#does he have the power to control everyone

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Bossware is unfair (in the legal sense, too)

You can get into a lot of trouble by assuming that rich people know what they're doing. For example, might assume that ad-tech works – bypassing peoples' critical faculties, reaching inside their minds and brainwashing them with Big Data insights, because if that's not what's happening, then why would rich people pour billions into those ads?

https://pluralistic.net/2020/12/06/surveillance-tulip-bulbs/#adtech-bubble

You might assume that private equity looters make their investors rich, because otherwise, why would rich people hand over trillions for them to play with?

https://thenextrecession.wordpress.com/2024/11/19/private-equity-vampire-capital/

The truth is, rich people are suckers like the rest of us. If anything, succeeding once or twice makes you an even bigger mark, with a sense of your own infallibility that inflates to fill the bubble your yes-men seal you inside of.

Rich people fall for scams just like you and me. Anyone can be a mark. I was:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/05/cyber-dunning-kruger/#swiss-cheese-security

But though rich people can fall for scams the same way you and I do, the way those scams play out is very different when the marks are wealthy. As Keynes had it, "The market can remain irrational longer than you can remain solvent." When the marks are rich (or worse, super-rich), they can be played for much longer before they go bust, creating the appearance of solidity.

Noted Keynesian John Kenneth Galbraith had his own thoughts on this. Galbraith coined the term "bezzle" to describe "the magic interval when a confidence trickster knows he has the money he has appropriated but the victim does not yet understand that he has lost it." In that magic interval, everyone feels better off: the mark thinks he's up, and the con artist knows he's up.

Rich marks have looong bezzles. Empirically incorrect ideas grounded in the most outrageous superstition and junk science can take over whole sections of your life, simply because a rich person – or rich people – are convinced that they're good for you.

Take "scientific management." In the early 20th century, the con artist Frederick Taylor convinced rich industrialists that he could increase their workers' productivity through a kind of caliper-and-stopwatch driven choreographry:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/21/great-taylors-ghost/#solidarity-or-bust

Taylor and his army of labcoated sadists perched at the elbows of factory workers (whom Taylor referred to as "stupid," "mentally sluggish," and as "an ox") and scripted their motions to a fare-the-well, transforming their work into a kind of kabuki of obedience. They weren't more efficient, but they looked smart, like obedient robots, and this made their bosses happy. The bosses shelled out fortunes for Taylor's services, even though the workers who followed his prescriptions were less efficient and generated fewer profits. Bosses were so dazzled by the spectacle of a factory floor of crisply moving people interfacing with crisply working machines that they failed to understand that they were losing money on the whole business.

To the extent they noticed that their revenues were declining after implementing Taylorism, they assumed that this was because they needed more scientific management. Taylor had a sweet con: the worse his advice performed, the more reasons their were to pay him for more advice.

Taylorism is a perfect con to run on the wealthy and powerful. It feeds into their prejudice and mistrust of their workers, and into their misplaced confidence in their own ability to understand their workers' jobs better than their workers do. There's always a long dollar to be made playing the "scientific management" con.

Today, there's an app for that. "Bossware" is a class of technology that monitors and disciplines workers, and it was supercharged by the pandemic and the rise of work-from-home. Combine bossware with work-from-home and your boss gets to control your life even when in your own place – "work from home" becomes "live at work":

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/24/gwb-rumsfeld-monsters/#bossware

Gig workers are at the white-hot center of bossware. Gig work promises "be your own boss," but bossware puts a Taylorist caliper wielder into your phone, monitoring and disciplining you as you drive your wn car around delivering parcels or picking up passengers.

In automation terms, a worker hitched to an app this way is a "reverse centaur." Automation theorists call a human augmented by a machine a "centaur" – a human head supported by a machine's tireless and strong body. A "reverse centaur" is a machine augmented by a human – like the Amazon delivery driver whose app goads them to make inhuman delivery quotas while punishing them for looking in the "wrong" direction or even singing along with the radio:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/08/02/despotism-on-demand/#virtual-whips

Bossware pre-dates the current AI bubble, but AI mania has supercharged it. AI pumpers insist that AI can do things it positively cannot do – rolling out an "autonomous robot" that turns out to be a guy in a robot suit, say – and rich people are groomed to buy the services of "AI-powered" bossware:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/29/pay-no-attention/#to-the-little-man-behind-the-curtain

For an AI scammer like Elon Musk or Sam Altman, the fact that an AI can't do your job is irrelevant. From a business perspective, the only thing that matters is whether a salesperson can convince your boss that an AI can do your job – whether or not that's true:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/25/accountability-sinks/#work-harder-not-smarter

The fact that AI can't do your job, but that your boss can be convinced to fire you and replace you with the AI that can't do your job, is the central fact of the 21st century labor market. AI has created a world of "algorithmic management" where humans are demoted to reverse centaurs, monitored and bossed about by an app.

