#and then possibly murder whoever made you that mad-

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Squid Game AU | Idia Shroud

Working for a secret organization that murdered its players on a massive scale wasn’t as horrifying as it sounds. Granted, it was truly mortifying but you get used to it. You don’t show your face, you don’t flinch, and you listen to the Frontman. If you keep quiet and stay in your lane it isn’t long before you start moving up the ladder. From triangle to circle to square–it was like any other job. Like in any typical occupation if your boss, finds favor in your physique or otherwise you naturally get promoted. Thus was your fate as you went from being a mere circle to becoming the masked servant in the VIP room where you subject yourself to the whims of the richest and most disgusting patrons.

Idia Shroud 

Not many had the privilege of seeing the identity of the Host but you weren’t a part of the many. He was a technical genius, an avid inventor, and the one who loved to switch between his position as the Host and Frontman: Idia Shroud.

Now that you knew the joyful tilde in the disguised voice was made with a toothy smile of a gamer with azure flame-like hair; it made a disturbing amount of sense. No longer could you differentiate the man from his madness when he demanded you call his name in private. 

When you first met him he gave an odd aura, speaking as though he was imitating someone or making fun of whoever he was talking to. It made for an interesting work environment, he would make oddly specific references as he commanded the squares who could only tilt their heads and agree. Usually, you’d practiced your stoicism keeping yourself as robotlike as possible. 

But one meme. 

One reference. 

That has you chuckling and answering the Frontman, who seemed to freeze behind his mask still turned in your direction. He continues on acting as if nothing happened and you worry that you may have embarrassed yourself in front of your boss. Only to be broken out of your routine by one of the squares who handed you folded clothes and gave you instructions to begin your job as a VIP waiter. 

So maybe he did like it?

“You’re the new waiter, right?”

You nodded. 

“Good. You like it, here?”

“...Yes.”

“Good.”

The interaction was so curt and quick that you missed the skip in his step. It doesn’t take long for you to realize whoever is behind the frontman’s mask is also the one pretending to dress up as whatever shape employee you need to interact with. At that point, it makes you tirelessly paranoid as you feel the possible pressure of your boss constantly watching you.

And while you think you might have hidden your fear behind your masks, guess who’s got heavy surveillance on your room? He sees the way you pace on your time off and the recordings of you whispering affirmations in the bathroom. He enjoys seeing your cute reactions when he scares you a bit or how you tilt your head when you're trying to guess if it's him. But he loves you more. And if his kitten is feeling skittish he’ll change your environment. 

“You. Come with me.”

You nod, sending a look to the other VIP waiters who express their worry with as little expression as possible. Following the Host whose appearances were so far and in between would mean instant death should you disappoint. But with as many things in your life, you expected who this was. 

“...Sir?”

The Host turns their head to you, stopping in his tracks. 

‘How dare you?’

You sighed harnessing your courage as you continued.

“I know who you are…you’re the one who's been behind the masks right?”

He stayed in place.

“The one who’s left those memes in my room. That was you, right?”

He turned fully around. Facing you with his arms behind his back.

“And if I am?”

You didn’t actually know. You just wanted to be sure. To throw away this facade of deception. You wanted the truth. 

“I would prefer it if you just told me it was you. Rather than pretending you were someone else.”

A bellied voice-modified laughter emanated from the Host. He grabbed his wrist, subtly clicking at a device on his arm. Before returning to cradle his stomach. 

“Awfully bold of you to approach your boss like this.”

Perhaps your relocation could wait.

[charliedawn]

The slasher with an albino reader +Eddie Gluskin?

Reader could be a patient or a doctor

You don’t have to if you don’t want to

And have a very good day or night

(Thank you for the request, dearie ! Hope you’ll like it.)

Pennywise *chuckles* : "Oh great…A witch."

Pennywise was born in an era where albinos were often mistaken for witches, so he would be amused to see an albino nurse. He would also be curious and interested about your rarity (since he’s never eaten seen an albino). He would observe you and try to see what makes you tick. But little by little, he would warm up to you and eat kill whoever would make any comment on your appearance.

Brahms: "B-Beautiful." *lifts his hands to gently frame your face and study it intently*

Brahms has never seen an albino before. He would grow curious and find you interesting. He would also see you as a doll. Perfection. Brahms was never allowed dolls as a kid, even though he loves them. The only one he was allowed was the evil one who turned him mad. But you…he would see you as his perfect new doll. He would brush your hair, ask Barry to make you clothes and play with you all day—organising tea parties and all.

"…An angel." Eddie Guskin murmured as he first saw you. Such beautiful skin and eyes made of pure light.

Eddie was captivated the moment his eyes fell on you. He was about to undergo treatment when he saw you bend over him to check his bindings—and it was love at first sight. Such perfection shouldn’t be allowed to walk this Earth. He thought. After that day, his eyes seemed unable to look away from you and it didn’t take him long to share his infatuation with you. And Eddie is a quick one. When he sees beauty ? He is a goner. He would ask you to marry him right away if he could.

Bo: "Sooo prutty. Such a prutty lil’ doll. All prutty and rare and sweet like a lil’ flower in a pot of bad weed…"

Bo wasn’t subtle or shy when he first saw you. He became real touchy with you—trying to get you to stay as long as possible with him. He also became aggressive to anyone who would dare hurt his lil’ sunshine. He would take every opportunity to get close to you to admire your face and be as close to you as he can. He would also smile more around you. But…beware about giving too much attention to anyone but him. Because he tends to be jealous real quick. And believe me, you don’t want HIM jealous.

Jason was mesmerised the first time he saw you. He looked up at you and all thoughts went down the drain. He had never seen anyone like you before in his life and he thought you were an angel—because his mother had told him about those—and he couldn’t help but believe that you were one of them. He started staring a lot and bring your flowers sometimes to make flower crowns and put them on your head. He also attended Brahms’ tea parties a lot more. To get the chance to admire you more often.

Sometimes, Norman would stare at you while you are talking to him and just zone out every single word—focusing on your breathtaking features than anything else. But, do not take it against him. It is just that it is hard for him to concentrate when there is this bright angel talking to him. Norman considers himself a dark man, a very dangerous and murderous man. And when he saw you the first time, he was caught off guard that such a beautiful person would ever appear in his life. He couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander and fight the urge to just start touching you to see if you were real—or just a figment of his imagination.

Warning: Freddy is a douchebag.

Freddy: "Oh damn. Ya one of those pale fuckers, ain’t ya ? Ya skin looks like toothpaste." *pokes your skin*

Freddy is…an idiot. He can be rude without even meaning to.

Yeah.

Fortunately, the other slashers would be there to save the day.

Michael Myers *grabs Freddy by the neck and throws him outside the room the express way*

[eve-was-framed]

okay this is gonna be a bit of a long rant (with some SA and CSA mentions so pls don’t read if that will be too much for you rn) but I’ve been thinking a lot about the “male loneliness epidemic” lately and I have some Thoughts ™

we live in very isolating, depressing and scary times. we live in a hyper-individualistic capitalist hellscape that seems to punish people who need community support. and I truly believe that we as humans should try to help each other out in the ways that we are able to.

but I lose 100% of my empathy for lonely depressed men when they start using their own personal issues as an excuse to peddle ideologies that advocate for rape, pedophilia, child marriage, sexual slavery, and even murder of women and girls. I don’t fucking care how sad you are, if you advocate for other humans beings to be subjected to the cruelest treatment possible then you either need to get serious help or die (and not take anyone with you when you do).

you do not have a fucking paramount on suffering. you are not the only ones who experience loneliness. I know you think women get to just pick and choose whichever romantic partner/friends we want, but that is false, and also being seen as nothing but a sex object by men is so incredibly isolating too. that’s not real love and connection, that’s only being valued for what we can provide for men. so many people feel so alone and it genuinely is a big problem.

I was raised in an extremely misogynistic cult that preaches that grown men are not responsible for anything they do to little girls bc “they’re wired that way.” I had very bad things happen to me before I was even old enough to realize what it meant. and you know what the excuse always is? “well it happened to him when he was younger too so he can’t help that he does it to you.” I learned very early that male suffering is viewed as more important than the suffering they inflict on innocent people. and despite going through this, despite seeing nearly every woman in my life go through something similar, despite all of this, I still would never ever sympathize with any ideology that preaches rape, slavery, sex trafficking, pedophilia, white supremacy, etc. and that doesn’t make me some super hero, it makes me a mildly normal person.

so no, nobody “pushed” you into your evil ideologies, nobody made you do that. if true suffering at the hands of the opposite sex is really the root cause of inceldom then almost every single woman I know would be the most insane incel you’d ever meet in your entire life. but they’re not, even though many of them are lonely and long for true companionship, none of them feel so angry and entitled to it that they want to murder and rape men or little boys. not a single one. the root cause of inceldom is, and always has been, male entitlement. men who were raised to believe the world and every woman in it exists to serve them in some way, but then grew up and realized that actually nobody is owed sex and you don’t get to force women to marry you and have kids, because we are human beings who deserve to be happy too. and this makes them so mad that they start thinking it’s okay to do whatever they want to whoever they want, because after all, nobody on planet earth could ever suffer as much as incels do when a woman tells them no.

I’m fucking sick of it. stop saying “they pushed me to this” and start taking even an ounce of accountability for your deranged, entitled mindset.

[smogfromkortalmombat1]

The beginning (MK1 Tomas fic)

Hey there! Do you like Mortal Kombat 1? Do you like the Lin Kuei? Do you like traumatising children?

Well boy do I have the fanfiction for you!

Summary: The beginning of the Lin Kuei trio - The murder of the Vrbada family (Hurt/comfort - slight gore) - Word count ~ 6000

Can also be read here, on AO3: We are family. - Tsukuyomi_Ravioli - Mortal Kombat - All Media Types [Archive of Our Own]

.

He had been only five. Only five, when his family were slaughtered.

That day- it was something he would never, ever forget. One of the first ever full memories to grace what he considered his early ‘childhood’, and it was one of his most vivid to date even all these years later.

His family were not deserving of the end that befell them that fateful day. They were not criminals- they had not stolen, pillaged or murdered. Their hearts were pure and beautiful, despite their personal struggles. They had been humble hunters, seeking a quiet, calm life. Yet despite this, their bright, kind souls were extinguished without a second thought that day. Right before his very eyes. His life had almost been taken in that fell swoop too.

And for what reason? Well, Tomas was still chasing the answer to this very day. Twenty nine years later. He had a feeling that he would never find it, though.

“Tomas-!”

Even if he did finally find an answer that made sense- an excuse that he could possibly understand and reason with, it didn’t change the fact that that day hurt him more than he had ever been hurt in his whole life. No physical wound could reap as much sorrow and pain as he had felt that day.

“Máma?”

Not even his own death could ever compare.

Tomas had been dozing, his little head resting in his hands when loud, violent shouting tore him from the beginning of a peaceful dream. 

Someone was yelling. In what language, exactly, Tomas wasn’t sure. What he was sure of was that whoever it was was really, really upset, their snarls rattling the walls around him. They sounded like his Tatínek- when he drank too much juice, that was. Maybe this person had drunk too much too? They must have drunk a lot, if so. Tomas had never heard someone sound so angry.

 A sudden crash rattled the wall near his bedroom window. Tomas startled, his pale eyes wide. The whole room seemed to tremble with the impact, groaning as if it might collapse at any moment. His toys, once steady in their scattered spots across his floor wobbled and fell, little wooden soldiers clattering to the floor. Another shout, more yelling and then-

He gasped as his window shattered, exploding inwards towards him, tiny, fine shards of glittering glass raining down upon him like tiny, sparkling knives. He bit his lip, hard, a shiver wracking through his body as the cold night’s air swept easily into the room, biting into his exposed skin uncomfortably. This person- they needed to calm down. Papa got angry too, sometimes really, really angry, but never like this. 

Speaking of his Tatínek, he could hear him now, voice rising to meet the stranger’s own. Angry, heated words- something about the window, about the money it would cost. Typical of his Papa, really, but Tomas could hear, under that familiar, fiery anger, something new. Something different. Something that made his little stomach twist into knots. Fear.

His dad was scared.

He looked down at the glass surrounding him once more. It was like a landmine of sharp little daggers of ice, glistening from the lanterns outside. Máma would be so mad. She hated messes like this. Tomas would know- he’d caused many himself. Accidentally, of course. 

He should go and find her, really. Tell her that his window was broken, that he was cold, and that Papa may or may not be outside arguing with another crazy-man. She’d drag his Papa back inside so fast by just the ear if she found out he was causing up a stir. She was always quick to stomp his argumentative flame out.

Ever-so-carefully, he pushed himself upwards. His tiny hands brushed off the glass from his clothes as best as he could. He grabbed his favourite toy- a little wooden horse, handmade from the finest wood. A birthday gift, from his late babička. ‘For protection’ he reasoned with himself as he held the wooden figure close to his chest, letting his thumb gently run over the familiar grooves, feeling each and every cut that had been deliberately made in order to form the cute horse staring up at him. Comfort and ease washed over him.

