of resolve.

"I miss her," you confessed, your voice tinged with a mix of sadness and longing.

Minjeong smiled, offering your hand a supportive squeeze. "Then, go to her. Break the silence. Sometimes, all it takes is one person to start the journey back to each other."

As you left the cafe, Minjeong watched, hoping that the seeds of reconciliation had been planted.

____________________

With Minjeong's words lingering in your mind, you found yourself standing outside Jimin's apartment, hesitating before pressing the doorbell. The seconds that followed felt like an eternity until the door opened, revealing Jimin, her eyes reflecting the same pain you had been carrying.

"I miss you," Jimin whispered, her voice barely audible.

You nodded, tears glistening in your eyes. "I miss us."

The apartment was bathed in the soft glow of city lights as you two navigated the delicate terrain of healing. The air felt charged with the weight of unspoken apologies and a shared desperation to mend what seemed irreparably broken.

Jimin, her usually confident demeanor stripped away, sat on the edge of the couch, eyes fixed on the floor. You stood a few steps away, feeling the gravity of the moment—the make-or-break point of your relationship.

"I never meant for it to get this far," Jimin admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I let my pride cloud everything, and I pushed you away."

You nodded, a mix of sadness and understanding in your eyes. "I should have reached out too. I let the hurt fester instead of trying to fix this."

The silence lingered, a tangible reminder of the unspoken words that had driven you apart. In that moment, your eyes met, and for the first time in days, the wall of pride crumbled. You felt your heart clench at the sight of Jimin, a shadow of her usual self, but still able to make you feel so much with a mere look. You can’t lose her, not now, not ever.

"I'm scared," Jimin confessed, her gaze now locked with yours. "Scared that I've pushed you too far."

You took a tentative step forward, closing the physical and emotional gap between you and your girlfriend. "I'm scared too, Jimin. Scared that we might lose what we have."

As the honesty hung in the air, you found yourselves standing on the precipice of a choice—to let fear dictate the future or to confront it head-on. Slowly, you extended a hand, a silent invitation for Jimin to bridge the distance between you.

Jimin looked at the offered hand, hesitation and hope flickering in her eyes. With a deep breath, she reached out, your fingers intertwining—a simple gesture laden with the weight of reconciliation.

Jimin sighed at the contact, a small smile playing at her lips as she stared at your intertwined hands. God, she missed you so much.

"I love you," you whispered, the words a balm to the wounds that had festered for too long.

Jimin nodded, her eyes reflecting a mix of relief and gratitude. "I love you too, more than anything."

The emotional dam finally broke, and you embraced, a tight hug that conveyed more than words ever could. Tears, both of sorrow and relief, were shed, and in that shared vulnerability, you found the strength to rebuild what you thought had been lost.

As you sat together on the couch, hand in hand, you talked. About the hurt, the insecurities, and the shared dreams that had momentarily been forgotten. Listening with open hearts, forging a promise to communicate, to understand, and to never let pride overshadow your love again.

In the end, your home, once shrouded in silence, echoed with laughter and the gentle whispers of a love that had weathered the storm. You and Jimin emerged from the depths of conflict not unscathed, but stronger—armed with the wisdom that vulnerability is not a weakness but a powerful catalyst for healing and growth.

As the city outside continued its rhythmic hum, you rediscovered the melody of your shared love, each note a testament to the resilience of their bond. In the quiet of the night, you found solace in the understanding that love, when nurtured with honesty and forgiveness, could withstand even the most tumultuous storms.

____________________

A/N: Hi, happy new year to all of you! I spent the entirety of the winter break sick, so I didn't get as much done as I would've liked, but I still have a lot a want to share here with you guys. I'll be uploading stuff during the weekend, hopefully I don't forget to do so.

Anyway, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this! I went for a happy ending because I don't like hurting myself so yeah.