The techbro's overwhelming conceit is that nothing is a crime, so long as you do it with an app. Just as fintech is designed to be a bank that's exempt from banking regulations, the gig economy is meant to be a workplace that's exempt from labor law. But this wheeze is transparent, and easily pierced by enforcers, so long as those enforcers want to do their jobs. One such enforcer is Alvaro Bedoya, an FTC commissioner with a keen interest in antitrust's relationship to labor protection.

Bedoya understands that antitrust has a checkered history when it comes to labor. As he's written, the history of antitrust is a series of incidents in which Congress revised the law to make it clear that forming a union was not the same thing as forming a cartel, only to be ignored by boss-friendly judges:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/14/aiming-at-dollars/#not-men

Bedoya is no mere historian. He's an FTC Commissioner, one of the most powerful regulators in the world, and he's profoundly interested in using that power to help workers, especially gig workers, whose misery starts with systemic, wide-scale misclassification as contractors:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/02/upward-redistribution/

In a new speech to NYU's Wagner School of Public Service, Bedoya argues that the FTC's existing authority allows it to crack down on algorithmic management – that is, algorithmic management is illegal, even if you break the law with an app:

https://www.ftc.gov/system/files/ftc_gov/pdf/bedoya-remarks-unfairness-in-workplace-surveillance-and-automated-management.pdf

Bedoya starts with a delightful analogy to The Hawtch-Hawtch, a mythical town from a Dr Seuss poem. The Hawtch-Hawtch economy is based on beekeeping, and the Hawtchers develop an overwhelming obsession with their bee's laziness, and determine to wring more work (and more honey) out of him. So they appoint a "bee-watcher." But the bee doesn't produce any more honey, which leads the Hawtchers to suspect their bee-watcher might be sleeping on the job, so they hire a bee-watcher-watcher. When that doesn't work, they hire a bee-watcher-watcher-watcher, and so on and on.

For gig workers, it's bee-watchers all the way down. Call center workers are subjected to "AI" video monitoring, and "AI" voice monitoring that purports to measure their empathy. Another AI times their calls. Two more AIs analyze the "sentiment" of the calls and the success of workers in meeting arbitrary metrics. On average, a call-center worker is subjected to five forms of bossware, which stand at their shoulders, marking them down and brooking no debate.

For example, when an experienced call center operator fielded a call from a customer with a flooded house who wanted to know why no one from her boss's repair plan system had come out to address the flooding, the operator was punished by the AI for failing to try to sell the customer a repair plan. There was no way for the operator to protest that the customer had a repair plan already, and had called to complain about it.

Workers report being sickened by this kind of surveillance, literally – stressed to the point of nausea and insomnia. Ironically, one of the most pervasive sources of automation-driven sickness are the "AI wellness" apps that bosses are sold by AI hucksters:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/15/wellness-taylorism/#sick-of-spying

The FTC has broad authority to block "unfair trade practices," and Bedoya builds the case that this is an unfair trade practice. Proving an unfair trade practice is a three-part test: a practice is unfair if it causes "substantial injury," can't be "reasonably avoided," and isn't outweighed by a "countervailing benefit." In his speech, Bedoya makes the case that algorithmic management satisfies all three steps and is thus illegal.

On the question of "substantial injury," Bedoya describes the workday of warehouse workers working for ecommerce sites. He describes one worker who is monitored by an AI that requires him to pick and drop an object off a moving belt every 10 seconds, for ten hours per day. The worker's performance is tracked by a leaderboard, and supervisors punish and scold workers who don't make quota, and the algorithm auto-fires if you fail to meet it.

Under those conditions, it was only a matter of time until the worker experienced injuries to two of his discs and was permanently disabled, with the company being found 100% responsible for this injury. OSHA found a "direct connection" between the algorithm and the injury. No wonder warehouses sport vending machines that sell painkillers rather than sodas. It's clear that algorithmic management leads to "substantial injury."