Now, to find his Máma.

Cracking his door open, he peered out into the dimly lit corridor. The shouting was louder here, somehow. It was harsh and ugly, words Tomas hadn’t ever heard before being exchanged by his Papa and the stranger. More things were thrown, too, hitting the outer walls in rapid succession, shattering upon impact, rattling the house as they went. Grown-ups were scary, scary things.

“You’ve wandered into the wrong fucking area.” His father was slurring in Czech, voice muffled behind the bulk of the front door separating Tomas from the madness outside. His words were heavy, like it was a strain on his whole body to talk. Tomas’ little feet were quick to move away from the door, carrying him towards the kitchen instead, which resided right at the back of their house. That’s where he would find his Máma, napping in her big, brown, cosy rocking chair. She loved that chair. So did he- she always rocked him in it when he had nightmares. “You think you can come here and threaten me? Threaten my family? Do you? Who do you think you are, huh? Huh!?”

The stranger yelled something in their own native tongue, and before Tomas could even attempt to debunk it, a new sound tore through the night. 

His father’s screams.

Tomas froze, his breath catching in his throat. It wasn’t a mad scream. It was something else entirely, something he had never heard from his father before until this very moment. Pain. His father was screaming from pure and utter agony. He sounded hurt, really, really badly hurt. The house shook with the sound, the walls shuddering and whining. It sounded like the house was crying. Or maybe that was his Tatínek, Tomas couldn’t tell anymore.

Just as quickly as it started, it stopped. Everything stopped. The world was so incredibly still that the only thing he could hear was his own blood pounding in his ears. The frantic flutter of his petrified heart was loud, and painful, too. His tiny hand came to rest on his shirt above the spot, squeezing tight. 

“Papa?” He couldn’t help but call out, voice croaky and raspy with fear. He listened for a moment, straining his ears to hear anything other than his own laboured, terrified breathing. Nothing. Not a single sound.

The door unlocked with a soft click, like a twig snapping in a quiet forest, creaking open slowly on its hinges.

Tomas tried again, hopeful and desperate. His fingers tightened on his toy. “Papa?”

It wasn’t his Papa.

Tomas found himself here often.

It wasn’t a particularly well-known spot to those residing in the Shirai Ryu temples. An old, withered security post, high up out of the reach of even their best students, overlooking the wondrous, snow-capped mountains the very temples were built upon. The little area was untouched by humans for the most part, and, because of this, mother nature had been quick to recapture it. Birds’ nests, moss, lichen, it all grew and flourished in the cover of concrete privacy. Its beauty now marred the once dead stone walls, turning them into something new. Something alive. Something cherishable, and beautiful.

It reminded him of his first ever hunt with his dad. Covering his body in dirt and sticks and other gross muck in an attempt to ‘blend in’ with nature, trying to hold back his childish giggles as he lay stomach-down on the forest floor, His father laying beside him, dripping in mud and covered head-to-toe in leaves, attempting to shush and scold him with a finger against his own curled grin.

They had looked like a pair of idiots. Came back empty-handed too. As it turns out, birds and hares startled easily when you had a wiggling, excited toddler at your side, no matter how much of an expert you were. His dad hadn’t been upset, though. Instead he had ruffled Tomas’ filthy, mud-streaked hair with a laugh, and bought some rabbit meat from one of the local butchers on the way home.

His dad had tried to pretend Tomas had caught it, when confronted curiously by his mother. Wound up a wild tale of a chase that led to Tomas wrangling the prey with his bare hands. Obviously, Tomas’ mother wasn’t stupid enough to buy into that. Still, it had them all laughing and snorting and giggling over a nice cooked stew later that day. The rabbit had tasted amazing. 

Of course, that only happened once she had thoroughly scrubbed the pair of them clean from the dirt on the porch outside. She wouldn’t have let them step a single foot in the house before they were sparkling clean.

The sword was the first thing his eyes latched onto, the blade catching in the moonlight. Long streaks of crimson smeared the metal, thick drops of blood sliding off its edge and hitting the ground in sickening splats. 

The person didn’t look at him. He didn’t need to. His intentions were clear.

“Máma!” He shrieked, stealth forgotten as he turned tail and ran. His heart was in his throat- he felt sick. Deeply, truly sick. “Máma! Máma!”

He burst into the kitchen, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process as he reached his mother. She was there, right where he’d pictured she would be, sat in her cosy rocking chair, looking at him with kind, sleep-fogged eyes. Her calm demeanour did nothing to ease him. He couldn’t stop shaking. 

Flinging herself at her, he buried his face into her lap, tiny hands desperately clutching onto her with newfound strength. His breath came in ragged, whimpered gasps, “Máma!”

“Tomas?” Her voice was silky and soft, still heavy with sleep as she blinked at him. His twin sister, Anna, sirred in her arms, pink tongue sticking out as she yawned. “Tomas? Sweetheart?” His mother called again, her beautiful, graceful features etched in a worried frown. A hand came to cup his cheek, thumb wiping at the tears in his eyes. “Another nightmare?”

The birds were chirping softly, nestled high above him, the moss wet and soothing under his palms.

His sister would have loved it. 

At least, he thinks she would have.

If Tomas closed his eyes, he could imagine it. Imagine Anna laughing, how the echoes of her giggles would ring through the quiet space. Her small, soft hands reaching out to touch the moss, her big, doe brown eyes staring up in wonder at the birds nesting above her head. She had always been the more adventurous of the two of them. Braver, louder, she was everything he was not. 

If he closed his eyes, he could see her here, with him. See her older, wiser, but still the little Anna he had grown up with. Cheeky and loving, her blonde hair longer, curling slightly at the ends, and still that same kind, curious gaze in her eyes as she took in the world around them both like she was five once more.

But it was just that, wasn’t it? Just imagination. Some sad, bittersweet fantasy his mind created, desperate to try and fill the aching void in his heart.

Today that void could not be filled. The gaping chasm of aching in his battered soul only wanted one thing, and that thing could never be given to him. 

Another year, that’s what today marked. Another year since his family’s murder.

The wind whispered softly through the temples, ruffling his clothes as if desperately attempting to soothe him. But that ache in his chest remained. It was a familiar pain, one Tomas was well aware of. A special place in his heart that ached only for his family. To play with his sister, or his father. To hug his mother. To feel her gentle arms on him, rocking him as she once did, her lips in his hair, pressing a kiss to chase away his nightmares.

The rocking chair lay on its side now, abandoned, its familiar, loving creak silenced. The three of them were huddled on the floor now, tucked away in the nearest corner; Tomas’ Máma had been quick to push him behind her, positioning herself between her children and the man stood in the doorway. Anna was clutched onto her side, her little face buried deep in their mother’s chest, her tiny body wracked with the trembles of complete and utter fear.

Anna’s sobs were muffled against their mother’s nightgown, but Tomas could feel every tremor. He pressed himself close to his mother too, peering out from behind his Máma’s shoulder, his small hands clung tightly to her gown, fingers twisting the fabric in a white-knuckled grip. 

The man- he was just standing there, in the doorway, watching them cower, only a few feet away. In his hand, that fated sword. Tomas could see it clearer now. Bits of hair and flesh were scattered among its crimson smears, like grotesque ornaments. He felt sick.

His mother noticed it too. She let out a heart-wrenching sob, her whole body beginning to tremble as realisation dawned upon her. “Marek…”

The man took a step closer. His mother’s hand shot backwards blindly, searching for Tomas, grasping a tight hold on him, pulling him even closer to her. He could feel the raw desperation in the way her nails dug into his skin, her breath hitching. It was as if she was trying to anchor them together, save them from a fate unsavable. Even she could not will them away from the inevitable. 

“They’re just children.” She choked out, her voice a true desperate plea. There was no anger, no fight. Just a mother’s last true hope. “They are just children.” Her voice shook, her body quaking. “Just kill me, please. Please leave them alone. Let them live, please. Please, god, let them live.”

Another step. Then another. Tomas buried his head into his mother’s soft hair, the familiar, comforting scent of her filling his nose. He could hear Anna’s frightened whimpers, feel her writhing and quaking against him. He reached out with his free hand, finding her arm and squeezing tightly. ‘I’m here’ he wanted to say, ‘I’m here. I love you’, but his mouth was screwed shut. The words couldn’t come, no matter how hard he willed them to. 

“I don’t want to die.” Anna’s whisper, hot and frantic in his ear, broke his heart into a thousand pieces. “Tomas, I don’t want to die. I’m scared-” Her voice broke into another sob. He wanted to tell her so, so badly that it would be okay. That they would be safe, somehow, that their Máma would get them out of this, but the words, just like before, simply would not come. He was scared too. So, so scared.

He never got the chance to comfort her. To hold her tightly, to kiss her forehead like he did so very often. The blade descended, swift and merciless, before he could even blink.

“Tomas?”

A voice startled him from his thoughts, though it was gentle, familiar. Kuai Liang. Leave it to his brother to track him down even when Tomas himself didn’t want to be found. ‘Where there’s smoke, there’s fire’. Something like that.

He didn’t need to look to know what his brother was thinking. Kuai Liang was no stranger to loss himself, and he was not blind to others' losses either, especially not his younger brother’s. Tomas felt a flicker of gratitude- a small ember of light in the darkness he had been drifting in. He wasn’t being pressured to talk, to make up silly excuses. Tomas didn’t need to explain himself. Kuai Liang wasn’t seeking an explanation. He knew why Tomas was here.

The silence settled between them, only disturbed by the wind. It wasn’t uncomfortable, though. It could never be awkward with Kuai Liang. Tomas could feel his warmth from here, a gentle, welcoming presence. An anchor to reality amidst his spiralling thoughts.

Kuai Liang’s footsteps, light, yet deliberate, broke their shared quiet, though barely heard over the wild whistling around them. He moved carefully into Tomas’ peripheral, his posture relaxed and calm as he claimed the empty spot beside him. With a deep, tired sigh, Kuai Liang leaned back on his hands, his gaze wandering over the surrounding landscape. The freshly-healed scar over his right eye tugged slightly with every small movement of his face. “I’ve never been up here before.” He hummed, “It’s nice. Peaceful.”

Tomas swallowed, his voice rough and croaky from disuse, “You don’t have to do this.” He started, “I’d understand.”

Kuai Liang paused. He shifted closer, until their shoulders touched, a steady warmth radiating from his body into Tomas’ own. His brother was a furnace. Always had been, really. The heat grounded Tomas in the moment. Kuai Liang shook his head, his expression calm but firm. “I do.”

“You shouldn’t have to.”

“Don’t.” 

Tomas left it at that.

Go limp. Play dead.

Close your eyes, slow your breathing. Pretend it doesn’t hurt. Don’t flinch, don’t cry, don’t make a single sound. Do nothing at all. If you’re still, maybe you’ll live to see another day.

Anna was choking next to him,her breaths gurgling, wet and ragged, as if she were drowning. His mother was silent. Tomas kept his eyes tightly shut, willing himself not to look.

He attempted to steady his breathing, to quiet the frantic pounding of his heart. His whole body screamed in agony, twitching and writhing despite his best efforts. The blade hadn’t been merciful- the man had not held back. Deep, painful lacerations laced his skin- his face felt like it was on fire, his blood boiling as it pooled out of him, searing his pale, once unmarred skin. He wanted to cry so badly. To shriek and thrash and wail. He was only five. Only five.

He wanted his Máma. To feel her arms around him, hear her soft voice as she soothed away the pain. To have her kiss his bruises and bandage his cuts, to rock him to sleep like she always did when he was upset. His hand was still entangled in her nightgown, his face pressed against the back of her neck, which was steadily growing colder with each passing second. 

She was right there, beside him, and yet Tomas had never felt so alone.

He sighed, turning to lean closer into Kuai Liang’s welcoming presence, resting his cheek on his elder brother’s shoulder. In turn, Kuai Liang’s arm wrapped around him, tugging him closer. 

“I hate seeing you like this.” His brother whispered, as if almost to himself, gaze still set on the mountains before them. On the setting sun casting pretty yellows and purples across the cloudless sky. “I always hoped, as the years went by, that you’d be able to heal fully.” His mouth tugged into a grim, thin line, “I know now that pain like that doesn’t disappear, no matter how much you will it to.”

Watching his mother and sister die was something that Tomas could never, ever truly scrub from his memory. Pieces of his childhood had fallen away over the years, slipping through his fingers slowly like sand as he aged, but that memory would never leave him. It was imprinted on his brain, hardwired into his DNA, entangled in his coding- whatever metaphor he tried to use didn’t give it enough justice. It was there, and it was never leaving him. No matter what.

Part of him was thankful. Knowing that he’ll keep a memory of them forever- be able to remember their faces in such vivid detail, their voices clean and well-kept in tone, as other memories of his faded and warped over time. He won’t ever forget what they looked like. To him, that is invaluable.