[paper-mario-wiki]

I feel like I've ended up in the same spot as so transmasc before me: I have a lovely cis boyfriend who loves my tits which I love for him, but I am getting dysphoric to the point I wanna lift my lips and show a lil teeth when I see his hands coming towards them. Feels bad because they are his favorite and we haven't been fucking as much because as soon as he starts touching me I am out of it™ and get all in my head and freeze up. Any advice?

good god, brother. i am utterly baffled at why you have elected me as the strategist for this problem, and i'm even more confused as to why you have chosen to go into as much detail as you have.

but.

if i were to give you some advice on this

i'd say that you should consider a conversation with your partner about the long-term plan for the relationship. a "relationship" is two lives that are connected, right? and your life is not one where you're gonna have boobs for the rest of it (or at least based on what you've told me i would assume, should you have your way, those bad boys are gettin lopped off at some point), therefore it's pertinent that it be brought up, because it concerns your life, therefore it concerns the relationship, therefore it concerns him, yes?

now, the first and most obvious thing to start with out the gate is the boundary, made clear and concise: the hills are now closed, off limits to tourists. all discussions regarding this come next. make it clear that it's about something quite core to your identity, and something that does in fact cause physical pain (a panic response from the nervous system is pain homie).

this brings some followup questions (and remember, this isn't an interrogation, it's a dialogue to share): how does he feel about this? if he's against, why? for that matter, how much does it bother him? is there something he doesn't understand about your discomfort? is there some concern he has about your financial or bodily well-being with regards to the procedure? is it because it's vital to his attraction to you as a partner? if that's the case, would their removal be a deal-breaker?

now keep in mind, these question can be brought up whether or not you've got immediate plans to engage in the aforementioned lopping-off of your aforementioned Bad Boys, because the actual point of this dialectical exercise is to create a simple, easy to navigate, easy to understand conversation, which will set a foundation for further negotiations-- should you learn something new about each other, or yourselves, or the relationship as a whole.

either way, i do not think that letting it keep happening and keeping it to yourself is a good idea. i can understand feeling guilty about withholding some physical and emotional gratification you could give "easily" to this person you care dearly for, but trust me when i say that it's not the way to let it be. not just because it's unfair to your partner to secretly grow to resent them for a reason you don't want to vocalize, but to yourself as well.

you may not know it, but by keeping it to yourself you're slowly building up a resentment. that frustration actually shows up pretty clearly in your message. and even if what you're frustrated about is only that particular activity, that activity is irrevocably tied to another person. specifically, a person that you consider to be a pretty central pillar in your life. if that resentment grows, it can evolve into anger, hatred, fear, paranoia, and all sorts of nasty things. and even aside from the emotional and psychological damage that can do, it can grow into a physiological issue, where your brain wears out more and more due to the growing emotional distress ripping through your neurons with all sorts of "emergency" chemicals. like i said, the panic response is a physical pain, even if your body doesn't feel like it "hurts".

so. to summarize.

ABSOLUTELY bring it up. if you don't, it could become damaging to your relationship, and also your actual real life physical brain.

when you do bring it up, remember that the goals are to set a boundary, and to reach an understanding through mutual conversation. it's a dialogue, not a lecture.

when you reach an understanding, figure out if the relationship needs to be renegotiated in some way. that usually means new boundaries, or expectations. or maybe nothing! though surely your boyfriend can find more things to love about you.

that's as best as i can muster. you don't have to follow it, but hopefully it'll at least give you some ideas you can use.

[lauraneedstochill]

I debated whether I should keep my opinion on EP3 in the comments to @st-eve-barnes post (she made some good arguments btw!) but I guess I’m out of fucks to give. just like the HOTD scriptwriters ✌

big fat disclaimer: I sincerely can’t say a single bad thing about Ewan. his acting was absolutely amazing, he owned the scene, and it’s pretty clear he doesn’t have a problem with nudity (if you watched “High Life”, you know what I’m talking about; if you didn’t, please read the warnings before watching).

my problem is with everything leading up to the brothel scene with Aegon — because this is NOT how you write conflict, and because it could’ve hit way harder if only it was done PROPERLY. unsurprisingly, it started in EP2:

➡ the fact that we got absolutely no reaction to B&C from Aemond is a joke. I’ve read some people saying “well, Jaehaerys isn’t his son so why would he care” — sure, Aemond wasn’t competing to win the uncle of the year award. BUT you are telling me he wouldn’t simply be pissed about the fact that a couple of nobodies managed to sneak into the supposedly well-guarded castle and kill a Targaryen like it’s no big deal? that they dared to put a knife to Helaena’s neck, that they clearly could’ve done worse things to her? that they left a mess in his room, touched his stuff? you mean Aemond, who is definitely an annoying perfectionist who puts every thing in its specific place, Aemond who’s extremely arrogant about being the best warrior, the biggest defender, the mister-know-it-all, Aemond who clearly has anger issues — HE wouldn’t be fuming on the inside? HE wouldn’t rush to the small council meeting to know all the details? HE wouldn’t volunteer to help Aegon murder the ones responsible? it’s a pity everyone’s forgotten S1 Aemond but I have NOT.

➡ I won’t talk much about the brothel scene in EP2 (@pygmyharmoset analyzed it really well) but I will say that to me it felt very disconnected from the main plotline. yet again, there is NO ! BUILD UP ! was it so hard to at least show Aemond leaving? to let us know what mood he was in (was he agitated? fidgeting? when exactly he decided to leave? did something trigger it?). they could’ve cut out the moment of his arrival so we wouldn’t know where he was going to have the big shocking reveal later when he’s suddenly with Sylvi, all naked and vulnerable. it would’ve only taken an additional MINUTE of screentime!

➡ now, to the worst of it — and I really want you to think over what I’m about to say:

people are allowed to grieve in their own way. not everyone is lucky to have all the right tools to process trauma.

did Aegon treat Aemond poorly? was he mean and cruel to his younger brother? yes. yes, he was (newsflash: there are no good people in this show. hope this helps).

BUT

was Aegon’s child killed because of a mistake Aemond made? is it possible that Aegon’s been harboring his resentment, that the absence of Aemond in that tragic, pivotal moment in their lives hurt him? the answer is also YES. Aegon doesn’t know how and has never seen how to cope with emotions in a healthy way, and it’s not in his power to break the cycle so he keeps repeating all the same mistakes. that’s the tragedy of it and that’s the ticking bomb planted under the foundation of their relationship.

the tragedy of that dumbass writing we’ve been presented with is that we did not see their conflict take root. we DID NOT get to see how their discontent kept growing, how they both felt caged and dissatisfied with their circumstances (Aegon realizes no one wants him on the throne and he feels helpless, Aemond is constantly being denied the chance to prove himself so he also feels helpless) — and how eventually that anger they couldn’t channel into anything else made them lash out at each other.

my first thought after watching EP3 was that there’s gotta be a scene missing between the small council meeting and the brothel scene. there SHOULD’VE been a scene with just Aegon and Aemond, they had all the reasons and opportunities for it! here, think about this:

Aemond’s comment at the end of the meeting comes off as patronizing (“It’s a brave thought” — Aemond is forbidden to leave with Vhagar so he’s glad that Aegon has to sit back, too). Aegon insists that he’s just “as fearsome”; but the thing is, he isn’t sure of it, so of course Aemond’s words stay with him, nibble at him, and it would only take a cup or two for him to get heated about it. he calls Aemond to his chambers and brings back the topic — “You don’t deem me brave, brother? You do not think I’d fight just as hard?”. it’s only the two of them, Aegon is in full armor, standing on his little wooden stool, a cup in his hands. and because he is hurting, he wants to hurt Aemond in return. so he gets off the stool and comes closer to him, sneering, “You are, no doubt, a fierce warrior,” — but then the smile falls off his face, and his voice gets quiet, pained, searing, “So tell me, where were you when my son was being murdered? I came to learn that they were looking for you, were they not? Oh, you would’ve fought them off with ease, for sure. So where were you, huh?”