What about "reasonably avoidable?" Can workers avoid the harms of algorithmic management? Bedoya describes the experience of NYC rideshare drivers who attended a round-table with him. The drivers describe logging tens of thousands of successful rides for the apps they work for, on promise of "being their own boss." But then the apps start randomly suspending them, telling them they aren't eligible to book a ride for hours at a time, sending them across town to serve an underserved area and still suspending them. Drivers who stop for coffee or a pee are locked out of the apps for hours as punishment, and so drive 12-hour shifts without a single break, in hopes of pleasing the inscrutable, high-handed app.

All this, as drivers' pay is falling and their credit card debts are mounting. No one will explain to drivers how their pay is determined, though the legal scholar Veena Dubal's work on "algorithmic wage discrimination" reveals that rideshare apps temporarily increase the pay of drivers who refuse rides, only to lower it again once they're back behind the wheel:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

This is like the pit boss who gives a losing gambler some freebies to lure them back to the table, over and over, until they're broke. No wonder they call this a "casino mechanic." There's only two major rideshare apps, and they both use the same high-handed tactics. For Bedoya, this satisfies the second test for an "unfair practice" – it can't be reasonably avoided. If you drive rideshare, you're trapped by the harmful conduct.

The final prong of the "unfair practice" test is whether the conduct has "countervailing value" that makes up for this harm.

To address this, Bedoya goes back to the call center, where operators' performance is assessed by "Speech Emotion Recognition" algorithms, a psuedoscientific hoax that purports to be able to determine your emotions from your voice. These SERs don't work – for example, they might interpret a customer's laughter as anger. But they fail differently for different kinds of workers: workers with accents – from the American south, or the Philippines – attract more disapprobation from the AI. Half of all call center workers are monitored by SERs, and a quarter of workers have SERs scoring them "constantly."

Bossware AIs also produce transcripts of these workers' calls, but workers with accents find them "riddled with errors." These are consequential errors, since their bosses assess their performance based on the transcripts, and yet another AI produces automated work scores based on them.

In other words, algorithmic management is a procession of bee-watchers, bee-watcher-watchers, and bee-watcher-watcher-watchers, stretching to infinity. It's junk science. It's not producing better call center workers. It's producing arbitrary punishments, often against the best workers in the call center.

There is no "countervailing benefit" to offset the unavoidable substantial injury of life under algorithmic management. In other words, algorithmic management fails all three prongs of the "unfair practice" test, and it's illegal.

What should we do about it? Bedoya builds the case for the FTC acting on workers' behalf under its "unfair practice" authority, but he also points out that the lack of worker privacy is at the root of this hellscape of algorithmic management.

He's right. The last major update Congress made to US privacy law was in 1988, when they banned video-store clerks from telling the newspapers which VHS cassettes you rented. The US is long overdue for a new privacy regime, and workers under algorithmic management are part of a broad coalition that's closer than ever to making that happen:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/06/privacy-first/#but-not-just-privacy

Workers should have the right to know which of their data is being collected, who it's being shared by, and how it's being used. We all should have that right. That's what the actors' strike was partly motivated by: actors who were being ordered to wear mocap suits to produce data that could be used to produce a digital double of them, "training their replacement," but the replacement was a deepfake.

With a Trump administration on the horizon, the future of the FTC is in doubt. But the coalition for a new privacy law includes many of Trumpland's most powerful blocs – like Jan 6 rioters whose location was swept up by Google and handed over to the FBI. A strong privacy law would protect their Fourth Amendment rights – but also the rights of BLM protesters who experienced this far more often, and with far worse consequences, than the insurrectionists.

The "we do it with an app, so it's not illegal" ruse is wearing thinner by the day. When you have a boss for an app, your real boss gets an accountability sink, a convenient scapegoat that can be blamed for your misery.

The fact that this makes you worse at your job, that it loses your boss money, is no guarantee that you will be spared. Rich people make great marks, and they can remain irrational longer than you can remain solvent. Markets won't solve this one – but worker power can.

Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg

CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en

[meanbossart]

So, I was thinking after the newest Bhaalist DU Drow art (and his hand dangerously close to Astarions throat): what would happen if Astarion runs away? Did he ever try?

And, what's also pretty sad, how does affection look like for them in this AU? Does Astarion just push through and dissociate? Can he ever say no? Or does he hope the love of his life (or unlife) changes at some point?

