#bc they kinda treated me like shit

[theartofascending]

…

[twobellsilence]

bro I don't understand how people don't catch that Jimmy hits Curly the second time he gives him his meds. Like you can hear Curly's confused "huh?" sound after the first blow, and he groans and yells in pain as more rain down on him before he eventually breaks down SOBBING. If it was him thrashing maybe there would be muted thumps, maybe he'd choke more forcefully, but he clearly isn't in a state to flail and toss with enough strength to create the noises we hear. Not only that, but Jim is very openly aggressive in his dialogue... And Curly becomes eerily still after the audio finishes playing, so much so that you can't even hear his usual labored breathing. I've seen very few people acknowledge this or even notice during gameplay and simply go "man curly really doesn't want his meds huh" and I guess it's a relatively small detail in the grand scheme of things but personally I really feel like it's an important indicator of just how much Jimmy resents Curly and how he sees him as subhuman when he can no longer be of use to him and realizing what actually happened is important to understanding Jim's relationship with Curly

[vitrall]

I don't think Jayce and Viktor literally died. They were kind of pulled into another dimension/astral plane/whatever you call it. We see older Viktor, and while it could be another Viktor, I think it would be more meaningful if it was our Viktor, finally free from the arcane, going through the universe with Jayce, fixing timelines together. Kind of like a cosmic mission.

[crybaby-bkg]

“Are you ever angry?” You ask quietly, head resting in Bakugou’s lap. His thumb pauses where it strokes your cheeks, the far away gaze in his eyes suddenly snapping into focus as he looks down at you. He looks…different than you remembered, before you both were cast out of the pearly gates.

His hair doesn’t shine as bright as it used to, and it falls a little flatter without the halo pulling it up, soft. His eyes still hold that hardened gaze as a battle angel, but they’re deeper now. More sunken in and hollow, the flickering ichor now a stained crimson. His face is scarred and his hands are rough after the fall but he’s just—different.

“About what?” He asks, his lips pursed in confusion. You reach a hand up, stroking over his bottom lip, smooth a hand through his hair. You can almost feel the throbbing light radiating from him, can almost see how broad and ivory his wings would spread and hold you tight to him.

“It all. Everything. The fall.” You whisper, try not to shrink into yourself with the way Bakugou’s lip curls back in disgust. He pulls away from you and you sit up, resting on your knees, looking at him in such a way that his heart pangs in his chest.

His heart, something he’s never had a reason for when he still had his fists bathed in heavenly fire and no ounce of rebellion hidden under sinless skin. It aches in his chest at the mention of life after being kicked out with the only thing he could hold onto—you.

“Why would I miss my thoughtlessness? My inability to make a decision for myself? Why would I miss being a pawn?” Bakugou is all snarls, all snapping teeth and jowls, but it doesn’t scare you. He’s never scared you, even when his gait was limp from the impact of hard soil, and his hands grew rough, and his back grew jagged from ripped feathers.

“I miss it.” You whisper so carefully into the humid night, hands reaching for his own trembling ones. “I want to be holy again, Katsuki.”

He hisses at you, snatching away like you’ve burned him, like you’ve seized his halo and ripped it into two until it split into horns. Looks at you with such heavenly fire burning in his gaze that you want to shrink beneath him.

“Well—well I don’t. Find someone else who will, cause it sure as hell ain’t me.” You wonder who he’s trying to convince here, with his shaky voice and fluttering eyes and trembling mouth. You stare at him for a long while, lips wobbling at the gravity of it all. Your head hangs low, gathering yourself in your arms, head bowed to him—it’s the only thing you’ve ever known.

“Just hold me for now.” You murmur, eyes low as you settle yourself in his arms, forcing your way into his hold. “Please?” You tack on, unafraid of his bite, his snarl, his growl. Bakugou sits there stiffly for what feels like a century, but you’re used to waiting.

He gathers you in his arms slowly, pulling you into his chest, his body covering yours completely. And if you let yourself relax enough, you can almost feel the warmth of his wings surrounding you again.

[flying-cat]

It was crazy watching bkdk go from the most hated ship to the most popular ship in the fandom

[lord-squiggletits]

As much as I'm a Pharma apologist he is genuinely an asshole who acts completely unrepentant so something I think about for an eventual Pharma redemption fic is like. How do you write a redemption for a severely traumatized guy whose coping mechanism is to act like he doesn't care and the people who need to accept him don't like/care about him enough to go "hey it's okay everyone gets a second chance" and/or "wow Pharma is so radically different what caused that change."