and then you get the tension breaking, the emotions erupting — and, most importantly, the CONFLICT. Aegon throws the cup away, darts to Aemond, grabs him by his clothes (remember how desperately he held his face in EP9 of S1? the parallel would’ve been so beautiful !), finally screaming “Have you any idea what you’ve done? WHAT IT COST US?” — and now he isn’t talking about B&C but about Luke too. only, we’ve seen the extent of Aemond’s guilt and he isn’t about to show it now, taken aback by Aegon’s outburst, so instead of taking the blame, Aemond does what he knows best — he attacks him in return. they throw accusations at each other: Aemond reminds Aegon he was getting drunk, he himself didn’t do anything to be there for his family, he didn’t even do anything to deserve being on the throne. it’s nasty, it’s a shouting match, Aegon’s buddies eventually have to come in to pull them away from each other.

and it’s no surprise that Aegon goes back to drinking after that. and Aemond, overwhelmed and in disarray, goes back to the only place that can grant him comfort. so when Aegon finds him there and dares to humiliate him publicly and rob him of that illusion of comfort — that’s when something switches in Aemond. that’s when he decides he’s not a loyal dog anymore.

and that is, in my humble and very subjective opinion, how you properly bring someone’s temper to a boiling point. if only Ryan Condal ever cared, HA.

[superbat-lmao]

Give me a fic where all of the batsiblings are thrown back in time but think they’ve been sent to an alternate universe because everyone is acting differently except Bruce, who really is the original version of Bruce.

It’s just before Ethiopia, Jason is holding a phone that’s already making a call. This time, Dick picks up and Jason spends all his time in this universe (timeline) wondering if Dick had just picked up if his own time would have gone differently.

Dick picks up and realizes his brother doesn’t have to die, that he wouldn’t have to become the Red Hood.

Both of their interactions with each other and Bruce and Alfred throw each other off because they’re trying to act like they don’t have future knowledge while being wildly weirded out by this alternate universe’s version of their sibling.

Cut to, Tim orchestrating how to meet Steph, Dick figuring out how to get Damian, Jason figuring out how to get Tim, Duke and Steph teaming up and Damian and Cass tracking each other down before being ultimately tracked down by Babs and Dick.

It’s a slow roll of chaos that steadily confuses Bruce and Alfred as more and more children come into the fold and they try and accumulate each other without giving away the fact that they’re “from a different universe” or letting any of the siblings realize that they have knowledge of each other from that other timeline.

Everyone but Dick and Babs is still a child and have varying degrees of training which makes most of them groan at having to relearn/regain their skill and muscle. But they’re all still letting themselves be the ages they are because none of them know the others would realize they’re actually adults/older and judge them for reliving their childhoods.

Jason has to pick a new hero name and reassess his fighting style and whether he wants to keep using guns. He doesn’t have the pit influence, this Bruce hasn’t made the mistakes his version did, and he doesn’t have to let history repeat itself. He also doesn’t get the same build he used to have and the childhood malnutrition really does keep its effects.

Tim and Damian get their own shock of being given the Robin mantle willingly. It’s easier the second time and Steph and Cass both get to think through the legacy of Batgirl and their own hero personas. Duke still has his parents, and eventually, his day job that comes without some of the prerequisite grief of joining the bat family.

But each time something occurs where the siblings get suspicious, they write it off as being a weird alt-universe.

I want to see Bruce and Dick patch up their relationship, for Bruce and Jason to actually talk about their emotions without being clouded by anger, for Bruce to accept Tim and Steph and Damian and Babs and Cass and Duke, to build several bridges without the loss of a child clouding his judgement. For Dick and Jason to finally have a shot at being brothers without resentment, for Jason and Tim to be brothers without jealousy, for Tim and Damian to be brothers without resentment/jealousy. For Steph and Babs to not doubt their places and for Cass to be the only one that suspects since she can read them all trying to hide something but also knowing that if none of them realize they all already know each other they will have room to grow in ways they hadn’t. For Duke to be able to be a part of something incredibly special while still getting to keep his family like Steph does.

I want Bruce and Alfred to just kinda, learn to accept the chaos. To write it off as their special brand of chaotic family and not some sort of secret being hid from them.