Part of him though, deep down? He felt as though that moment was glued to him to remind him how he failed them. He led that attacker right to them both as they slept, unaware of the dangers. If he had run elsewhere, had time to wake them up before leading the man to them, done something brave and different- maybe the outcome would have changed. Maybe they would still be here today, alongside him.

Tomas didn’t know how long he lay there, motionless, his small, tiny body curled against his mother’s cold side. Time had become a blur, a slow, endless stretch of darkness and pain. He was caught between the terrifying thought that maybe this was what death was, and the equally more petrifying idea that if he was alive, and he moved, even just an inch, the man would return and finish what he started. 

Maybe this is what death really was. Nothingness. No heaven, no hell, just absolute nothingness. You just lay there, alone, forever, feeling nothing but aching emptiness and unending agony. He hoped it wasn't. He really, really hoped it wasn’t.

The sound of footsteps reached his ears eventually, breaking the eerie silence of the night. They were growing louder and louder. Voices hit the air around him, unfamiliar and hurried, a language he didn’t understand. He stayed still, squeezing his eyes shut tighter, his breath catching in his throat as the footsteps drew nearer and nearer, creaking down the hallway in a hurried fashion. The kitchen door whined on its hinges. His bloodied fingers clenched tighter onto his mother’s nightgown. 

A gentle, soft hand touched his neck, nimble fingers feeling for a pulse. Then, another cradled his head. Tomas couldn’t help but flinch, a sharp, violent shiver running through his body. The touch was warm. Alive. He dared to open his eyes. Just a little.

A woman. Long, black, silky strands of hair curling delicately around her cheeks, her haunted face pale in the moonlight. She was kneeling beside him, once-white clothes soaked crimson in the blood of his mother, sister- him, too, to an extent. Her eyes were the same shade of brown as his mother’s. Filled with the same concern, the same kindness. She was talking to him, her lips moving, though blurred by his tear-clouded vision, voice low and soothing, though he couldn’t understand a single word.

“Máma…” He whimpered, his voice barely more than a whisper. He wasn’t sure if he was calling for his mother, or asking this kind, strange lady to be her.

The woman, in turn, gave him a sad, heartbroken smile. She reached forward, her arms slipping under him, lifting him gently from the blood-soaked floor, pressing him close into her side. Tomas let her, too numb and weak to resist, a hand curling in the cloth of her dress. His head lolled against her shoulder tiredly, half-lidded eyes drawn back to the scene he had been pulled from.

His mother, his sister- they were just… lying there. Still and silent, their faces pale in the dim light of the night. His mother’s hand, the one that had held onto him so dearly, was so deathly limp now. Contorted and completely lifeless. Anna’s small body was curled into her side, half-tucked away from view, his mother’s last attempts at saving her clear as day. 

The woman holding onto him began moving away, turning towards the door without much notice, eager to leave the massacre behind. Her voice was still soft, though dripping in worry and urgency. Her hand cupped the back of his head where it rested against her shoulder, thumb feeling over a long, deep cut on his scalp. His gaze remained fixed on his family’s corpses, though. A part of him wanted to cry out, to reach for them. To demand that this woman put him down, let him cuddle with them one last time, to fall asleep in his mother’s arms once more, but his body wouldn’t respond. It felt as though he was floating, detached from everything around him. From himself, especially. His lips were sealed tightly shut as the door to the kitchen closed, his family disappearing for the last time behind its wooden frame.

Tomas’ world was a blur of movement and noises as the woman carried him through the cold night’s air. He could hear her calling out, her voice urgent and strong, though her words foreign and unfamiliar. Men, women, they had joined her as she walked, lanterns held up high, glinting weapons sheathed safely in scabbards as they escorted the pair. He glanced around, head still resting on the woman’s shoulder, eyes heavy with exhaustion. They were approaching something- something big. Massive, really. Tall and elegant, high up atop a hill, the climb steep and treacherous.

Oh. This must be a temple. Tomas had never seen a temple before.

The temple's inhabitants were beginning to stir as the woman’s calls echoed through the courtyards. Sleepy, confused faces appearing in windows and doorways, their features blurred by the soft glow of the travelling lanterns moving past. He could feel their eyes on him, though, their gazes shocked and concerned, racking over his wounds and the blood smeared both over him and his saviour. The woman’s hands tightened on him, pulling him closer, as if attempting to shield him from their judging view. That, he appreciated.

Two boys caught his own gaze as he sleepily looked at the crowds around him. One taller, more broader, the other smaller, but no less muscular, both staring at him from the footpath to one of the much larger, prettier temple homes. The taller one wore a deep, calming blue, the other a bright, fiery yellow, their little confused faces peering out at him, dark, curious eyes meeting his own pale ones. 

The woman holding him looked over herself, her own eyes meeting those of the young boys. She said something in her native tongue that sent the two of them scrambling back behind closed doors, out of view. Tomas tiredly wondered what she had said to them. Were those her children?

He was whisked away before he could question it further, carried down a narrow corridor into a dimly-lit room where the strong scent of sage and sandalwood greeted him, tickling his nose gently. There, she lay him down upon a low cot, his battered body sinking into the fabric. A man was waiting nearby- a doctor, if Tomas had to guess. He was much, much older than her, his face lined with wrinkles of age and wisdom. His eyes, though sharp, held a kindness as they took in the sight of the small boy placed before him. 

His voice was deep, calm and well-controlled as he turned to speak to the woman, his hands gesturing towards Tomas as he himself rolled back on his chair, checking over his equipment. In response, the woman touched Tomas’ shoulder, her fingers gentle as she began to peel back the layers of clothing clinging to his skin. Her movements were deliberate and careful, each button of his torn and bloodied shirt undone with absolute care. She murmured quietly in his ear the whole time as she worked, her voice a soothing balm to his frayed, jumpy nerves, even if her words were incomprehensible.

Once he was stripped bare of his clothes, the doctor leaned back in, his gaze sharpening as he examined the full extent of Tomas’ injuries. His cold, rough hands shifted Tomas back and forth and side-to-side, eyes hesitating over the deeper cuts across his shoulders and upper back. He muttered something short under his breath before turning away back to his equipment nearby.

Throughout it all, the woman stayed close, her hands never leaving him. Her fingers, which had deftly unbuttoned his shirt moments before now traced delicate patterns across the skin of his face, her nails scratching lightly at his scalp as she combed through his smoky hair. It reminded him achingly of his mother.

A single tear slipped from Tomas’ eye, tracing a path down his bloodied face. The woman’s thumb was quick to catch it, her lips pressing into a thin line as she leaned forwards, closer, whispering something to him, her eyes filled with honest concern. At just the simple gesture, more tears followed, and Tomas had to look away, his pale eyes staring down at his bloodied hands resting in his lap, entangling his fingers together. His lip wobbled dangerously. “Máma…”

Eventually, the woman was called away from him. Her warm hands left him hesitantly, replaced by the cold, harsh string of the needle as the doctor attempted to stitch him back up. As she stepped back, Tomas looked up, watching as she wandered over to a newcomer, a man, who was stood in the doorway, arms crossed and expression grim. Their conversation wasn’t a loud one by any means, but it held heat, their whispered voices rising and falling. Tomas noticed their eyes dart towards him occasionally, looking him up and down. Judging him. Were they discussing what to do with him? Was he even welcome here?

When the doctor finally finished, his wounds stinging and raw, but now clean and tended to, whatever argument had befallen the pair seemed to cease as well, an answer concluded, if the man’s dip of his head and his quick exit had anything to go by. The woman returned quickly, gathering Tomas up in one arm, cradling his tiny body close to her chest, her other hand reaching out, snagging the dirtied, slashed clothing he had once worn. She softly thanked the doctor, at least, he assumed so, Tomas hearing him murmur something to her in turn. A gentle, satisfied exchange between the pair before she took her leave, dragging Tomas away with her. Back down the narrow corridor they went, away from the scent of herbs and towards the crisp chill of the night’s air once more. 

She was quick to lead him towards another building- the same one, he noted, that he had seen those two boys disappear into earlier. She didn’t hesitate, waltzing in through the large, elegant door, down the winding hallways until she reached what he assumed were her own quarters, letting them both in quickly, the thin wooden door closing with a click behind them.

She moved with practised ease, setting Tomas down on a cushioned mat as she moved further into another room, returning moments later with an old, dusty box, full to the brim of children’s clothes- blue and yellow outfits, like the two boys he had seen. After rummaging around inside the box, and comparing him to the garments she found, the woman settled on a small pair of yellow pyjamas. The fabric was soft and worn from time, smelling faintly of lavender and rose. Though they were far too large on his small frame, the cuffs reaching the very tips of his fingertips, the bottoms pooling well past his toes. Regardless, they were comfortable- a stark contrast to his previous attire, which now sat abandoned near the doorway in a bloodied heap. The relief was immediate and more than welcome.

The woman changed out of her own blood-soaked dress, donning something soft and simple in tow. She sat down beside Tomas, pulling him into her lap, her arms wrapping around him in a comforting embrace. He curled into her almost immediately, pressing his face into the crook of her neck, seeking solace in her warmth. He could hear her murmuring softly to him, her voice soothing and melodic as she spoke simple, singular words to him. She was trying different languages, he realised, attempting to find which one he would react to- some words she spoke he vaguely recognized from stories or encounters, some completely foreign to him entirely. She didn’t speak Czech, though, but Tomas didn’t expect her to. Instead, he simply burrowed closer, letting the sound of her voice wash over him, lulling him toward the sleep his body desperately begged for.

Sensing his need for quiet and peace, the woman’s words gradually faded into a gentle hum as she began to rock him slowly, her hand idly stroking his soft, pale hair. The tune she hummed was soft and tender, a melody that felt like a distant memory. It sounded like something his own mother may have sung to him. Maybe one she may have sung to him tonight, in her beloved brown rocking chair. Had she been given the chance to.

Tomas’s eyelids grew heavier as his body sank deeper into the woman’s comforting embrace. He felt the tension in his muscles slowly ebb away, replaced by an overwhelming exhaustion that he could no longer fight. The horrors of the night began to blur, replaced by the warmth of her arms, the softness of her voice, the steady beat of her heart beneath his cheek. He let himself drift, slipping into the safety of sleep, the last thing he heard being the woman’s gentle hum, carrying him into a world where, for a moment, he could forget everything.

Tomas awoke to Kuai Liang’s rough, scarred hand ghosting across his face, idly tracing old scars. His fingertips were careful and precise, brushing through his hair, flattening smoky strands. He tucked a few particularly curly rebels behind his ears ever-so-gently.

When he had fallen asleep, he hadn’t a clue. He had gone from sitting up to laying down somehow, his head now pillowed in his brother’s lap. The night’s winds were no longer a gentle breeze, instead howling and wailing through the mountains. The cold of the air bit at the exposed skin of his arms, but Kuai Liang’s unnatural, fiery warmth kept most of the discomfort at bay.

They hadn’t cuddled like this since they were children. Kuai Liang was much like Bi-Han when it came to things like affection, making Tomas the odd one out of the three, naturally. Cold and icy, Kuai Liang never wanted to get too close to anyone, attempting desperately to mimic his elder brother, wanting to be everything he was and more, even at the cost of his own mental health. It seems Harumi had done a good job in getting his brother to take up on his naturally softer side once more.

Losing Bi-Han to that same coldness he had once strived hard for probably helped, though. Tomas knew it was a sore spot still, even after all the time passed. It hurt him, too- he wasn’t afraid to admit it. Losing Bi-Han was like losing his blood family all over again. Like losing his adoptive father and mother. Bi-Han was the closest person he had to a parental figure after everything he had lost over the years, and just like the previous ones, he had disappeared too. Instead this time, on his own volition. That had stung even deeper.

“Sleep, brother.” Kuai Liang whispered, voice barely heard over the wind. “I’ll keep you safe.”

He yawned, jaw cracking. His brother’s warmth and ghosting touch were slowly dragging him back under, reminding his mind of better days, soothing his aching, lonely heart. And who was he to fight it?

[insanelyadd]

Collector and Archivist Family Headcanons

I got one person who said they wanted to see this when I asked, so this is for you. <3

Before I get into describing the relationships of the siblings (Which I think I did a really good job writing and describing), it is important you know a few background details (that are also headcanons). As a little heads up warning, under the cut there will be mentions of: Imprisonment, neglect, abuse, manipulation, toxic family dynamics, child murder (the Titans), murder (also the Titans), abandonment, guilt, PTSD(?). I think that's it. Let me know which of the Archivists are your least favorite, I'm keeping track and so far one of them is ahead by a lot.

As a reminder this is what My Archivists look like, I swear to god tumblr if you tank the image quality when I publish this:

Free headcanon before we transition to under the read more: I gave The Collector and The Archivists "true names" (and in the Archivist's case, specific code names) because I have a HC that the reason we never learn any "normal" names for any of them is that if a mortal knows a Collector's True Name then that mortal (non-Collector) has power over them. Their magic no longer has much, if any, effect, and they can be harmed by the mortal.