Thankies 💕

CW: Non-explicit description of a coercive sexual relationship.

You know, I'm not sure he would try to run away. I haven't thought about this AU in quite as much depth as I have their canonical story, but I do know that DU drow has turned Baldur's Gate and the area around it into quite the scary place. The "immediate and absolute control over the brain" outcome that we get in the game is a bit too easy for me, but he DOES retain the stones and therefore ownership over it, not to mention a huge bargaining chip in political control of the vicinity.

The church of Bhaal is reinstated, and while it will never be in the interest of Bhaalists to be blatant about their activities, it would become common knowledge that they have eyes everywhere. Killing is still ritualistic rather than mindless massacre, and indoctrination is prioritized - they can't expand and fulfill Bhaal's will if all potential followers are dead. People who don't yet follow the gospel have reason to cooperate with them since that lessens their chances of being killed.

So, if the darling of the cult's head were to suddenly disappear, everyone infected would be immediately zapped with the knowledge of exactly what he looks like and where he was last seen, and what the repercussions are for anyone who fails to report his whereabouts. Astarion knows this, DU drow would make sure that he does.

Also, it would probably be far too easy for Astarion to justify his own compliance and try to make peace with the situation. This IS the man he fell in love with, he DID encourage his pursuit for power at every step, he may not be the grand vampire ascendant, but he is the Murder Prince's beloved. He doesn't beat him, he doesn't torture him, he spoils Astarion with riches, comfort, and all the fresh blood he could dream of; all he asks for in return is his eternal devotion, constant affection, adoration, control over where he is, wears, does, and total surveillance.

When the alternative is braving the cold, ruthless world as a meager little vampire spawn while being hunted down by your ex's minions (hm, sounds familiar) being the equivalent to your partner's boutique pet starts to look pretty desirable. Astarion falling to old habits and resigning to his circumstance seems pretty likely to me. If he did run away successfully, life would be a whole lot harder for him. If he runs away unsuccessfully, he loses the trust of his murderous, power-hungry partner and the few liberties he is afforded at all.

Speaking of liberties, saying no to intimacy is one he still has, however the consequences for being frigid and nonreciprocating would come in other forms, over time, and Astarion would probably rather spare himself the trouble and just play along as the highly affectionate and fiery lover that this DU Drow wants him to be. The happier he is, the easier things are.

Not to mention that, occasionally, he can pretend that everything is back to how it used to be when they are being intimate.

I think there are vulnerable moments where he hopes he will snap out of it, but most of the time Astarion is convincing himself that he hit the jackpot, that he has DU drow wrapped around his finger and he will be able to turn this more in his favor eventually.

[thebaldursmouthgazette]

Solavellan sounds like a horror movie to me to be honest. Especially if Lavellan agrees to having her vallaslin removed

Like this young woman in a relationship with a man who continuously belittles her culture at every opportunity, expresses distaste every time she acts like she’s proud of it, encourages her to distance herself from her peoples culture and then tells her that one of the most important cultural rituals her people have is actually a really horrible thing that used to mark you as someone else’s property and encourages her to let him remove it.

And then when he’s removed it, removed the thing that signifies her kinship with her people, removes the thing that is a mark of adulthood within her people, he breaks up with her. So now she has been distanced from her culture, and had the markings on her face that signified her place in that culture removed. She would struggle to return and be taken seriously, even if her clan is nice about it they would certainly find it odd. And she doesn’t even have the relationship she did it for

Or alternatively, when she refuses to change this thing about herself, refuses to let this man who has repeatedly belittled her culture cross that line, he breaks up with her. And she’s left feeling like sticking to her culture, who this man has repeatedly belittled at every opportunity, has caused this breakup.

And then instead of being allowed to get over him, she continues to pine. First for three years, at which point she discovers that this man has lied to her about everything, is several thousand years old, is one of the GODS from her pantheon (holy mother of power imbalances), and not only did he not consider her a real person who’s life had value and meaning for the entirety of their relationship but the reason he broke up with her was because that realisation made him feel bad about his plans to kill most people in the world. And instead of like. Changing those plans. He chose to ignore that knowledge and kill everyone anyway

And then TEN years later, never having spoken to him again, not being allowed to move on, most likely not being allowed to reconnect with her family and culture because she’s been distanced from it by a man who lied to her and abandoned her to kill everyone, most likely facing ridicule for being in a relationship with the man who’s trying to destroy the world, she abandons her home and her duty and traps herself in the fade with him for eternity.