[kradogsrats]

This might be spoilers for what happens later in your Lissa centric fic but do you ever see Sarai as a better leader than Harrow was in Canon?

Interesting question! I feel like when a lot of the fandom looks at Sarai, they see her anti-dark magic stance and challenge of Harrow's characterization of the magma titan as a "monster" as her most prominent character moments and interpret that as her primary character trait being compassion for all people and creatures, like a fully-matured version of "incapable of killing" Rayla.

Which like... fair! The series goes out of its way to associate them, two characters who will never meet, to the point of Rayla repeating Sarai's lines. Also "Does it think? Does it feel? Does it have a family? Is it the last of its kind?" is a real banger, hitting right at the one of the deepest core themes of the story, so it's not surprising that it's what stays in everyone's head. But the really important line for understanding her as queen in relation to Harrow as king is later in the scene: "You said you want to build a better world, to really change things, but that's going to take decades of hard work. There's no monster you can slay and solve all your problems." The novel has an additional sentence in there to reinforce the point: "There's a special kind of courage that you need for consistency and perseverance."

Both Harrow and Sarai are interested in systemic change. The novel describes them as having had "long, late-night discussions" during which they planned how they were going to solve the problems they identified. (All of this kind of says something about King Atticus, too.) However, she self-describes in narration as an "optimistic realist" to Harrow's "idealist." She believes that as king and queen, they can change the world—but it may take a lifetime, and will involve a lot of hard decisions.

Really, I think the key difference between them is life experience. Sarai married Damian and chose to have a child with him, fully knowing that he almost definitely wouldn't live to see that child grow up. Harrow, when they meet, has probably never had a serious relationship. Sarai comes from a military background (IMO), so she has both given and taken orders she might not fully agree with—something we see from her accompanying Harrow on the mission. She made her case to him, he made his decision, and she follows through on that decision without a single complaint, even though we know it's one she dislikes. Harrow, as he knows, was born a prince—for all his training, it's unlikely anyone gave him orders, and they probably took his opinion as having more weight. He's somewhat aware of his privilege compared to most of his subjects, and kind of overcompensates with his ideas of compassion and servitude.

Not to go all American politics on everyone, but it's kind of the same misunderstanding a lot of liberals have about the presidency—if we can just get the right person into that seat, they'll be able to tell everyone that [insert social policy] and it'll happen. The reality, as Sarai knows, is that big changes takes years of lobbying, boots-on-the-ground activism, and lots of little changes that still require fighting tooth and nail to get them done. She's absolutely right that it takes a special kind of courage to do that work and keep doing it without falling into despair and resentment. You also have to know how to pick your battles, something that Harrow is definitely not used to doing.

Ultimately I do think Sarai would probably be more successful than Harrow was as sole ruler, if that was a situation that somehow occurred, BUT it's important that she never denigrates Harrow's idealism or thinks of him as naive. I think she values it, and loves him for it—for things like "reject history as a narrative of strength, and instead have faith that it can be a narrative of love," which is 100% pure Harrow. Like Harrow believes she makes him better, I think she believes that he makes her better. Sarai's more effective but Harrow's more inspirational. So, idk... make of that what you will.

[rottenpumpkin13]

Does Genesis go on a diet after Angeal comments how tiny Sephiroth's waist is?

CW: Body image/body issues

It'll take a lot more than a comment from Angeal to get Genesis Rhapsodos to give up his overpriced coffee—that's 80% sugar—and the handfuls of Red Hots he eats when he's nose-deep in a novel.

Genesis pledged to never again alter his meals to conform to a certain goal ever again. As a child, Hollander crafted dietary plans for him, urging him to "gain a little weight" or "bulk up like the other boys his age," all which made Genesis' frail, "bony" eight-year-old body fill with rage. He sought to cherish and take pride in his body as he matured. Plus, puberty did a number on his height and muscle gain, so why should he feel inferior?

His body both exuded an ambiguous allure when shrouded in layers, and a masculine strength when they were shed—which was just the image SOLDIER wanted from its newly recruited Thirds.