They had one parent named Nebula who used xey/xem pronouns. Their parent has been imprisoned for trying to raise xeir children to believe contrary to the extremism of destroying planets when people get mad about their loved ones being kidnapped, which would probably reflect onto the children that their parent cared more about xeir contrarian morality than them, since xey definitely would have known what would happen when/if xey were caught. They have to have had a parent because the large age disparity between the eldest Archivist and the Collector would typically imply a more parental role, so they need to have all shared a parent.

When the other Collectors came to arrest Nebula, xey tried to fight it so xey could stay with xeir children but xey were easily outnumbered and overpowered. After Nebula were apprehended, the other Collectors began to round up the children so they could be brought to new adult(s) to be raised “properly”, but once they noticed Penumbra was roughly adult age, they asked her if she would be willing to become their caretaker, as otherwise the other children may all be separated, because who would want to suddenly accept 5 new children, including an infant. So Penumbra took on all this responsibility herself to prevent them from being separated.

Sketch of the happy family after these events, now with finalized designs.

Next info bit relates to a theory I have about how the room where Phillip found the Collector's disk could not have been made by the Titan ("Ah yeah lemme teleport this into my skull where I have conveniently made a locked door to put it behind") or Titan Trappers (they would have absolutely taken the disk instead), so this room had to have been made by SOMEBODY and the most likely candidate is the Archivists. To expand upon this, I believe they absolutely had access to Titan Blood and the Disk and chose to leave the Collector behind.

They most likely did this because whoever found the disk would very quickly find out they need Titan's blood or a Titan's help to release the Collector, in any case, the last Titan would need to be hatched, and accessible. The Archivists very likely assumed that he would return to them and when that happened they'd go back to the planet to finish what they started (killing the last Titan if they were not already killed to release them, and then possibly microwaving the planet).

They need to stop taking family photos after one of them is imprisoned, now with finalized designs.

NOW FOR THEIR RELATIONSHIPS!

Nebula, the Archivists' parent, loves all of xeir children dearly, and hopes they are all doing well without xem.

Penumbra:

Penumbra had a very good relationship with Nebula, but after xey were imprisoned for raising them "wrong", Penumbra resents xem. Xeir actions led to Penumbra being forced to raise four children all by herself while she, herself, was barely an adult by the standards of Collector society (I'd say 16 but simultaneously I'm assigning numbers for convenience to myself rather than it being a true translation of their ages as I feel many of our concepts of aging and other things are not be truly cross-compatible). Taking care of a teenager (14), two children (8), and a toddler (2), all while trying to continue to do her duties as a Collector (starting at the Collector equivalent of 8 years old they can assist on Collections, so Satellite, Solari, and Crescent all would have been able to help to varying degrees) would have been extremely stressful for her and it strained her relationship with all of her younger siblings.

She gets along best with Crescent since he was old enough to be almost entirely self-sufficient, though she was still very immature. They would occasionally come to points of contention specifically about how much Crescent should be allowed to do, with both of them having different perspectives on what she can do and what he can't do. Penumbra felt like he should contribute more on Collections and play less with Cosmos (the Collector), while Crescent felt like she should be allowed to help care for and watch Cosmos more since Penumbra assigning herself as sole caretaker of them was very obviously wearing her out. This would ease as Crescent got older, but as Cosmos also got older and less dependent, Penumbra became less stressed which made Crescent press less about caring for him, though she still enjoyed spending time with them (if any of the Archivists were likely to want children it would be Crescent). 

Penumbra has a much more tense relationship with Satellite who took Nebula's imprisonment the hardest. Penumbra feels like Satellite resented her for the role she was forced to fill as their new sole caretaker. Satellite became much more quick to anger and was openly hostile when in a bad mood, which is ultimately why Penumbra decided they should be the Cartographer, because it gave them a lot of time by themself, since it seemed so obvious to her that they couldn't stand their own family. Penumbra also has a bitterness towards Satellite for their repeated verbal abuse towards Cosmos. All she wanted was for them to play nice with their baby brother so she could have a moment alone with her thoughts, or to work on projects and sometimes it worked, but it is impossible for her to tell when Satellite is in a bad mood (since they suppress their emotions until they explode) until she hears them screaming and Cosmos crying and has to show up to yell at Satellite and comfort Cosmos.

Penumbra has a horrible relationship with Solari. Unless they are speaking on official matters regarding their jobs, Solari has a tendency to undercut everything with sarcasm and disdain. Solari only ever seems truly happy and genuine when deep in thought categorizing and organizing the Archives, which was something Penumbra picked up on quite quickly, seeing how organized and easy to find everything in their room was, especially compared to the random hordes of assorted trinkets present in Crescent and Satellite's rooms (and her own if she felt like being honest), and assigned her as the Archive’s Curator. Penumbra feels like Solari needs to be preoccupied with other tasks while interacting with anyone because she otherwise expends her excess mental energy to be snide and cold to people, like they want to tell jokes but she's too mean or emotionally distant to bother thinking of ones that aren't cruel. Penumbra also DEEPLY dislikes Solari's tendency to be rough with Cosmos when she sends him off to play with them. He doesn't seem to mind the shooting star game, as long as he isn't thrown into objects or so far away they can't find their way back, but Solari does things that scare Cosmos and piss off Penumbra, like boxing him into small spaces or stomping their foot hard enough for the floor to crack right in front of him, or punching walls and slamming doors when she’s aggravated about them being around. She's never actually hurt them on purpose, with a few accidental times resulting in Solari immediately apologizing, healing him if necessary, and leaving him alone. But if the day ever comes where they do hurt him on purpose Penumbra is fully prepared to wring their neck and lock her in her room for 100 years, impeccable talent for organizing be damned.

Penumbra has a complicated relationship with Cosmos. She is their older sister but also effectively their mother, having been his sole caretaker for a majority of his life, but she’s also exhausted by him. She raised Cosmos from a literal infant into a curious and playful child. Unfortunately the playfulness and curiosity are a non-stop feature and not one that only conveniently exists when she wants a break from her duties or when she's giving him his lessons on their culture, the universe, or their vast Collection. She also gets easily frustrated with them just like the twins do, but she prides herself in being able to easily dismiss those feelings despite her bone deep burnout for childcare. She sends him on tasks in the Archives, uses the cultures of the beings she’s observing at any given time to concoct new games for him to play, or redirects them to any of the other available siblings. She loves them very much but she also desperately wanted a break from him.

Crescent:

Crescent had the worst relationship with Nebula, which isn’t to say it was even bad, but that once she found out that xey were breaking their laws by teaching them all “incorrectly”, he turned xem in. Crescent much prefers the rules as they are Meant To Be, because the way Nebula taught them was much less efficient, which is what she prefers. It wasn’t until the incident with the Titans that he became more openly gleeful about ending the lives of mortals, before then it remained largely just another part of her duties as a Collector. Nobody knows how other Collectors found out about Nebula doing this, and Crescent knows better than to tell his siblings about this.

Crescent feels like an equal to Penumbra, in that they both are the eldest, with only a few “years” apart from each other, and he is given free reign to make executive decisions while performing her duties on planets alone. She still has a slight bitterness about Penumbra refusing to let him help raise Cosmos, because she believes if Penumbra was less stressed she would have lashed out less to Satellite and Solari, and blames her for some of their behavioral issues. For the most part though he doesn’t let these feelings interfere at all with how he interacts with her, because they are The Charmer, and she prides herself on being able to be incredibly charismatic, smoothing over moments of tension between Penumbra and the Twins easily, lying to and manipulating mortals even more easily.

Crescent silently despises Satellite. She would never let it slip how she really feels about them, but inside whenever they are forced to interact she is constantly imagining scenarios in which it may be appropriate to punch them. He HATES their inability to telegraph how they’re feeling more clearly, because she hates not being able to read people. Their emotional constipation means it’s harder for him to get a read on how best to placate or flatter them in any given situation. His frustration about this coupled with Satellite’s extreme hostility at the drop of a hat makes it so Crescent loathes interaction with them.

Crescent outwardly gets along very well with Solari, as they can very very easily figure out the best course of action to take in any given interaction they share. He still doesn’t enjoy her company that much though, as her tendency to “jokingly” insult her pisses her off, especially paired with what Crescent perceives as extreme arrogance when Solari tries to act intimidating and tough to him. Crescent is probably the most physically fit of all of the Archivists (magically it is much harder to decipher who’s on top) and is insulted that the least physically capable of all of them (excluding the actual child) even entertains the idea that she could fight him, especially with her misplaced confidence in these moments that Crescent perceives to be them believing they could even win. At every opportunity that has presented itself Crescent fights her and takes them down VERY quickly, which makes Solari even more passive aggressive and angry at him.

Crescent adored Cosmos. Always enjoying playing with them, telling him stories about the Collections she’s gone on recently, teaching him new magic tricks. Crescent liked that they were easy to read and easy to lead, easily redirecting their energy at tasks and “games” that could easily preoccupy them until they got tired enough to sleep. Still, he believed it was a great idea to send them to the Titan Planet to see how he would do on his first excursion as an Actual Collector, even after the Titans proved to be able to harm Cosmos they weighed the benefits against the risks of leaving them there. Benefits being that he could function as a good distraction while she whipped up a quick plan to wipe the Titans out, risks being the Titans catching on and harming Cosmos or doing so accidentally. Crescent concluded the Titans were far too nice to harm them, and believed himself to be clever enough to quickly mount up an attack on the Titans that would wipe them out before they’d even be able to register what happened.

Satellite:

Satellite loved Nebula more than anyone, even their own twin (but don’t tell Solari that). The feeling of betrayal and abandonment they felt when it was revealed that xey had broken laws which resulted in xeir imprisonment destroyed everything that they knew in their mind.

Satellite is afraid of Penumbra, which used to not be the case, at least, not to the same extent. Satellite never really got along with any of their siblings except Solari on a consistent basis but Penumbra’s idea to make them the Cartographer at first felt fine, even Satellite didn’t fully understand what would set them off and enjoyed the time alone and moments of peace they got exploring space and searching out new places to Collect from. Eventually they realized that they actually hated being alone, they didn’t like how easily Penumbra sent them to do probably the most isolating task any of them could do to maintain their Archive. This strained their relationship quite a bit, but seeing how easily Penumbra was able to cast aside Cosmos after he was sealed in the mirror shook something in them. They thought Penumbra loved Cosmos more than any of the other siblings, a leftover piece of jealousy at him receiving so much attention after Nebula was taken away, but they couldn’t comprehend Penumbra actually even DISLIKING them in any capacity so it simply meant that to Penumbra All of the other Archivists were disposable if she came up with a good enough reason to abandon them.

Satellite is also afraid of Crescent but for reasons that are the same and completely different. The same because Crescent didn’t even argue with Penumbra’s plan to leave the disk on the Titan Planet, and in fact came up with the idea to leave behind folklore and stories about how “The Collector” was so powerful to entice people to want to find him and release him. Different because while Satellite was more apathetic to mortals, the lessons Nebula told them about how mortal life is sacred and should be protected (which is only slightly different from what they were “meant” to be told about how mortal life is sacred and must be protected by collecting unless they resist in which case they should be taken by force and their home and any stragglers left to die as they destroyed their planet) resulted in Satellite being deeply disturbed by Crescent’s total glee upon orchestrating mortals to fight the Titans on his behalf, easily ignoring how many of the Titan Trappers she had trained were killed in the battles against the full grown titans. Wearing the skulls of the babies and children, and encouraging the Trappers and other Archivists to do the same. Satellite knows how good she is at reading people, they aren’t stupid, they see how when Crescent is around fights are resolved easily, how the mortal Trappers were so easily swayed by her words and loyally fought in battle for him to the very last breath. Satellite isn’t as good at reading people but they sense their emotional non-transparency frustrates him which Satellite is just fine with, to a small extent because it can be used to protect them from her but also they worry about it making Crescent angry enough to do something about it one of these days.

Solari is Satellite’s only friend. They confide in her frequently about what they are feeling, and spend much of their time when not exploring space hanging out with them in the Archives while she sorts, categorizes, and organizes things. Solari is almost never on the receiving end of one of their meltdowns, especially since she was the one to be there for them the most after Nebula was gone. They still do get into fights, they are siblings of course, but they are not even remotely on the same level as one of them fighting with Penumbra or Crescent. Satellite has shared their worries about Crescent and Penumbra so easily discarding Cosmos, and how they worry how easily they would get rid of them or her. Solari understands them and they agree quite frequently on things, though their jobs typically keep them far apart.