That’s not romantic. Take away the magic and the elfiness of the situation, if you heard about that happening to someone you’d consider it emotional abuse and manipulation. It makes me super uncomfortable to even think about.

Why has she not been allowed to move on? Why has she not been allowed to recover from this betrayal? From this man who belittled and controlled her? Why is it that 13 years later, having not even spoken to him for a decade, she is throwing herself into the fade with him for eternity? Where are her family? Where are her friends? What is her life outside of Solas? Does she have one? Is she allowed to have one? Why is nobody able to save her?

[forthegothicheroine]

I don't know if you do requests for the Great Detectives, but I'd love to see how you think the Great Detectives would handle the murder of King Hamlet of Denmark.

This is a GREAT one! The big question is whether they all talk to the ghost of the dead king; I think I'm going to have to take that on a case-by-case basis, with whatever feels right for any specific detective.

So, in a series I do sometimes, how would various great detectives solve the murder of King Hamlet...

Sherlock Holmes: Well, obviously ghosts don't exist, so jot that down. But in Holmes's experience, living humans often pretend to be ghosts (or even make dogs pretend to be ghosts!) so who could this be? The young prince Hamlet, who everybody says has gone mad? Holmes deduces that he isn't mad at all, and is in fact conducting psychological warfare against his hated uncle; while Holmes disapproves, he concludes that the boy is completely right about Claudius due to his knowledge of the play The Murder of Gonzago, as seen when he's upset about changes in a production. The Murder of Gonzago is a play which premiered in a town in Denmark known for its manufacturing of poisons for pest control!

Hercule Poirot: Poirot is quite sad to hear that the monarch who invited him as a celebrity guest has died; why does this always have to happen when he goes on vacation? Polonius spies on the guy to see what he's up to, but Poirot is much better at snooping on people than he is, and nobody can keep anything hidden for very long. He gives a summation where he reveals Claudius killed his brother. Prince Hamlet immediately goes to attack his uncle and they struggle over a sword. King Claudius falls dead and Poirot bows out, because determining whether Hamlet should suffer consequences or just become king is not his department.

Sam and Peter: Hear me out- if we bump Hamlet down from ambiguously college-aged to ambiguously high school aged, we can replace Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. These two nerdy kids are shipped in to cheer their friend (more like acquaintance) Hamlet up, and to his surprise, they respond to his depressing monologues by taking notes and asking for further details on why the world is so corrupt. Hamlet isn't so happy about them doing an investigation into "What is up with Hamlet's super hot mom?" but when they suggest interviewing Claudius to see if he has the face of a liar, he enlists them to help out with putting on The Murder of Gonzago. The rest of the play mostly goes the same, but they find the letter Claudius planted on them and show it to Hamlet. One of the last lines of the play is when Fortinbras is looking at everyone lying dead, but then Osric points out "Sam and Peter are alive!"

Phryne Fisher: Phryne is a dubious (if genteel) woman Laertes has taken up with, whom Polonius is doing everything in his power to drive away. Phryne doesn't care, but it does bring her attention to the fact that the man is apparently constantly spying on everyone in the castle. On whose behalf is he doing this? King Claudius? Is he afraid someone may assassinate him because of his brother's suspicious death? What was the official story about that, anyway? She exchanges sexy insults with Prince Hamlet, refusing to be cowed, and ultimately agrees to play the queen in his production of The Murder of Gonzago (where she gets a little too into the love scene.) When she turns and looks directly in Claudius's eye in the audience during a crucial line, she can see the answer to everything. Claudius tries to convince Laertes to kill her, saying she corrupted Ophelia into being a whore for a mad prince, but Laertes can't go through with it and kills Claudius instead.

Dale Cooper: King Hamlet's ghost tells him who killed him in a dream, but Cooper doesn't remember. He befriends Horatio and tells him that in order to understand the death of the king, it is crucial for them to study an old Icelanic poem about a man who feigns madness, because the answer to the mystery lies somewhere within. Horatio doesn't totally get it, but he figures Cooper must know what he's doing and goes along with it. When everyone is gathered to watch a production of The Murder of Gonzago, Cooper first steps up onto the stage, guided by a spirit in the form of a snake wearing a crown, to announce that King Claudius killed his brother. Prince Hamlet immediately stabs his uncle. Determining whether Hamlet should suffer consequences or just become king is not Cooper's department.