He spent the majority of the war and his youth fixated on becoming a hero, becoming known, building a reputation that everyone would remember. The way all the boys around him seemed to grow in height and weight while he stayed stagnant didn't bother him until he and Angeal were promoted to Second Class, and Sephiroth came along.

Genesis pretended it didn't bother him that Sephiroth and Angeal were the same height. He feigned indifference when Sephiroth complained of growing pains, or how his own arms looked like twigs compared to Angeal's. Admitting to insecurities would be showing weakness—a notion utterly inconceivable to him. He was not weak, no matter what stories his physique told to others.

But Sephiroth's physical perfection tormented him. Genesis couldn't fathom how someone could be so immaculately perfect. One could compose sonnets about Sephiroth's muscle definition, write articles praising the width of his shoulders, and spend hours marveling at his perfectly slender waist.

Nights were spent on Genesis' behalf, choking down envy so that he didn't throw it back up. His waist would never look like that—not without the rest of his body thinning out too.

Sephiroth towered over everyone, and with that long hair of a color that was impossible to replicate with dye, it was like the goddess herself her crafted him from the flesh of the lamb men sacrificed to keep beauty in the world.

And it drove Genesis absolutely mad. Because devoted like he was, he would sacrifice himself on an altar to keep the goddess happy and have everything he could ever want, yet all she granted him was illness and a body that the magazines and articles constantly compared to Sephiroth's.

Honestly, he was grateful when he was promoted to First Class and had the liberty of accentuating his uniform with personal details. He could do anything he wanted, show as much skin and wear the fabric as tight as he pleased.

Yet he couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't bear the prospect of standing next to his friend, looking "almost like Sephiroth, but not quite right"

The red leather coat was perfect. It was snug enough in the arms to make his muscle definition visible, bright and captivating to make him stand out, and its shape kept his body ambiguous, inviting positive speculation. It gave him the freedom of not having to worry what his body looked like in public all the time. He was a good actor, great at acting like his own body didn't bother him, and even better at acting like the mere mention of Sephiroth's physical perfection wasn't enough to make the resentment in his heart send him into cardiac arrest.

So to answer your question, he does go on a diet—a mental diet of jealousy, where every meal is bitter, unfulfilling and the end result will surely make him rot.

[thesweetestdevotion]

Could you do Enhypen jay as a husband??

Enhypen Jay as a Husband:

Dice: Cancer, Jupiter, 8th House

Tarot: Four of Wands, Eight of Coins Reversed, Six of Wands, Eight of Cups Reversed, The Lovers, Seven of Coins, Page of Swords, King of Cups, Strength, Four of Coins Reversed

Oh my my. He’s a total lover boy. I think he’d really enjoy being a husband lol. It’s like he sees it as a goal to work towards, but he also doesn’t hold on to the idea too much, he thinks its something he’d like to do but only if it feels right. he’s not gonna marry just for the sake of being married, he wants someone he really loves and also someone that will help build a new life with him. He literally got so many ‘romance’ cards its insane! He’d be very energetic and loving, and also put in a lot of work towards the relationship. He might even being to neglect other parts of his life because he’s so focused on it. I think he likes partnership and wants that traditional stuff like building/finding a house together, working towards similar goals, growing, etc… He’s like extremely in tune with his own emotions and this also gives him the ability to be in tune with his partners. Im trying to see if there is any downsides or if he would show toxic traits but… i just don’t see it! He’s that perfect husband type its so refreshing. I do think he might have outdated ideas in some places, but i see with the page of wands an eagerness to learn how to make it work with his person if that is ever an issues. I think he idolizes marriage to an extent, its sort of part of his ideal life. He craves the meshing of souls that happens in deep intimate commitments. I think he also wants a soft place to come home to, he might really like domesticity and admire people who have those nurturing traits. He wants the ideal marriage, one where they dont have secrets or resentments and they’re able to co-create a beautiful life as they wish. It’s a common theme in many marriage/fs readings but i do see he might take a step away from his usual work, there would be a shifting of priorities here. He’s like working hard now in order to get to a place where his relationship can be his main focus. he could be prone to codependency lol but, depending on his partner, it could be a good thing for him. He’s just a generally energetic person and when he’s excited or happy about something he puts his all into it. Idk he’s just very nice every time i read for him lol! I do see he might be dissatisfied?? Or just resigned in some way. Maybe deep down he feels like his dream is impossible, i think he could hear a lot of negative things about marriage and this might get him down. he might feel like he’s too emotional or delusional about it and its possible he keeps a lot of this info hidden from others. He’s a very sensitive man in a world where those traits are not acceptable in masculinity, so he def keeps a lid on all of this sadly, he also may feel rejected in many ways. Maybe the romantic opportunities he’s had so far have been dissatisfactory and disappointing so he often thinks about how its could be difficult to even find a partner willing to be with him. There’s a slight pessimism but his feelings towards marriage are still very positive. Like i said he feels very dreamy, emotional, sweet, optimistic about the future. I hope all his dreams come true <3