Satellite did like Cosmos. They have extreme difficulty expressing how they feel and clearly communicating their needs in social situations which very often resulted in Cosmos, being a child and thus even more oblivious to social etiquette than Solari with none of the lifelong bonding Satellite has with her to guide Cosmos through their interactions, getting on their nerves severely. It was about a 50/50 chance for Satellite to be in a relatively good mood to speak with Cosmos, enjoying them chatting about assorted things, especially when they got to lie and teach them the wrong things about space or magic which resulted in Penumbra giving them the stink eye when Cosmos finally got around to asking her about whether black holes get sick and throw up when too much stuff goes in them at once. Satellite did not like yelling at any of their siblings but they also don’t know how else to act when overwhelmed because it’s not like any of them have had the same issues as them. Now that Cosmos is gone, Satellite is very upset at how they treated him. Satellite feels like they should have realized that they were distant and cold, and Solari was distant and cold, and Penumbra was detached, and Crescent was nearly always busy, and they wonder if he felt the way they do, about being so very alone with almost no one to talk to about how they really feel.

Solari:

Solari loved Nebula quite a bit, though they could tell Satellite was always more excited to spend time with xem than her, but they didn’t let that get her down. Seeing their parent taken from them, and how badly it hurt Satellite made them resent Nebula after the fact.

Solari hates Penumbra. Mainly because she was smart enough to, just like Crescent, realize that if she relinquished some control over Cosmos when they were a baby to Crescent, she would have been more present for Satellite, like they desperately needed her to be. As they got older her resentment manifested in cold hostility for all the members of the family that they felt were failing her twin. Penumbra isolates them, Crescent is annoyed he can’t just puppet them to do what she wants, and Cosmos got all the attention. Penumbra’s obvious disdain for Solari just fuels her own disdain for her right back. They frequently get into fights. Solari was HORRIFIED by Penumbra’s suggestion that they leave the Collector’s mirror disk, all that remained of him, on the Titan Planet because what amounted to the corpse (though not dead) of their sibling could be used as a signal to them for when the final titan frees them or is killed so they can finish the job they started and finally destroy the planet.

Solari despises Crescent. The way he is able to so easily turn events in her favor when there is a disagreement, the fact that he is given so much freedom from Penumbra compared to herself or Satellite, the way that Crescent avoids Satellite simply because she does not care to be genuine in conversations with them. Not to mention when instead of arguing that since they had Titan’s blood and the disk, they should release Cosmos immediately, he agreed to Penumbra’s plan and contributed. It deeply disgusted Solari, especially since her and Satellite agreed that Crescent and Cosmos were closer with each other than any of the rest of them were with either. She loves to get under his skin by challenging her authority, even though she knows they will always lose in a hand-to-hand fight, she does it anyway because they can tell it makes him angry to see her self-assured superiority challenged.

Satellite is the only person Solari is really close with, both of them speaking to each other about their concerns regarding their older siblings when they have the chance to. Solari knows Satellite the best out of any of their siblings, which is why her sarcasm and teasing is always intentional and never mean spirited with them. Solari was the one to comfort Satellite the most about Nebula, which shocked and upset her, because they could not understand why neither of the older siblings could tell or seemed to care about how much they were hurting. Together they realized they had been terrible to Cosmos through no fault of his own and they both deeply regret how they treated them. They’ve spoken before about a complete pipe dream they’ve had, where if Cosmos is ever able to return to them, they’d all run away together to keep their older siblings from continuing to use and neglect him.

Solari has a lot of regrets about Cosmos. She wishes she could have realized that they never did anything wrong, or hurt them (Solari and Satellite) intentionally. They know now that he deserved much better than what he got, this regret typically manifests in her being even more upset at Penumbra and Crescent, how DARE they care more about practicality and their “carefully laid plans” and stupid PROTOCOL than their own brother. Whenever she thinks about her, and Satellite’s own treatment of them, she becomes repulsed with herself. She tries to avoid thinking about it, because it only comes up in her mind when she’s alone sorting the Archives and cataloging new entries, a task they do so effortlessly that the guilt and “what ifs” end up consuming her until she realizes she’s stopped her work entirely and is standing entirely too still with her non-existent stomach turning and her eyes burning, but never fully crying.

The Collector/Cosmos:

Cosmos doesn’t know how to feel about Nebula. On one hand, xey never would have been taken from him and his siblings if xey had simply done what xey were supposed to do, but on the other hand, now that Cosmos is separated from their own siblings, and the culture of other Collectors, he wonders if Nebula would have been proud of them for disagreeing with what he was raised to believe, and managing to escape from the grip it had on them. They’ve heard stories from their older siblings. Penumbra’s stories about xem were typically meant to impress upon him some lesson or to pass on a story that was originally told to Penumbra, as part of the lessons she would teach him, though she avoided speaking about xem in any other context. Crescent’s stories would usually come back to how what xey did was wrong, and how xey put xeir morality above what was actually legal and accepted practice. Satellite loved speaking about Nebula, it was one of the seemingly only guaranteed ways to cheer them up, unless the story was specifically the day xey were arrested, that one was a guaranteed way to make them more upset than anything else he could think of. Solari’s stories were tinged with bitter resentment, though she had good stories about xeir kindness, they would always finish their story with “but xey still choose to break the law and abandon us”. It was all giving mixed messages.

Cosmos had thought that Penumbra was one of their nicest siblings. He loved spending time with her, he enjoyed their lessons, he tried to ignore the slithering feeling of pain he got in his chest whenever he could tell she was annoyed with them. Every time she tiredly redirected them to play with Satellite, Solari, or Crescent when he was there, he pushed down the feeling of agonizing pain in his stomach. He knew Penumbra still loved them, she still was so happy to play with him when she wasn’t busy, to teach him lessons, or read important books to them. That’s what he thought at least. Since they’ve been freed from their prison, he’s had time to reflect on what happened. Even though Satellite was the one that told them about how he was allowed to go play with the Titans, Cosmos knew it was Penumbra who came up with the plan, it was literally her job to direct the rest of them and their missions. She was either the one that came up with the plan to kill all the Titans or at the very least approved of the plan that was otherwise definitely Crescent’s idea. She didn’t bother taking him off the planet after they started. She left them there.

Cosmos loved Crescent very much, the only sibling that never gave them a disappointed look, that never dismissed him, that enjoyed playing games with him, and never yelled at or scared them. Which makes them even more devastated, knowing that she was the one that had all their friends killed. Every baby Titan he befriended died, very likely because of Crescent, either indirectly by the Titan Trappers, or directly by her own hands. It’s very hard for them to hate anyone, but they’ve decided they should hate him. For being so nice, and so kind, only to hurt them in such a hideous way, he knows she, Penumbra, and the twins all were definitely watching him on the planet. They absolutely knew that Papa Titan blamed Cosmos for the missing and dead Titans. They still did nothing to stop him. Eventually he figures out that they all had to have found his disk, and had access to Titan’s blood, and chose not to free him on purpose. The more Cosmos thinks about him, the more upset they get.

Cosmos never had a very good relationship with Satellite. It was confusing, how they seemed to be fine one moment and angry at them the next. It made them feel cautious when Penumbra sent him to play with them, but they were always happy when Satellite was in a good mood to play or talk. They could never tell when they were lying to him about things, but it was always funny when they did because it was never mean or about important things. Cosmos knew Satellite (and Solari) did not get along with Penumbra or Crescent as much as they did, so it makes them wonder if Satellite argued against leaving them on the Titan Planet when they came up with the plan to kill all the Titans, if for no other reason than to just be contrarian to the elder siblings. Cosmos knows that no matter which of their siblings suggested they leave him behind in his disk, it would have to have been approved by the elder two, so ultimately they do not blame the twins for leaving them behind, at least not nearly as much as he blames the others.

Cosmos was even more cautious about Solari than Satellite, being the scariest of their siblings. She could be so mean and they didn’t understand why. When they seemed to be in a good mood she would have him do little tasks for her, going into the Archives to retrieve things for them, which, in hindsight, they now realize she likely could have just magically summoned. But it kept him occupied and taught him about how the Archives were cataloged. She would teach them about each of the creatures and objects that he collected for them. When she was in a bad mood and felt like scaring him was the worst. Sometimes she got so angry that she destroyed things, nothing from the Archive of course, Penumbra would be furious if they did that. But she would smash walls and floors and doors. Sometimes when she broke things, the exploding pieces would hit him. It never really hurt, but she would always immediately apologize and heal them, even if there was never really any damage. Sometimes she would play games with him, her most favorite being the one where they would pick him up with magic and throw them as far into open space as she could, which was mostly fun, though sometimes scary when he was thrown way too far or hit something. It didn’t happen often and he figured a way around both of these issues by counting in their head to a preset number where he would magically stop their flight if he was still going when they reached the number, and they would also use their flight to alter their path to avoid objects. Now that they’re away they wonder if any of their siblings actually loved him.

[11x13kyle]

hardlaunching the yandere cartman masterpost

cartman genuinely, hand to god, believes that stan is in a relationship with kyle to spite him specifically. he believes that he did something in preschool that pissed stan off, and for that, stan is now committed to fucking cartman over by dating, then proposing to, then marrying, then having children with kyle

one time while drunker than he’s ever been in his life he pulls stan aside to confront him, begging him to admit to this longcon. stan is so confused and has no idea what the hell he’s talking about. this drives cartman up a wall because he is allergic to seeing reason.

stan also (much like kyle) can’t process cartman being in love with and psychosexualy obsessed with kyle because it is way too weird and fucked up for him. it makes him VISCERALLY uncomfortable and he is constantly begging kyle to just get a restraining order, which kyle can’t do, because his livelihood is literally tied up in having public arguments with this guy for money 

needless to say, stan and kyle’s relationship (or, to him, “relationship”) makes cartman feel insane levels of rage. he usually just takes this out on stan and kyle in the normal ways, but there have been multiple times where he has tried to murder stan in earnest

his entire life, cartman believes that he Can get stan and kyle to break up, there’s just something he hasn’t figured out yet. he kind of believes that if he succeeds in one of his stan murder attempts that this will woo kyle. for some reason.

one of the stan murder attempts ends like this: cartman is all giddy right before going on the pod that day because he is certain that his most recent attempt worked, so he’s anticipating kyle showing up sobbing, inconsolable because his boyfriend just died of eating poisoned food. instead, kyle shows up perfectly fine and normal. cartman is already mad about this, but it gets worse when kyle offhandedly mentions that a fan sent him and stan and cake, but he says that it “looked like dogshit” so neither of them ate. now cartman is mad about TWO things.

“well you’re WRONG. the cake DIDN’T look like shit. WHATEVER it looked like. and i bet it was a GOOD fucking cake. i’m sure whoever made it put a LOT of effort in and filled it with LOVE and absolutely ZERO arsenic.”

cartman was not invited to their wedding. he still came. kyle factored this into his wedding planning because kyle factored every possible outcome into his wedding planning

kyle paid cartman off to make sure that he didn’t object. 

“FINE. HERE’S $600. NO OBJECTIONS CARTMAN. DON’T RUIN MY FUCKING WEDDING THAT I DIDN’T EVEN INVITE YOU TO.”

once the cartman issue is dealt with, kyle can get back to picking colors and accents for the tablecloths

when cartman sneaks into the wedding he brings cupid me as his plus one because he thinks this may help him to break them up. cupid me is just thrilled to finally have that date -> cartman forgets about his objection plans because cupid me keeps foiling them by making sure the wedding goes PERFECTLY

the months following the wedding re: cartman’s kyle fixation are so bad that listeners start to kind of PITY him

kyle makes a whole point of referring to stan exclusively as his husband on the podcast like listeners don’t know who stan is. this ENRAGES cartman. he responds to most of kyle’s comments with snappish one word answers and then rants about absolutely nothing over and over again. he’s never been this upset over stan and kyle in his LIFE. it is getting harder and harder to believe that this is stan’s longcon but he still is able to convince himself of this because he’s ridiculously delusional

cartman keeps calling him sobbing begging him to leave kyle, threatening to kill himself, the works. he climbs into their window the night before the wedding to try and convince stan to change his mind

stan: *takes long drag of a cigarette* if you think i’m ever going to actually leave kyle, you’re wrong.

when they have children, cartman is incapable of being a “fun uncle” because he is so horrifically jealous that he just acts evil to the style kids

also, tweet about anna khachiyan’s baby that reminds me of this whole thing: 

cartman engages in increasingly cartoonish attempts to murder their babies, such as dangling one of them off a balcony, putting them on one of those moving saws, etc. 

he claims it’s a bit. it’s not a bit.

when they have their second child he’s so mad because the only thing harder than getting away with murdering one infant is getting away with murdering more than one infant

he is so so mega furious that the kids aren’t his, again, he believes this is part of stan’s longcon. whenever they exhibit stanisms or whenever he notices just how much they physically resemble stan this increases his rage

the older the kids get the more verbally nasty he is, but he makes fewer attempts on their lives because its harder to get away with

cartman will do fucking anything. but he is unfamiliar with stan and kyle’s game. as in, the fact that they are legitimately in love and that kyle finds cartman repulsive on every single level. 