But also like it's really hard to help someone who has no desire to/refuses to be helped and makes himself deliberately unpleasant to be around so like idk

[sluckythewizard]

BUT IM NOT A WRITER. something strange possessed me to write my first proper fanfic in maybe a decade. be niceys to me but also grill me so i can get stronger. this one is a stupidly self indulgent bit between Soda and Emizel, a day or so after emizel was sired. CW for gore descriptions, but thats about it i think. image below is a snippet of the start. the rest of the whole dang thing will be under the cut. ive never posted fanfic ever in my life. read my tags for secret behind da scenes commentary

"Oh shit… I think hes dead…" It was another night, another patrol, another fight, and another win, for Emizel and Soda.

Under moonlight, under street light, under interwoven wires above, the two stood here in a quiet and damp alleyway. The air was drenched with the smell of a previous rain, and the puddles of said storm remain huddled in corners and pot holes.

One splashed as soda found himself stepping forwards into one. The residual adrenaline of the fight had left his body shaking, his heart still pounding, his wounds still throbbing. They had still won; or more-so, Emizel had won. A particularly nasty blow to the side had Soda reduced to the side lines for most of the fight, left to watch as his newly vampiric comrade had absolutely eviscerated the competition.

Emizel had only been turned a day ago, but it was impossible not to notice how it had changed him. He already acted so goddamn confident, so on top of the world, and this newfound power, newfound speed and strength, only built upon his insane ego.

The Fangs that they encountered here on this night stood no fucking chance. Emizel was too quick, too strong, and he easily chased off the rivals. It was only now, as the final unfortunate opponent had turned to flee, a clean clock in the jaw sent the human tumbling to the ground with a dull thump, and it did not move afterward.

Soda shifts his shoe out of the puddle, the cold seeping into his sock being one of the few things keeping his mind in his body in the moment. Is the guy breathing?

A low laugh bleeds from Emizel as he stretches his arms, licking his sharpened teeth as he stares off in the direction the remaining Fangs went. Soda knew that look on his face, the look of a tiger pondering on its next kill, he knew well that Emizel wanted to chase them.

But the guy on the ground.. It was one punch to the face, and the wicked crack sound that came from it had planted a seeding dread within Sodas chest.

As he steps forward, around the puddle, the resulting sound made Emizels attention click back over to Soda, the snap of his gaze making Soda flinch.

The two lock eyes, and Soda weakly gestures to the limp body on the floor. "The uh.. I think.. Is that guy dead?" He finally asks, having a hard time keeping contact with Emizels intensely red eyes.

Emizel turns his attention to said body, tilting his head as he goes to kick at the thing, turning it over. "Man no way hes dead, I punched him once." He mutters.

"Well, yeah, but his head almost twisted all the way around when you did.." Soda steps up to stand beside Emizel, the two boys standing with their hands in their pockets, down at this unfortunate, limp body.

"Should we hide it?" Soda asks, glancing back over at Emizel, who had.. An odd look on his face. He was clearly pondering something, but Soda could only guess whatever was going on in that brilliant head of his. He knew and trusted that Emizel was smart. If anyone could figure out what to do about this, it would be him.

But the lack of an answer had anxiety chewing at the back of Sodas rib cage, and after a second, he speaks up again, compelled to fill what he perceived as a tense silence. "Like.. I dunno, I've never uh... killed a guy..." He shrugs, prompting Emizel to let out a big sigh.

"He's not dead man, just out fuckin cold." Emizel kneels down next to the body, putting an ear up to its chest, and pondering on that for a moment. An uncertainty twists his expression, as he decides to instead place a hand on the victims throat, checking for a pulse. A moment passes, and seemingly finding nothing, he pulls back.

"Uh... Okay, so he might be dead."

Something about the confirmation from Emizel made a shiver run up Sodas spine. That, or maybe it was just the breeze agitating the cold water in his shoe.

"Huh… Damn.." Was all that Soda could really get to leave his mouth. Which was hardly a splash compared to the torrent that was slowly churning in his head. They just killed a guy. Or, Emizel just killed a guy. And it was so easy. They had to hide the body now, right? That was the usual progression here? Getting caught for murder was way more extreme than getting caught for breaking mailboxes with soda cans. It was so, so disturbingly easy. It really was just one punch. It's not like the Fangs are weak by any means, so just one punch? And this guy is dead? Forever?