Hope you guys like it!! Xoxo

[cringefail-clown]

I'm so fucking invested in your turnabout au I'm going to explode please just like ramble if you up to it

hoo boy lets do it

so atm my favourite part of the au to think about is post scratch bro and his relationship with hal, post scratch roxy and what dave would think about him. like for example i don't think he'd be this big superstar like post scratch dave was in canon, his work against the condence would be much more subtle. i imagine him working much more closely with roxy and grandpa jake - its not clear in canon how much dave, rose and jade collaborated together, they for sure were in contact, but its honestly up to interpretation. those three in the au would probably work very closely together, maybe roxy and dirk could help jake with building up skaianet - dirk as an engineer and rox as a programmer. they'd also have their own gigs on the side, roxy would sure as hell hijack crocercorp with malware every chance she got, and dirk would have some obscure websites that'd spread propaganda against condence under the veil of weird puppet stuff and insane chatbots. he'd probably write some kind of this universes detective pony parody book and get it published and it'd become one of the most recognisable pieces of literature documenting the takeover of the troll empire and the rebellion against it

(some quick designs of hal and bro i pulled outta my ass)

honestly he'd probably become some sort of vigilante batman-esque figure in this universe?? he'd show up unexpected, blow some crockercorp warehouses and disappear into the night. and after hal joins him when he builds him a body the media would paint them as some sort of twin antiheroes lmfao

oh man and hal. it'd go simialrly as it was in canon, dirk would fuck around and copy his brain at a young age and they'd HATE each other at first. like dirk would feel responsible for creating hal, and hal would resent the shit outta him - like how dare he be the one who gets to keep the body and hal must be stuck in a pair of glasses, trapped with no means of escaping? but they'd start working together when they find out about dave and the future to ensure their lil bro has the best chances of survival, and in time they'd bond over it and their shared work against condy. they'd come up with a plan so that hal goes into sleep mode until the arrival of the meteor (bc no way in hell dirk would make hal go through hundreds of years of lonely existance, watching as humanity slowly ceases to exist and unable to do anything about it, he'd go nuts).

and the day finally comes when dirk would have to go face the batterwitch so he'd put hal in the apartment and they would tell each other one last goodbye and dirk would put hal in the sleep mode. and hal would wake up like only seconds passed, not years upon years, only the vast ocean streching as far as his eyes could see behind the dirty, dusty windows, and he'd know his one brother is long dead, gone while facing the enemy he was destined to lose against but had to do it anyway, and the other one moments from crashing into the waters below on a meteor sent by some insane video game that creates new universes. he'd sit there for a while, reality slowly sinking in, and he'd probably desperatly wish like he hasn't in years, to be human again and to mourn his losses the human way, because as advanced as his robotic body was he haven't thought about updating it with some goddamn tearducks.

on a lighter note, imagine dirk crunching numbers for three days straight to figure out how much food he'd have to stock in the apartment to make sure dave doesn't grow up malnourished, desperately googling "how much calories does an *insert age* year old need". he'd be banned from every supermarket in at least two states. he would walk into the store and employees would start weeping at the sight of him. i think about it a lot