[reliquiaenfr]

What's a dragon you have that has gone unnoticed but you are really proud of the story you have come up for them? (I love hearing people ramble about their underrated favorites).

honestly i have no idea which dragons in my lair are noticed by other people and which aren't. but i do know that i am more well-known for my pear dragons than anything else (RIGHTLY SO), so it makes sense that a non-pear dragon would fly under the radar, so here's Lady Ardyn.

i was going through a peach phase at the time, and i was like hey now, peach/bubblegum/caramel seems like a fun combo. the outfit came together so nicely as well, i really wanted to try using one of the big and unwieldy festival pieces and it was like every time i added a new piece i was very slowly uncovering her character until there she was before me: "grieving" widow who killed her husband.

she is unapologetically inspired by mrs white from one of my all time fave movies, clue (the movie).

so lady ardyn's husband "disappeared" and the circumstances were soooooo "mysterious". when they found his body it was like oh no! who could possibly have done this! and she was obviously distraught like omg no her HUSBAND who she LOVED most DEFINITELY has been MURDERED. sad face. crying.

luckily she had her bestest friend in all the world to comfort her. quince makes great comfort food and was absolutely NOT involved (we promise). (also they are definitely NOT involved in romantic relations, no sir police officer sir, how could someone think that of her at a time like this!) lady ardyn has been very cooperative with the authorities in the hunt for whoever killed her husband and she has put up a significant monetary reward for anyone who has information.

AND, it's all entirely libellous, but those accusations that lady ardyn is now taking work as a freelance assassin who kills men who are abusing their partners, siblings, family members, etc... that's DEFAMATION and is not based on any FACTS. there are NO BODIES under quince's peach trees!

there are NO OTHER criminals on the grounds either. no one living at castle cordolium has ever committed war crimes, engaged in the reselling of stolen goods, or performed mad science rituals to create a child from dead matter. no. everyone here is NORMAL. she would never protect anyone suspected of a crime, absolutely unthinkable!

ardyn is actually the entire reason bleakwater exists - the whole tab is her fault. i didn't have a clue where to put her in my lore but i was so enamoured with her character that i had to put her SOMeWHERE, so i just made an entire island for her to preside over. she is unquestionably one of my favourite newer dragons, i would die for her.

[misericordia-writing]

Malevolence

""It’s okay, you don’t have to talk about it. But it’s going to be alright.”

 You can’t believe you’re sitting here trying to comfort a murderer, but life is unexpected."

Chapter 5 of Matchbook

Pairings: Danny “Jed Olsen” Johnson | The Ghost Face/Gender-Neutral Reader

Word Count: 650

Summary: some more fluff. figured y’all needed to be fed, it's been a little bit since the last chapter. ~650 words, set after danny’s laser tag incident in the malevolence tome.

Angst, Fluff

TW for canon-typical violence, toxic relationship

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45585013/chapters/115889152

               He had entered the room hastily through the living room window-- the front door was reserved for Jed, not the Ghost Face. The hooded figure threw his bag down on the floor and stomped away to the bathroom, before slamming the door shut.

               You jump from your place on the couch, having bundled yourself up in blankets, trying to stave off the bone-chilling cold of anxiety, despite the thermometer reading a stable temperature of seventy-two degrees. Abandoned tapes litter the floor, barely shoved back into their cartridges.  Movie after movie after movie, a pathetic attempt at distracting your brain from his absence, and the implications associated with it. You can’t sleep when he isn’t here, and so you’re up at four AM waiting.

               Distantly, you hope that whoever he killed-- or is planning on killing, at least-- deserved it. Clearly, though, something hasn’t gone as planned. Did they get away? You doubt it. Maybe he messed up.

               You shuffle to the bathroom, against your better judgement. It’s been nearly twenty minutes, and the door hasn’t opened. You don’t like being around Danny when he’s angry, but maybe you can help. You listen through the door, hearing him huffing and pacing.

               “Danny?” You ask, quietly, knocking on the door as softly as possible. “Danny, what’s wrong?”

               He doesn’t answer, and so you sit against the wall, pulling your knees up to your chest. “You don’t have to let me in, but I care about you.” You walk back to the living room, picking up the mess you’ve made. You don’t want to set him off any further. Dishes in the sink, sweep the floor, clear away wrappers. You decide to leave his bag in it’s spot on the carpet, in case he gets mad at you for moving it.

               By the time you’re done, it’s almost five in the morning. The door creaks open, and you see him step out into the hallway. You peer up at him from the kitchen, shoulders tensed. You want to say something, but can’t find the courage or the words to do so.

               He walks past you, picking the bag up and hauling it back to the “dark room.” You aren’t allowed to go in, nor do you want to. You know what you will find, and the consequences of damaging the developing film will be severe.

               You grimace, pacing back to the couch. You really hope he’s okay. Then again, you should be wishing that things went wrong. You feel disgusting for being on his side, washing his dishes and waiting for him at home like a lost puppy. You aren’t any better than him. Even if he got caught, what good would it do you? You’d just go down with him. Danny had made this abundantly clear.

               The dark room door shuts, and he walks into the living room. He stares at you blankly. You stare back, unblinking and unsure of his intentions. He sits, looking instead to the wall.

               “What’s wrong?” You question, frowning. He still remains stoic, and so you lay down on the couch, curling your knees up so that you don’t accidentally touch him with your legs. “It’s okay, you don’t have to talk about it. But it’s going to be alright.”

               You can’t believe you’re sitting here trying to comfort a murderer, but life is unexpected.

               He sighs, and looks at you. He looks angry and tired, and so you get up, moving across the sofa to him. “Can I touch you?” You say, gingerly.

               He waits a second, before an affirmative grunt indicates approval. You take his head in your hands, looking into his eyes. “You’re okay. It’s okay.” You press a kiss to his forehead, petting the hair at his nape, before moving your arms down to squeeze a hug around his shoulders. You tuck your face into the dip between his neck and shoulder, putting your full weight onto him.

               And for a moment, all is well again.

[dovahkiin796]

This Damn Room Finally Explained.

I'm so glad we FINALLY got an explanation for this iconic bedroom in Fnaf 4. It's fake. Everything in this room is fake. It along with the hallways, the Plushtrap hallway, bathroom, kitchen, and living room is just one big test chamber built by William Afton to test his hallucinogenic gas on children he had kidnapped so he can measure their fear levels.

Hard to believe some people actually called this years ago. Well, not the fear gas, but this room being used for an experiment.

To address Afton measuring the children's fear. It can be assumed that he knew of the existence of Agony. Agony is used as a blanket term for all negative emotions and fear would be the easiest for kids to express.

It does makes sense William would eventually come across Agony as Remnant is only made when someone dies. Afton knows he can't go on a killing spree in the hopes he can collect some Remnant. That would draw too much attention even if he does get away with the murders. Afton is not dumb, he's an intelligent man who started a business with his partner and best friend Henry. He even ran his own business, "Afton Robotics". What got William killed was his own arrogance. Believing hiding in the suit he wore to kill the missing kids would protect him.

Now onto the hallucinogenic gas. It was a surprising reveal that this whole-time gas was being pumped into the bedroom. Causing whoever was inside to hallucinate the Nightmare Animatronics. Who turned out to be mannequins with Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy costumes on them.

There have been debates if the Nightmares were real, given they have the word nightmare in their names. But in the world of Fnaf. It's entirely possible for William Afton to make actual physical Nightmare Animatronics.

With the reveal of the hallucinogenic gas. These tanks make so much sense now. In UCN they're oxygen tanks, but in the real world they're tanks that hold Afton's fear gas. The main character Rory from Dittophobia comes across them after escaping the bedroom.

There are a few people who don't like this reveal of the gas as it makes William Afton come off as a Mad Scientist. Something the games never hinted at. Which is true and the thing is... he isn't. He's a Mad Engineer from my point of view. But Afton does have to study Remnant and Agony in a scientific manner if he wants to understand how it works and then make himself immortal. Do you want to see Afton brew up some potions, cackle like a witch, and stand around a cauldron, chanting? Cause I sure don't. He needs science to study this supernatural element he discovered to achieve his goal.

Like The Mimic, the fear gas is a welcome addition. It is MILES better than the Illusion Discs and people REALLY don't like them.

I should address Rory since I mentioned him. He's the main character of Dittophobia and he's one of the kids Afton kidnapped for his experiments. NO, we don't play as Rory in Fnaf 4. It's kind of confirmed we're Micheal Afton in the fourth game and I don't think Willaim was experimenting on his own kid.

Anyway. Rory is the last surviving kid of the experiments, and he has been doing this for TEN YEARS! This is because the experiments are automated and at this point William would've already been dead and trapped in the safe room in the Fnaf 1 location. So, no one can stop the experiments. What's mind blowing but something we already knew was the Fanf 4 bedroom connecting to Circus Baby's. But the Funtime Animatronics still being there. Confirming Sister Location is AFTER Five Nights at Freddy's 1 and not before. Like everyone thought it was. Mainly because of Micheal being fired due to his bad odor making people believe he was corpse when working at the Fnaf 1 location.

Dittophobia finally gave us the answer we needed to put to rest a theory that has been in the fandom for years. Great job to whoever wrote Dittophobia.

[thenugking]

1, 11, 13, 20 for Percy?

1. Does your OC have a voice claim, if so who? 

I don’t generally have voice claims for my OCs, but she is Tav Voice Eight. So ig her voice claim is whoever the VA for that is. Apparently Lynsey Murrell. Thanks Lynsey Murrell, sorry I made you play an asshole.

11. What was your inspiration for your OC?

I needed a villain OC to explore more plot, the classic Murder Hobo holds no appeal for me, and I realised I could get some really bad stuff happening just from playing a Tav who was a conflict-avoidant pushover, and oh man is that a fun corruption arc.

I drew on from, uh, certain people I’ve known in real life who self-sacrifice more than is healthy, and then get nasty at other people for having healthy limits and boundaries surrounding what they can do. And added in some religious trauma, and my worries about the kind of person I’d continued believing in the christian god instead of going to therapy.

13. Does your OC have a rival? How did it start?

Pre-game, Percy’s in rivalries with several of the other clerics at the Open Hand temple, primarily Sister Rose the Penitent, who’s a fucking asshole. They just grew up over time, due to Percy being in competition with everyone around her to be the Best, Most Righteous Sufferer. I think some of the other clergy have similar issues going on.

During the game, she kind of builds up an entirely one-sided rivalry with Wyll, who (at least initially) just thinks she’s a nice, if somewhat high-strung person. Percy is Big Mad at meeting someone who constantly puts themself in danger to save other people all the time. And then he has the audacity to tell her that feeding the poor and healing the sick is its own kind of heroism and he admires her too??? Ugh why does he care so much about being the Best Person here? What a fucking asshole. 

20. If they fight, what's their weapon of choice? 

Ilmater is her weapon and her shield uwu.

In game, I gave her the Blood of Lathander because it’s pretty much the best cleric weapon available, but honestly I don’t think she actually knows how to fight with a mace, and would object to using a weapon belonging to the Wrong God. If she’s having to engage in melee combat, she’s using a shortsword (badly). Whenever possible though, she’s going with magic. And very occasionally fangs, after she becomes a vampire spawn.

[adickaboutspoons]

What are your thoughts on season 2 up to this point? I was so excited for this season, but there were some moments I literally said “WHAT?” because they just made no sense to me.

Hi Nonnie! Let me start by reassuring you that you are not the only one. Sorry to leave you on read so long. The short answer to "what are my thoughts on S2 so far" is "it's complicated." The (ramblier and much) longer answer is going under a cut.

Let's start out on a high note - the things that I loved! I know a lot of people for whom it was offputtingly or anxiety-inducingly hard to watch, but I thought Ed's Kraken-era and especially his suicidiality was extremely well done.* I've known more than a few people in my life who have struggled with depression and suicidal ideation, and even some who have lost that battle, and I felt like the writers handled it accurately and sensitively without romanticizing it or bowlderizing it. It IS hard to watch, and it SHOULD be, but it also walks a very fine line between never letting us forget that we should be sympathizing with Ed but not to the point of forgetting or excusing the damage that his path of self-destruction is inflicting on both himself and those around him. And that is a HARD balance to strike, so I really think it deserves special acknowledgement. (real bummer of a high note to start on, huh? Also, that asterisk is there on purpose. I'll get there, I promise.) I loved the mini-arc of the first 3 episodes with the Revenge Crew. Lots of genuinely funny moments (especially from Matt Maher who has just been DEVISTATINGLY funny this season), but still allowing plenty of room for emotional moments to breathe and land. I LOVE Zheng Yi Sao. Ruibo is just FANTASTIC and her line delivery is my everything, and Yi Sao is just delicious as a counterpoint to Calico Jack - a master manipulator whose guile is calculated to be particularly appealing to Stede. Stede's brilliant escape plan is everything that I ever wanted to see and felt like him really coming into his own as a strategist (triumph over a more powerful/more skilled opponent based on his wits, flare for drama, and unconventional way of thinking, using his environment to his advantage, and letting himself be underestimated) and a captain (prioritizing the safety of his crew over personal considerations, even to the point of rescuing the crewmembers he thought responsible for murdering the love of his life).