Philip Marlowe: All I know is, most of this mystery involves him getting thrown off the palace grounds repeatedly and being told that a bum like him better keep away from King Claudius if he knows what's good for him. If he ever gets out of Denmark alive, Marlowe thinks to himself, he's never leaving LA during the winter ever again.

Sam Vimes: Vimes can actually interview the ghost, but that doesn't mean the case is closed. He's not worried about the ghost actually being a deceitful fiend, he just thinks there's a possibility he's wrong. After all, if Vimes was poisoned and his ghost found out some creepy relative immediately married his wife and took his job, he would also jump to conclusions! He spends a lot of time yelling at royal people and getting threatened with execution (Vimes doesn't know how his job ended up involving so many clashes with royalty, but so it goes), and is disrespectful of religion enough to spy on Claudius while he's having his remorseful confession. He can't arrest him, but he spreads the word around, and as the royal court dissolves into backstabbing and finger-pointing, Vetinari walks in with a full retinue (and more importantly, a list of all the debts Denmark owes to Ankh-Morpork) to evaluate the situation and congratulate Claudius on his "excellent decision" to abdicate. Claudius later dies of a totally natural snake bite in his ear.

Columbo:

Your Majesty, King Claudius, forgive My clumsy common nature. I am not A noble gentleman, nor do I live With such great honor as yourself- a thought, However, troubles me this night. For how Should some strange serpent come to bite a king? And why within his ear? It puzzles! Now, I beg that I may ask just one more thing…

[azen13]

[Not really sure if this counts as a request but here we go] Who’s your favourite male yandere(s) from genshin? And could you talk about why?

Ah I love this question! Thank you so much for asking. I've been really busy with college lately so I haven't gotten a chance to write recently, but after this week I should be finished with a lot of tests until finals. Just to clear things up, I absolutely accept questions like this! I feel like I haven't really shared a lot about myself as a person so I'm hoping to do more of that in the future.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

CW: Yandere Themes, Spoilers for Wriothesley's Story Quest

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

I'd say I have four yanderes who I really like, and then a few who I like but I'm not obsessed with. Those four being Alhaitham, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, and Zhongli. Beyond the fact that I just like them as characters (and I'm gay asf lol) they're the most interesting yanderes to me, in part because of how much power they have in their societies.

Alhaitham is really interesting to me because there's this personal conflict between his values and beliefs and the idea of falling in an obsessive love. Alhaitham is inherently self-centered, not narcissistically so, but to the point where he prioritizes and values his time alone. In doing so though, he's also extremely lonely. I think a lot on how Alhaitham would react to someone who's able to match his sharpened blade of wit with one of their own, how he might exchange parries and blows with that person and find himself needing to understand the nature of their mind. I also think about how he'd react to someone who struggles with taking care of themself, or overworking: how he'd try to get you to stop doing so much and trying to please everyone. If his lover can keep up with his intelligence, he treats the romance like a game of chess, lining up his pieces to topple over the defenses surrounding your heart. His possession of you is slow and methodical, like vines growing on walls, slowly creeping over every inch. If his lover's wisdom is spent in other areas, then he's quick to snatch them up and take them home. While I think he's quick to get you under his control, it's harder for him to make them fall in love and surrender to his calculating embrace.

Neuvillette brings a really interesting element that I like to think about when I'm writing for him: immortality. He's a dragon who's lived for centuries, and that element of the slow passage of time is really fun to both write and think about. I really like to think of Neuvillette as a really, really soft yandere; he's seen humanity at its worst, and doesn't want you, the beautiful thing you are, to be tainted by all of its ugliness. Besides, he just can't help himself, what with his draconic instincts.

Out of the four, Wriothesley is the character I'd say I have the hardest time writing for because it's harder for me to explain why he feels the way he does. The working justification I have is that being betrayed by his adoptive family and living his whole life in Meropide made him incredibly lonely and developed a lot of abandonment issues that remained unearthed for years, as he didn't really make many close friends in Meropide. Then you come along though, and for once, Wriothesley has something good, something he doesn't want to give up. He's definitely one of the hardest yanderes to escape, what with Meropide being a literal prison. I think he definitely takes extra precautions when it comes to you, though, because he's so scared of losing them. Beneath his gruff exterior, there's a heart of gold, a man who only craves your complete affection and attention.