Or, perhaps by human means, their rivals were fairly tough. But Emizel was on a whole other level. No mortal could stand up to him now...

"Hey, are you okay?"

The question had pulled Soda back from his head, his gaze flicking back over to Emizel, who was looking up at him with those eerie, piercing red eyes. Soda felt another shiver.

"Uh, ieah man, I'm all good." Soda nods, swallowing down whatever anxiety was bubbling up in his throat.

But Emizel didn't seem satisfied by his answer, standing back up and staring down his human comrade. Soda couldn't meet his eyes, his gaze instead traveling downward, and pausing on Emizels red, cut-up shirt. There was something off about the color, the way it seemed darker in some spots, brighter in others.. Wait, wasn't Emizel wearing a white shirt before all this?

The vampire boy seems to pick up on Sodas expression, following his eyes down to his shirt. "Oh, yeah! While you were on the floor, the knife guy got me a little" He says, a stupidly simple smile on his face. Soda was about to let out a laugh at how unbothered his friend seemed by it, but it gets caught in his throat when Emizel goes to pull his shirt up.

The sound of the bloodied fabric peeling away from skin made Sodas own skin crawl, but that wasn't nearly as bad as the sight of the intense gash running from his collar bone, down to his stomach.

"Oh, fuck dude!" Soda gasps, but Emizel laughs it off. Even despite knowing Emizel well, Soda was still surprised by just how much Emizel could shrug off. "Shit, doesn't that hurt, dude?"

"Oh yeah this fucking hurts!" he says with a laugh, his smile big and toothy and proud as he presents this egregious wound. Swollen and angry, pulsing with a slow heartbeat, and still oozing with thick, dark blood.

The sight of the split flesh, and the glints of bone beneath the dark, dark red all tugged at Sodas gag reflex, and yet he couldn't pull his eyes away. So Emizel's just been walking and talking so normally this whole time with his chest just cleaved wide open? Soda felt just as impressed as he felt horrified.

It wasn't until Emizel reaches down to poke at the abhorrent wound that Soda snaps out of it. Watching his friend press his fingers into the bloodied flesh, and slowly pulling it apart, allowing more ichor to seep from the gash, it was too much to watch at this point.

Soda reaches up to put a hand on Emizels wrist, the vampire boy stopping, and looking up at his friend.

Soda found himself freezing again when he locks eyes with Emizel. He was going to say something now, right? "U-uhm.." Is all he really chokes out, giving Emizels wrist a gentle tug. "D-do you. Uh. I suppose a hospital Isn't a place you can go anymore..?"

Emizel just smirks at that, letting Soda pull his hand away from the wound. "Oh, yeah no, but it's fine. I mean, I don't think it's gonna kill me" He shrugs. It was so, so impressive just how unphased Emizel was by all this. Fuck he's actually so cool.

"Well yeah man but it's like, still a bleeding hole. Like you're soaked in blood dude, I'm pretty sure that even a vampire needs that stuff on like, the inside." Soda rubs the back of his head, still unnerved by the sight of it all. "Vampires have like, super healing, don't they?"

"Oh yeah like, regeneration powers. I know I heal faster sometimes but I dunno how to just, activate it on command.." Emizel hums, his eyes narrowing down at his own injury, as if trying to will it into mending. Soda looks away, unable to watch that vile gash ooze any longer.

"I dunno man, how do they do it in like, video games?" Soda tosses the question out, trying to click together some sort of solution in his own head.

"Uhhh.. Huh, video games.." Emizel repeats to himself, chewing on the thought while idly poking at the laceration; until an idea audibly flickers to life in his head. "Oh, I just gotta refill my blood meter. Or whatever."

"Oooh yeah, blood meter!" Soda perks up, "Of course, see this is why you're the brains, man" Soda smiles, glancing back over to his cool friend, but immediately needing to look away again when the sight of that egregious gash tugs bile back into his throat.

While Soda averts his eyes, Emizels eyes wander back over to the body, and that classic 'Emizel has a bad idea' smile creeps across his face.

"Well, if this guys dead, I'm sure he's not gonna need all that blood.." He grins, kneeling down next to the body again.

The word 'wait' had hardly gotten the chance to crawl from Sodas mouth, before Emizel lifts up the arm of the unfortunate body, pulling the sleeve back, and immediately sinking his teeth into the exposed wrist.