Speaking of putting aside personal considerations, WHOLLY FUCK did Rhys knock it out of the park with the end of episode 3. I mean, I think that his acting as a whole has just been phenomenal this season - possibly even better than last, but episode 3 especially, and this scene in particular. Like, it is SO HARD to do a "come back to me" scene that isn't trite and a little cheesy, and he just nailed it. (And also the scene itself and how what brought Stede out of his grief and alerted him that Ed was still there was the sound of Ed's ring ON HIS WEDDING FING FINGER knocking on wood as Ed's fingers began to twitch. I mean, whoever is responsble for that detail, KISS ME).

I love everything about the Gravy Basket (except maybe the pigs? I'm still not sure I get that. Except for Hornighost calling Ed thick as pig shit, I don't really see what they could possibly represent in a place where EVERYTHING is symbolic). How subtly they played the whole limbo thing with the blue wash over everything and the costuming and the Bergman-esque camera work. Everything about Hornighost as an externaliztion of Ed self-regard (how Ed panics at and implicitly mistrusts receiving care and nourishment from himself, how receiving negative self-talk makes him mad but isn't contradicted, the way he keeps on attacking and trying to kill himself, even what I can now see as foreshadowing that, while sex is something Ed wants and even considers worth living for, he's profoundly uncomfortable about talking about it). Just all of the delicious metaphorical cronch of the rock of Ed's self-loathing dragging him down into the depths of dispair (where he feels like he's drowning, because love is easy - like breathing - and there is no love to be found here) and juxtaposing that with Stede simultaneously making his own descent into the depths of his grief (and the slow deep exhale he makes on the stairs), and how Ed's self-loathing falls away when he realizes that there's someone out there waiting for him (the whole of "cons" list for not choosing life being his fear that that wasn't true) but how that alone isn't enough to make him resurface.

And now a special paragraph break to talk about merStede because I love it so much and I have so much to say and if I just lumped my merboy in with the rest of the Gravy Basket stuff, it would be an unreadable mountian of textblock. So first, I will never not be blown away by the fact that it was all practical effects. Rhys did an amazing job swimming with a monofin and the tail was beautiful and moved beautifully in the water (and I am also endlessly making out with Taika's wig makers because my REAL hair doesn't look that beautiful underwater). But also the metaphor! About how what Ed wanted more than anything was Stede. But not to save him - or at least not to drag him out of his dispair - but to meet him on his own level

And I love how that becomes a through-line on their relationship through the rest of the show so far - that Ed was right that he could trust Stede to meet him where he is. We see it when Stede starts to reach out to him at Anne & Mary's, but when Ed says "You don't get to say that to me" when it's obvious Stede wants to say "I love you," Stede backs down and says things Ed IS ready to hear. We see it when Stede goes to ramp up the pash in their moonlight kiss, and when Ed says he wants to take things slow, reaching out to hold Ed's hand instead (bonus verifying that it's ok!). We see it when Stede slams Ed into the wall and waits for a nod before going in for a kiss. We see it when Ed says that sleeping together was a mistake and Stede's response is to say "Well, you know, this can be whatever we want it to be" - presumably even if that means backing off from sex without any indication of when it might be on offer again.

Loved the murderwives. They were so fun and zany and batshit and oh look - a perfect example of how poor communication is the relationship killer even for two people perfectly suited to one another.

Loved the return of the David Jenkins school of historical accuracy with the Louis XV table being in an antique shop when it would have been, at best, contemporaneous (and, later, Jackie describing the Swede as a "jackhammer" and talking about Ed wearing "natural fibers" as though anything else would have even been available).

Loved the set-up and payoff of the transmogrification spell. Because of course Buttons can change himself into a bird. Love that for him.

Loved the end of episode 5 - the callback to "you wear fine things well" (and how much it must have meant to Stede that Ed remembered what he said and that he thought of that moment too), Ed's little "here I come" shoulder shimmy to make his bell ring, the way that the moon was a waxing gibbous to signify that their relationship is on the mend but not QUIIIIIIIIIIITE there yet, Stede's hand in Ed's hair, Ed feeling comfortable enough to express his boundaries and Stede respecting them immediately, the handholding and how play has always been a love language for these two. And even finding out Fang's name is Kevin (confirmation that the writers have read Prisons Of Our Own Perceptions? y/y)

Loved the first 3/4 of episode 6. Cousin Balky (hush - I'm old) being a super dramatic bitch? Faboo. Ed feeling a storm coming? I'm getting chills. Fang with a teacup? Adorable. Crew hijinks and being lovely and comfortable together? Magnificent. Ed and Stede being adorable together in a non-romantic context? Yes please! Stede having fun at a party for the first time ever? Magical. Wee John serving the fuck out of his Calypso drag? Awesome. Ed being all tied up? <reaction redacted> And a badass under torture? And so protective of his man? SO fucking baller. Stede winning the day with his people-positive brand of piracy influencing Ned's crew to turn on him? My everything. I even rather liked Con's singing voice.

As for episode 7? Well... The parallel about Ed weighing down his leathers and throwing them overboard as contrasted, say, with him pushing the bride dolly out the window and Hornighost sending him plummeting over the cliff is pretty juicy, and there might be a meta in there later when I can stop being mad about episode 7 long enough to write it. And I literally laughed out loud at Stede's bitchy comment to Izzy about taking a victory lap. Uh... end of list.

As for what I don't love... I'm gonna be real, I've tried to write this section three times now over the course of two days, and it just ends up being novel-length because I keep over-explaining myself. So I'm gonna bullet-point it. If anyone is still reading and wants a more in-depth explanation of any of the below, shoot me an ask.

I think the writers thought they could tell their 10-episode story in 8 episodes if they were just with judicious enough with their editing, and failed. They should have killed their darlings and started from scratch with a story that actually fit the structure rather than forcing all the pacing problems of the season.

Getting back to that *. One of the big pacing problems is that they set up serious shit to deal with, and then didn't have the time to actually give it the proper care it deserved. I'm deeply troubled by how trauma was handled this season - or rather how it was NOT handled. Ed getting abandoned by any support structure the literal day he recovered from a suicide attempt? And then the very next day "that nasty, dark stuff that brought us here is all in the past"? Lucius' trauma being minimalized on three separate occations until it disappears altogether once he rushes his relationship with Pete? All of the Blackbeard's crew stuff just kind of never actually dealt with? I get that it's a comedy show, but the writers not bothering to actually deal with the problems that they set up is lazy and more than a little callous.

I hate the Manly Stede arc. It's antithetical to his established character, to several of the show's main theses, and disconfirmed multiple times within the course of the season to the point of incoherence about why it keeps persisting. And if it's going the way I think it is, where Stede learns that he didn't need to change to be worthy of Ed's love and his crew's respect after all, totally pointless.

Sub-set of Manly Stede arc, but deserving its own special mention, I hate the death of Ned Low. It is a STRUGGLE not to over-explain myself about this one.

Sub-sub-set of the above point - I HATE the sex scene.

Yet another sub-sub-set - I hate the "Stede is embraced by the pirate community for... murdering one of their own?" plot. (Ostensibly) being responsible for the death of two high-ranking British naval officers? Nah. Killing one of his own kind? Toast of the town. Sure.

Just pretty much all of episode 7, really. The conceit of it aside, it put me in a position where I'm far less invested in Gentlebeard than I previously was. Like, I get that the writers want me to be upset that they're miscommunicating and split up (again), but I genuinely don't care. It's the 5th time in 10 episodes that they've pulled this. Sorry not sorry, but there's a law of diminishing returns when you keep pulling the same stunt and the miscommunication upon which it's predicated is contrived. I didn't have patience for this kind of bullshit drama-for-drama's sake when I was a teenager, and I sure as shit don't have it as a grown ass woman.

I hate the Izzy arc. It's poorly set up, poorly developed, and poorly executed. It's riddled with contrivace. I expect that the entire point of it is to make us care about what I suspect is going to happen to him in episode 8, which is so lazy and cheap. I was Izzy-neutral with a "he serves as a great antagonist and I think Con does a smashing job" leaning before this season. I'm so staunchly "reject the premise" about this arc and annoyed by how much limited screentime it's gobbled up that could have been otherwise distributed that I would prolly now consider myself an Izzy-anti. And I know I'm not the only one who feels that way.

Beyond the particulars, I feel like there are underlying issues that make the show unrecognizable as what I fell in love with in season 1. After episode 3, the show seemed to develop an allergy to sincerity, never giving Moments a chance to land and breathe without undercutting them. There no longer seem to be themes providing a frame upon which to hang the narrative structure, or at least, they are quite a lot more muddled and at times contradictory.

Oh - and there's some really racist shit in episode 5 that never gets unpacked or addressed.

[tarnishedinquirer]

Case: The Chapel of Anticipation 1

Wouldn't you know it, I didn't even have to leave this room to find my first case. A fair maiden, body cold but blood still fresh. Something told me she was waiting for me, or maybe someone like me. The attack was clinical and precise. She likely never saw it coming, but her assailant wasn't too keen to seal the deal as she had time to scratch out a message with her finger before she died.

No...not her finger. Some kind of magical writing-finger that can send messages to other worlds. Something to write down in the "things that are possible" column. I'm sure that finger will come in handy later. Laugh with me.

Her last words don't say who killed her. Instead, they read like an apology for dying. Here, in this place my internal narration calls the "Chapel of Anticipation."

Conclusion: She was waiting for me...or, at least, a Tarnished like me. Perhaps an infinite number in infinite worlds. The idea could drive someone mad, but I'm made of sterner stuff. I accept the implication, and focus on this world, the one I live in.

The chapel itself has seen better days. The only light in here comes from a hole in the ceiling to the south, and even though it's night, it seems pretty damn bright. Still, I'd probably have to wait for dawn to see any more.

The way the doors creak, they haven't been moved in a long, long time. Whoever assaulted the maiden did not enter or leave this way, so the only options are either that hole in the ceiling or teleportation.

Apologies. I wrote a long diatribe about the stunning vista I saw when I opened the door, but I had to tear out the pages. As staggering as the sight was, it was unimportant to my investigation. Even now I'm tempted to wax poetic about the castle and the tree, or the ruin of this chapel, but I need to remain focused.

The one thing that still bothered me was the hole in the ceiling of the chapel. It was on the south-south-east side of the building, yet by the bent trees, I could tell that the prevailing winds were from the west. Would not the other side of the building suffer more? I'm not an architect, perhaps one could assist me.

Primary questions:

What caused the hole in the ceiling?

Who murdered the maiden?

Who sent the spider?

Forgive me for the last question seeming a non-sequitur. I'm writing this some time later. Shortly after I finished this entry, I was attacked by a monster with a human face but resembling a spider, called a "grafted scion." I barely even got to look at it before I felt its blades cut through my body. It's a tempting conclusion to jump to, that the spider killed the maiden, yet having felt its blade, I know that to be impossible.

I will have to continue this investigation at a later date, as I fear I will not be able to return for a while.

[andywinter16]

Hi! I've read your kidnapped s/o headcanons and I was wondering if you could do the same for Libertus and Crowe? Have a nice day/night!

Hi there @yuafukuda! Of course I will, I may even do Sonitus and Axis, when I get some time. Enjoy! ❤️

*alowene - heart of hearts

irawi - a star

--

Crowe Altius

If I told you that Crowe totally throwed hands that would be understimated ... SHE WENT ON MURDER SPREE!!!

Whoever kidnapped you should probably pray to their gods, because Crowe will have no mercy!

She took all of her mages with her to save you. Of course her squad came with her too. ( if you ever though mages weren´t cool, reconsider because thirty black mages conjuring a meteor is fucking badass)

When they rescue you, there are no words. She would hold your cheeks and kiss you so passionately it will take your breath away (she may even cry, yeah you made CROWE ALTIUS cry!!!)

when you´re back home with her, Crowe will lavish you in physical contact ( and bakes you some of your favourite sweets)

will buy you some self defense weapon (and will teach you how to use it)

becames more paranoid and kindly asks of you to message her frequently ( or at least share your location) after this ( please, she´s worried for your safety)

"Bold of them assume I will let them take you away from me, irawi."

Libertus Ostium

Libertus is a WRECK and full of Galadhian RAGE! (I am not gonna lie there Libertus and Titus are scary when mad)

Lib under emotional influence makes reckless shit decisions ... So him going to find you alone was one of them (Don´t worry, his friends got his back)

if you get hurt, no one is safe before his wrath (boy will be so freaked out)

Lib will have you in his embrace as soon as possible, kissing you feverishly ("I am sorry, so sorry alowene. I am here now.")

there was an argument that you shoudn´t go out without him. Don´t worry, it was solved that Lib will buy you a guard dog ( he wanted a sabertusk cuz in Galadh is normal to have them as "house protector", sadly not in Insomnia)

did I told you, that Lib will absolutely spoil you with his cooking and attention? No? Then now you know, love

[rockclimbinglover12107]

My fave Tvd characters ( or ones that I don’t actively want to murder )

Please bear in mind that this is just my opinion and you can like whoever you want. Also this list only includes characters from TVD and one from TO.