The sound and the sight of blood gushing around Emizels teeth made Soda cringe, his hand impulsively coming up to aide his own wrist. An empathetic phantom pain made his wrist ache, his imagination simulating the feeling of shark teeth cutting into skin, sinking deep into the flesh, and clacking against bone. That was a lot of blood, that was streaming down the arm of this fodder.

A low growl bleeds from Emizel as he adjusts his teeth, cutting into more flesh, opening the wound further, and allowing a pulsing torrent of red to stream down his chin, onto his coat. It was an annoying thing, to clean blood out of clothing. Most of the Demons deemed it easier to just let the stains remain. But the night that Emizels throat was torn open, and liters upon liters were granted freedom from his human form, the unbelievable mess had practically changed half the color of Emizels iconic coat.

That was the first time Soda had ever seen that much blood from one person. And well. This would probably be the second.

The sight was unnerving, but it was impossible to look away. The alley was quiet, save for the distant bustle of a distant city, which made the noisy squish and squelch of teeth gnawing on flesh all the more apparent and nauseating.

Emizel had become a monster for sure, and watching it feed on something was… thrilling, in a way. It reminded Soda of feeding a pet spider, or lizard. A mouse for a snake.

It's a heavy thing to witness, the end of a human life. The fear of death is a primal thing, and Soda was no different from any other living thing. He figured everyone else feared death just as much as he does. Well, maybe except for Emizel, of course.

It made sense. Emizel was such a cocky and noisy kind of guy, but hes always had the power to back it up. Even when he lost, or seemed at his lowest, Soda still saw this sort of fire in him, one that Soda admired.

Of course Emizel would be the one to become something like a vampire. Something that Soda had always figured was just a fantasy creature thing. He wondered; if vampires were real, what else was real? Werewolves? Zombies? Unicorns? Are there real demons? Like from hell? Is hell real? Is he going to hell?

The sudden ttteeeeaaaaarrrr of flesh rips soda from his wandering thoughts. Emizel was tugging his head away from the arm of his kill, his teeth clamped down into the chewed meat, and pulling it apart. Soda had seldom seen so much of the inside of a human arm, and the sight of spilling threads and squirming veins was hardly something he ever wanted to stomach again.

"Oh fuck, dude, hey-" Soda steps forward, raising a hand, but the way Emizel snaps his head back over to him, twisting to an unnatural degree, Soda cant help jolting back.

Reddened teeth glint menacingly in the low light, a threatening growl thundering from its clenched, dripping jaws. Emizels eyes were focused, yet wild, glowing with whatever light they could reflect.

Sodas eyes were wide, and his body was frozen in the thick, electric tension within the air. It was like staring down an angry dog.. Suddenly a light bulb in his head flickers to life. It was kind of like an angry dog, right? One hunched over a meal it didn't want to give up. Memories of old encounters and unfortunate dog bites resurface in Sodas head, and with that experience, and with those lessons learned, he gathers the courage to react.

He shuts his eyes, keeping them closed for a few seconds, as he slowly pulls back his arm, and slowly steps back. It was an eye contact thing, wasn't it? Eye contact makes dogs angry, right? That was how you dealt with an angry dog? As he pulls back, and takes in a breath for composure, he finally dares to peek at the angry vampire before him again.

Its snarling had died down, but its eyes were still trained intently on Soda. After a tense, and agonizingly, slow pause... It blinks back, lowering its head back down to its meal, but keeping its anxious stare on this potential threat.

A relieved sigh falls from soda as the tension finally melts. He didnt realize he was holding in so much of his breath. "O-okay, man.. It's yours, you uh.. Earned it.." Soda mutters, stepping back further, until he was standing in a sufficiently dry enough space to sit down in. Now that he wasn't standing, he was finally taking into mind just how much his hands were shaking.

It's odd. Soda couldn't really describe this feeling thrumming in his chest as something like fear.. Nausea? For sure. Disturbed and rattled? Oh absolutely. This was certainly a sight he would have a hard time scrubbing from his eyelids when he sleeps tonight. But he wasn't scared. The memory of the night that Emizel was sired still coated the inside of his mind like an unwashable film. Even in that moment, when the unnatural teeth from the unnatural maw of an unnatural thing hovered over his throat, he couldn't say with confidence that he was scared.

Emizel really is his best friend in the world. And he knows with his whole heart that Emizel feels the same. He knew and trusted that his best friend would never hurt him. Not too badly at least. He loves Emizel, and would give anything to support him.

Like a mouse to a snake.

This really is an incredible power that his comrade had come across, and Soda especially felt a sort of pride in his friend. He felt it was worth it to help him feed it.

The bile in his throat had made its point, and Soda agreed, that watching someone die, and get torn apart and drained might be too much for him. Despite how much he hated the Fangs, the end of any human life seemed like such a jarring thing. To have such an intense fear finally get confronted. Would he go to hell?

Maybe he couldn't just feed people to his friend. So an alternative could be donated blood, right? Soda wouldn't mind giving up something like blood. His body makes it for free, after all. Maybe some other Demons would agree to give up some blood too. But they shouldn't have to take on such a burden. Soda wouldn't mind being the only one. The only one. The only one.

His hand comes up to rub at his neck, as his imagination conjures up what it might feel like to have teeth sink into his flesh. He's been stabbed before, is that sort of what it would feel like? Would he have to get stitches? He didn't really want to get stitches, so maybe there could be a more effective way to get the blood out of him. And there was so much vital stuff in his neck too. There's' a vein that's safe to cut into somewhere, right? He would have to look that up later.

A STARTLING RINGING;

Splits the moment,

Prompting both Soda and Emizel to jolt in shock,

As the phone in Emizels pocket rings away.

Acting as if nothing abnormal had taken place, Emizel pulls out his phone, and answers it.

"Heyy, Johnny! Yeah we chased em off, I don't think those bastards will be infesting this street again anytime soon. Yeah, ieah we'll be heading back soon. Oh fuck yeah dude, save us some!"

Emizel covers the speaker of his Nokia, turning back to Soda with a big smile on his violently bloodied face. "They got some pizza waiting for us back home, dude!" he whispers out to him.

Soda does his best to crack a smile, and to suppress the look of unease that probably stained his face, as he stares at the literal murder scene that's been splattered about in front of him.

"Oh, yeah, hell yeah man.." He swallows down the bile again. "What kind of uh.. Soda did they get?"

Emizel ponders that, before turning back to the phone to ask Sodas question.

"Sprite and a big pack of that one strawberry mountain dew" Emizel tosses the answer back over to Soda, who gives a nod, and thumbs up.

Mountain dew is so neat, Soda really liked all the wacky flavors those guys come up with. The thought of going home and opening a can of soda was certainly a comfort. After witnessing all this blood and gore and viscera, Soda absolutely needed to get back home and get a nice cold glass of something bright red .

As Sodas mind wanders off to soda, Emizel wraps up the conversation on the phone, before hanging up, and standing up.

The movement had pulled Sodas mind back into the moment, enough for him to timidly voice a concern he's had since the start of this debacle.

"Uh, hey, so.. The body, should we… Uh.." He gestures vaguely to it, and Emizel grants it a nonchalant glance.

"Eh, I can toss it into a dumpster or something, I dunno. I'm sure its fine. I'll handle it."

The vampire boy goes to pick up the corpse, the wound in its mangled arm no longer even dripping with blood, the flesh pale from the absolute absence of red in its veins.

"Go ahead and meet me by that one mailbox, the one with the bullet hole in it." Emizel casually instructs, tossing the drained body over his shoulder. "I'll catch up."

"Uh, yeah, okay.." Soda musters up a nod, and the strength to rise back up to his feet, wincing as that bruise on his side makes itself loudly known again. He still felt anxious, but even despite it all, he knew he could trust Emizel to take care of things. He always does. "Just stay safe man, I'll see you there." Soda assures with a smile, and Emizel matches it, tossing him a wink. And then suddenly- -He's gone! If Soda had blinked he would've missed it, but he was fortunate enough to just barely catch the glimpse of Emizel darting off at an inhuman speed, probably looking for a place to dump the body. Right, he would take care of it. Emizel always makes sure his crew is taken care of. Well... Guess all that's left for Soda is for him to walk back to that meeting spot. He looks around the alley for a moment, taking in the sight of that enormous pool of blood in the middle of the concrete. Or whatever the floor of this alley is made from. He ponders on the present moment a little longer than he meant to, the shock of it all leaving him aimless for just a few, soothing moments of just, decompression. The night is quiet, vast, and cold, but the stresses of just the past 5 hours had left his body radiating with fiery aches and pains, so the chill of the occasional clawing breeze was welcomed. Except for when said breeze agitated the cold water still soaked into his sock. He should step in another puddle on his way back to even it out. The smell of rain still rested heavy in the air, heralding another storm on the horizon. There was that, and then, well, there was also the blood. The stench of it felt far too intense to just ignore it, the metallic miasma making itself maliciously unmistakable. Maybe the impending storm will wash this mess away... He looked forward to putting this unfortunate night behind him. With one last rattled, but deep breath, he stuffs his hands in his pockets, and turns away, strolling back over to the mailbox that Emizel had described.