1. Katherine Pierce

I absolutely loved Katherine, to the point where I lost interest in the show soon after her death (although this was more due to decline in quality). I liked her in s2 for her power and iconic personality / quotes, as well as her complex, interesting history. As the seasons progressed, I also felt sorry for her, especially when they screwed her over at the end of her life in s5, just to bring her back and ruin her again in s8. I understand that her character had flaws but I am still mad that she went to hell but flipping Klaus Mikaelson didn’t. Another thing that made me enjoy her was the brilliant acting from Nina Dobrev, who shone in the role of a badass yet glamorous villain and brought real personality to the part, despite her lazy and inconsistent storyline. She was a funny and iconic character, who was screwed over by everyone she ever met including her own father, all of her boyfriends and her doppelgänger and suffered to much for a 17 year old girl.

2. Rebekah Mikaelson

Rebekah always intrigued me, even though I found her annoying on my first watch of TVD, mainly due to her constant misguided loyalty to her brother. However, I came to realise that she was a victim of Klaus, just like everyone else, and that he was abusive and controlling towards her. After realising this, I was able to fully appreciate her character and the way she only wanted love and roasted the MF gang on many occasions. I especially enjoyed her sisterly relationships with Freya and Hayley and wished that she had become friends with Katherine, because that pairing would have been legendary.

3. Freya Mikaelson

She was the only reason that I managed to make it through any of TO and it was refreshing to see another powerful main witch aside from Bonnie. As I mentioned above, I loved her relationship with Freya and Hayley and liked her protectiveness. However, her loyalty to her family sometimes annoyed me, as I couldn’t stand her brothers. She deserved better than the Mikaelson men and Hope, who, from what I’ve seen, is the most annoying, whiny, overpowered teenage girl in the TVDU.

4. Matt Donovan

Everybody hates on this guy and I don’t understand why. He was just a normal teen with an absent father and an irresponsible, mostly absent mother, whose sister died when he was young, along with half of his friends. In my opinion, his dedication to staying a human and sticking to his morals was admirable and his relationships with many of the girls were cute and non-toxic. People only hate him because he isn’t some angsty, rebel heartthrob and happened to dislike many of the fan favourites.

5. Vicki Donovan

The writers really looked at this girl in s1 and were like “Let’s make her life as miserable as possible”. She grew up with terrible parents, had a drug problem, dated pre-redemption arc Tyler Lockwood, became a ripper and then died at the hands of a 100 year old monster. The worst part is that people dislike her because they found her issues “annoying” but then praise characters like Stefan, Klaus and Damon who all had serious mental illness as well.

6. Lexi Branson

She was a friendly and supportive person who died too soon and should have stayed on the show longer. Her attitude towards Katherine/Elena could have been interesting and her hatred of Damon was hilarious.

7. Elena Gilbert

Although I could hardly stand her in s4&6 and especially s5, I thought that she was an interesting character in the early seasons with a somewhat nice personality and a sense of nobility that many characters lacked. She doesn’t deserve all of the hate that she gets but I definitely understand why people don’t like her. I also think she should have been more sympathetic of Katherine and Rebekah, but I think that her feelings and opinions were always heavily manipulated by the Salvatore brothers.

8. Kai Parker

He brought some much needed excitement and comic relief to the very dreary s6 and he treated Katherien with the respect that she deserved. However, he suffered from the fact that he was a newcomer in the time when the show’s spirit started to die.

9. Jenna Sommers

This poor woman was left to look after two traumatised teenagers, after her only sister died, and put up with the constant drama of Mystic Falls. She was one of the few innocent people on this entire show and she deserved a happy ending, instead of being killed by a man she had never done anything to.

10. Hayley Marshall

She was interesting and funny, although she was sometimes annoying, and she put Caroline in her place when she was being particularly annoying. Every time she defied Klaus or Elijah I was like GO GET IT GIRL! However she, like Katherine, had a terrible taste in men, seeing as she went after the Mikaelson brothers.

These are all of my fave charcters on TVD. Hope you like at least one of these people.

[euphoricfilter]

I shouldn't be surprised at the amount of haters for gender fluid jk but like... Yeah, it's a work of fiction, first of all, its not that deep. Some of y'all are chill with a/b/o dynamics but not with playing with gender? 🤨 secondly, it's jungkook. THE jungkook. Are they telling me him possibly using different pronouns is a turn off? 🤨🤨🤨 that's so weird, the man could seriously be into feet and I'd still love him if he let me ((i dont mean to compare queerness with a fetish, it's just the example that popped up first)). i dont get queerphobia in general (bc we're just, ya know, existing??) But yeah, if you're not into something, scroll on? Mind your business?? Nobody is getting hurt here.

And their idea that you portraying him as queer is "dehumanising" is especially telling of their morals and I don't care for it at all.

Idk, you're doing amazing sweetie, we don't listen to the phobes, good job

i told my best friend when i started writing gender fluid jk that i just know someone’s gonna come in my inbox and be an absolute bitch about it. no joke, not even an hour after i posted the teaser someone had already said something. not even the full fic, just the teaser??

but that’s what i’m saying!! if you’re gonna get mad about me changing pronouns then why are they okay with jungkook as a hybrid, a/b/o, yandere, shitty mafia guy that murders people, a real mean bitch of a man that’s hella misogynistic. like ??? it’s a story, just like every other fan fic trope that exists that they’ve probably read?

boo hoo i made yoongi a lesbian 🍅 mega boooo because i gave jungkook he/they pronouns 🍅🍅🍅 suck my dick

it’s not that deep. and non binary, lesbian, gender fluid, gay, trans, all the works armys exist 🚶‍♀️be real, let everyone have a little fun sometimes, like i know within the community it’s not always easy to find fics that are completely relatable, and that’s why i love the representation

SERIOUSLY!!! disclaimer before i get weird people in my inbox again, but literally jungkook has never specified his pronouns. and that’s not me saying he should be nonbinary or gender fluid plus, once again since apparently it didn’t stick the first time, it’s a story

fictional jungkook isn’t gonna give you cooties because he’s gender fluid. he’s living his best life with his cutie partner 🚶‍♀️

LMAO i understand what you mean though, literally jungkook can be into whatever, or whoever, he can like what he wants, identity as what he wants and that’s not gonna throw me off, have you seen that guy. i would commit multiple war crimes for him

that’s what i said :( just unfollow me, block me even, i don’t care. it’s not that deep and i’m not gonna miss them at all.

it’s just, i guess upsetting that someone would come onto my page and say something that isn’t true about me when they clearly know nothing?? and then treat me like i’m the ignorant one 🚶‍♀️

i hope they know bts absolutely hates them for being queerphobic. yoongi has our back fr 🙏

yay thank you babes 🫂💕 kicking my legs and giggling or whatever because you’re so sweet. please accept a smooch ‼️ MWAH

[pterodactylterrace]

Yes, he refers to them as “our” sons. Congrats, you caught me! Oh woe is me! How will I ever recover from this faux pas? With simple facts, logic, and understanding of what I’m watching.

Ever think maybe he could have a change of heart after losing his sister and feeling completely powerless about it? Nope? Not gonna consider the very obviously poor mental state he was in? Don’t care that Qarl had to drag him out of the ocean where he was basically sitting catatonic? Didn’t think maybe he wanted to feel some semblance of control after it has been denied to him multiple times? Can’t fight in the Stepstones. Can’t stay at the red keep. Can’t tell the truth about the kids his wife popped out. Can’t be openly gay. His beloved sister just died and he felt powerless because of it. He says so himself, but I’m guessing you want to ignore that line as it doesn’t fit your narrative. Certainly he wouldn’t want to feel some sense of control in his life after having none over several big issues. Nah, the obvious answer is that he was happy to be humiliated!

Your argument would hold a lot more weight if Rhaenyra didn’t cut him loose directly after this, just by the way. He was willing to do something that made him unhappy because he was depressed and feeling like a failure. She decided she wanted to fuck Daemon instead, so Laenor had to go. He was expendable to her. That’s straight cold.

“He’s OUR son, is he not?” “You’re forcing me to pretend they are mine, at least let me name one” Subtext. Not hard to understand nor interpret.

It’s not found family when your wife fucks her bodyguard and forces you to pretend they are yours. That’s a nightmare.

Who gave Rhaenyra permission to dine as she pleases? Oh, Laenor! Who agreed to let him do the same? Oh, Rhaenyra! Who also lobs homophobic comments at him? Also Rhaenyra.

Clearly she doesn’t hate the gods for making him as they did. First off, she isn’t religious. Second, if he was straight, she couldn’t fuck whoever she wanted to. Don’t confuse her selfishness with compassion. She made 3 homophobic comments in one scene. Telling him she isn’t mad that he is gay ONCE doesn’t make her less homophobic.

Who else knows about their open marriage? Harwin and Qarl. To the rest of the realm, he is being cheated on. He has the reputation of being a cuckold, because of Rhaenyra. That probably made the rumors of his homosexuality even louder. Something incredibly frowned upon in Laenor’s religion.

Rhaenyra isn’t a “friend”. Friends don’t make homophobic comments to you and then force you to leave everything behind or die because they have no further use for you.

Is it an affair or not? Is it only cheating when Laenor does it now? You are contradicting yourself here. Pick a narrative and stick with it.

Heirs? They are not his blood. They are bastards. They have no legitimate claim. He did not gain heirs. He gained a wife guilty of treason.

Now to wrap this up: Jace was born the same year Rhaenyra married Laenor. The means they tried for a MAXIMUM of 3 months before Harwin knocked her up. This was just after his boyfriend was murdered in front of him. It’s going to take more than 3 months for him to feel up to trying a new sexual experience.

Also? It is entirely possible for gay men to have sex with a woman, and even finish! I know. My older brother thought he got the girl he was experimenting with pregnant. He met the man that would become his husband a few months later. Never looked back. It’s entirely possible, given the chance for a gay man to procreate. Laenor was not given a chance. This could very well have been something he wanted (legitimate heirs) but was denied the chance because she decided to sleep with Harwin instead. Most couples aren’t considered to have fertility issues until they have tried for more than a year to get pregnant. Laenor was not given a chance.

Edit: sorry, I missed the homework assignment! So in that scene I see a deeply depressed man saying he wants to do better because he feels like a failure. Wonder why he feels like a failure. Surely not because of the way we have seen Rhaenyra treat him. I also see a woman dismissing him as he is trying to recommit himself.

That’s not platonic love. This is Laenor at his fucking breaking point and Rhaenyra casting him aside for Daemon. I feel gross having to explain that to you. This isn’t what platonic love looks like.

Laenor does not accept the Strong boys as his trueborn sons.

He admits it HIMSELF, but apparently everyone missed it.

Season 1. Episode 6.

Rhaenyra: “Dark rumors are hunting us Laenor. They nip at our heels. Questions about our son’s parentage. Vile, disgusting insinuations.”

Laenor: *scoffs* “Insinuates, are they?”

Rhaenyra: “They are our sons!”

Rhaenyra goes on about how their son’s “true father” won’t abandon them now. Laenor insists that he has played his part for the last ten years.

That sounds a lot more like Rhaenyra forcing him to play happy family in public and not him ‘accepting them as his own’. He admits he doesn’t think of them as his when he laughs at the idea that people are only insinuating they aren’t his. Even he knows how laughable the situation is. Rhaenyra then uses her station to prevent him from going to war and to stay by her side.

Y’all are aware that Rhaenyra is actually pretty abusive to Laenor, right? She isn’t above making snide homophobic remarks at him when he isn’t on her good side.

“Guzzling all the ale in flea bottom along with gods know what else” insinuates fellatio

“Wagging your sword around and winking at sailors” that’s just straight homophobic, imo. Double entendre for penis handling, and mocking him for flirting with men.

Forces him to play happy family.

Refuses to allow him to go fight like the knight he is.

That was all from a single scene, mind you! To add on, she expects him to be grateful because he has a lavish lifestyle.

Thing is… the Velaryons were one of the richest houses in the seven kingdoms. He already HAD all those things to begin with. So really, what does he even gain from this relationship? Seems like he gains ridicule from everyone that knows he is a cuckold and free berating from his wife over something he can’t even control.

Seriously, the more I watch this show, the worse I feel for Laena and Laenor. Both trapped in loveless marriages to a Targaryen that cheats on them. Oof.

(There is a deleted scene of Daemon flirting with a man while in Pentos. He was unfaithful to Laena, they chose not to show it. Hopefully because they realized what a bad look it was for two POC to be cheated on by light skinned blondes known for being obsessed with blood purity)