He couldn't wait to get home and drink some soda with his friends.

[thankstothe]

guess ill die

[yardsards]

Are you doing trick or treat?

If so trick or treat!

well i wasn't planning on it but here's a fruit barrel for your troubles

[arundolyn]

ohhhh my fucking god nobody needs to like know any of this medical tmi but it is literally 11 pm and if im kept up one minute longer when i just laid down trying to go to sleep by my mother YELLING REPEATEDLY that she needs to pee. im going to actually go insane. she got a catheter in. Yesterday. it is working. she won't listen to anyone when they tell her that this is the case. help me jesus. im sure if a nurse comes to check on her tomorrow they'll probably get the same response. my brain will simply explode

[throwawayasoiafaccount]

Op… you make a lot of interesting claims in this post. To get the facts straight before I go on a rant… 1) George claims that Rhaegar was a love struck prince 2) the books don’t mention anything about any marriages being annulled/anyone being set aside 3) seems like Dorne has no issue with Rhaegar and 4) Ned literally never thinks anything bad about Rhaegar… but thinks ill of Robert.

First off, a man trapped in a duty bound marriage and finding love outside that marriage is completely different from a whoremonger shouting about his love while visiting brothels whenever he could. And guess what… Ned straight up thinks that Rhaegar didn’t seem like someone who’d visit brothels. Robert and Rhaegar couldn’t be any more different.

And when did Lyanna want to be wild and free? When is it ever said that Rhaegar locked her in the tower of joy and that Lyanna was a prisoner?

Ned never even alludes to there being any truth in any of these claims. What we do know is that Lyanna greatly resembles Arya in looks and personality… and Arya wants to be a high septon and kings counselor, meaning Arya wants to have a position of power and not be reduced to a baby making machine. Going off of that… it seems like Lyanna didn’t want to be “wild and free,” she just wanted to be treated with respect. The only reason Arya is even treated like she’s wild is because she doesn’t conform to the Westerosi standards for highborn women.

And of course she’d feel miserable when she heard Aerys killed her brother and father. Aerys. Not Rhaegar. I wouldn’t even be surprised if she felt guilt about what happened, but in the end it was Aerys who brutally killed them. And then Rhaegar goes to protect his family and dies, and then Rhaegar’s family is brutally killed and then Lyanna dies. George did claim that the greatest love stories are the tragedies (i may be misremembering but i know he said something along the lines of that lmao).

Op, you claim that Rhaelyas love would’ve died after getting news of the Starks deaths, and then you try to suggest that Rhaegar may have been keeping Lyanna isolated from news in Dorne… like please pick a story to go with! And Rhaelyas love dying or Lyanna not being kept updated on what was going on outside of Dorne just doesn’t seem to be true. When reading Neds chapters, it seems like Lyanna was fully aware of what happened to Rhaegar’s children and Elia… as Lyanna pleaded with Ned like how Sansa pleaded with Ned to not kill Lady (hope i’m not misremembering here lol). And Rhaegar dying with a woman’s name on his lips (likely Lyanna’s name) and Lyanna clutching a winter rose (this may just be symbolism for baby Jon tbh) until she passed away seems to contradict your belief that their love died.

Also, where are you getting the “Rhaegar would suggest to set aside his kids and wife to marry Lyanna” from? The show? You mention how Lyanna would not be okay with this, and I agree that Lyanna would never be fine with setting Elia and Elia’s children aside. But even thinking that Rhaegar would ever even suggest setting aside Elia and his children is bonkers. Like seriously… there was so much tension between Aerys and Rhaegar that the Royal court was said to have begun looking like the situation before the Dance of the Dragons. And Dorne was Rhaegar’s greatest support! Why would it make any sense for him to annul his marriage with Elia? And please remember that during the sack Rhaenys hid under her fathers bed. The text supports him loving his kids/his child who wasn’t a baby seeking to be protected by him so why would he endanger them and their positions? (and no, disappearing with Lyanna for awhile isn’t him endangering his family. Aerys was the one who endangered his family (hot take brandon was the one who endangered the starks like wth was he thinking???). and tbh it seems like Aerys knew exactly where to find Rhaegar so did Rhaegar and Lyanna even disappear? or were they just keeping their location a secret from the rebels? the rebels who ended up killing Rhaegar’s family?)

I will say that how op first started to characterize Lyanna is something I agree with, her being principled, noble, honorable, and just with a sensitive side seems to be true, but then op goes on to continue to claim that Lyanna was wild and that she had little regard as to how other people perceived her. There’s no reason for us to believe that she didn’t care about what others thought of her or that she was wild and wanted freedom more than anything, it just seems like she dared to tread away from what was expected of Westerosi highborn women and that she didn’t want to be married to Robert. And guess what… Robert ended up being an abuser! *gasp* Lyanna dear… you clocked Robert right away.

And seriously… how does any of what op mentioned back up their claim that Lyanna would never resign herself to the position of a mistress? Is being a mistress/paramour really that bad? Does it truly seem like Lyanna would look down on those women? Her mini me Arya doesn’t look down on the courtesans of Braavos who occupy a similar position as mistresses in society. And it seems like plenty of noblewomen have been mistresses in the past and they are still as respected as a woman can be in Westerosi society. Missy Blackwood and Elaena Targaryen are right there. And Op, if Lyanna was Rhaegar’s mistress, why would you think that Lyanna couldn’t have been happy? Are we going to doubt Ellarias happiness and her love of Oberyn because they weren’t married? Should I doubt Rhaenyra and Harwins happiness because Rhaenyra was married to Laenor? Rhaegar and Elias marriage was not a love match. And if Rhaegar and Lyanna did marry… ever wonder if polygamy was introduced as a Valyrian practice by George to hint at Rhaegar taking a second wife? Should I now doubt Rhaenys and Aegons happiness and love because Rhaenys was Aegons second wife?

Now can we please stop acting like two people married due to duty have any reason to love each other? Nedcat seems to be an exception in Westeros. Lyanna and Rhaegar falling in love isn’t ruining Elia and Rhaegar’s marriage when love wasn’t there in the first place.

haha my whole post is a bit messy i just wanted to get my thoughts out :)

fuckkkk i want to tag more (my tags are a mess lmao no i’ve not gone through them and no they will not make any sense)

[chipjrwibignaturals]

the issue is im trying to reduce how much weed i consume both dosage wise and rate of consumption wise but unfortunately my life is severely painfully boring so every afternoon im like "damn this sucks :/// know what could fix this tho? 🙏"

[hella1975]

me: yeah i didn't project too badly onto taob haha *sees a quote from taob randomly on a tiktok webweave about girlhood*

[trans-leek-cookie]

ur comment on that post abt dunmeshi mischaracterization is so real. the white ppl have got to go i have seen the most egregious takes on certain characters particularly the ones who are clearly not white and its like hmmm i wonder why these white ppl r so quick to demonize the characters that arent white 🤔

TRULY. It's so scary out here. Can anyone hear me

[eclaire-went-bam]

morals are so confusing sometimes. it's not like i'm trying to do anything malicious, it just doesn't occur to me that most people see these things as bad — to me, some things are just kind of a means to an end and if nobody gets genuinely hurt idrc ??

if i let someone borrow something and they're not giving it back, i don't really see anything wrong with telling a lie about the importance of that item to guilt trip someone into giving it back (eg, so & so gave this to me before they died & it's rlly important to me so i really would appreciate it if i got this back soon ...). not because i want to go outta my way to make someone feel bad, but that's just how i view the world. they are probably maliciously keeping my stuff, so just talking to them wouldn't be enough. so why shouldn't i?

i don't see an issue in hacking into my parents email so i can get the verification code for a family streaming service, it takes me a really long time for it to click that actually People Don't Like Someone Going Thru Their Private Stuff even though i'm not trying to find anything but the verification email

type of things that i don't really realise could genuinely upset someone until i think about it a lot and ask someone for their opinion. i could realistically just ask and communicate better, but i often fall into the pit on never relying on anybody to do something when i put a task in their hands. that will only end up hurting or disappointing me.

oftentimes in trying to watch my own back and keep myself safe from nonexistent problems, i somehow create them

[red-eft]

i think the haircut i got might've turned me into a boy