And then there's Zhongli, who was actually the character who got me into writing Yanderes. The thing about Zhongli is that as a yandere, you're practically powerless, unless you're on a similar or higher level of power/divinity to him. Even if you exceed his power, you're still going to have a very difficult time escaping his control. With how long he's lived and how much he's seen, he knows the only way to guarantee your safety is to isolate you from Teyvat entirely. Zhongli has no qualms about doing this, regardless of how much you might protest. Because when you've lost everything but Zhongli, you'll eventually—and inevitably—crumble into his arms. Only then will Zhongli put you back together, shaping you to be his perfect lover. Zhongli's greatest power as a yandere is his patience.

[magnuspanoptes]

readings of the podcast which try to frame jon as having been tragically manipulated and forced through every decision by elias are of no interest to me. because it's not true, is it. when elias tells him in mag 92 "you always chose to see," he's being cruel, yes. victim blaming him, even. but to completely disregard it as an attempt at manipulation would be a mistake. much of the podcast is about exploiting people's trauma. as i've said before, jon's role as head archivist, back when it was still presented as a mundane office job to the audiences, and he hadn't developed any beholding powers yet, involved filing away statement givers' trauma without offering help of any kind. the institute subsists on this form of exploitation, in a literal sense obviously, because it's a temple to the eye. but even if you take that reveal away, it's also true in simply an administrative sense in season one. and jon used to ruthlessly dismiss every single statement giver with as much apathy as he could muster (while knowing that if a statement doesn't record digitally, then it's the truth), and note that faking skepticism was a form of coping mechanism for him, it was the choice between making statement givers feel small or making himself feel vulnerable—and is this not simply the bureaucratic version of what he does later as a supernatural avatar of the beholding, vampirically feeding on people's terror to stay alive or risk being consumed by the eye?

(Season 3) MAG 117 - "Testament" // (Season 4) MAG 142 - "Scrutiny"

of course, i'm not saying he bought it on himself, that he deserved to be put in an impossible situation later for being an arse in season one. jon too, has had his trauma exploited in the form of a guest for mr spider, an experience which eventually led him to the magnus institute where he would help fulfill the web's designs. so, in the grand scheme of things everyone was puppeteered by forces beyond their control, but would you excuse jonah for eveything he's ever done because of it? then why must jon be rendered completely non-agentic? yes, elias manipulated him, but he has never had to straight up coerce jon into anything. jon's just always done what's been expected of him. because they're alike. their shared desire for knowledge originates from fear. jon always chose to see because something had hurt him once and he needed answers, and we can assume jonah chose the beholding because it was the only entity which would expose him to information on all the other fears. knowledge is a means of survival for both of them, an inclination which later manifests literally as they become avatars who must subsist on terror. it all really comes down to letting yourself be exploited or exploiting someone else to escape that fate (you don't escape, not really, nobody does in the podcast), and jon did choose (with as much agency he could've possibly had in a story like this). the difference between them being that elias feels no remorse for his choice, but jon's character is defined by the enormous guilt he feels about the things he has done and what he must do to continue living, until he doesn't.

[eugenedebs1920]

You know!? It ticks me off this perception that Donald Trump, J.D. (Jerkin Dicks)Vance, even Musk, is somehow manly. I mean, Trump and Ol Jerkin D wear more makeup than my wife! You can’t say that’s all just for television. Musk looks like if Smeagal had only kept the ring for 250 years as opposed to 500. His Prrreeeccciooouussss. None of those guys project masculinity. It’s the varsity cricket team and their weird gangly friend.

Does anyone remember when Trump tried to act like he knew how to use a shovel 🤣🤣🤣 That sh*t cracked me up!! Like ‘MFer, where have you seen someone attempt to shovel like that!?’

Then J. Dick Vance projects uncertainty in his sexual identity. It cool if your gay, but don’t fight being gay so much that you are viscous to women and marginalize those who’ve figured out who they are and are not overcompensating for it. it’s coo Jerkin D! We’ll still hate you either way.

I’m pretty sure Musk is a supervillain. But like if Dollar General had a comic book action figure series.. He’d be the main villain in that. Corneal Creepy McBillions, somethin like that.

These guys definitely got picked on in grade school and vowed to get revenge by making everyone else miserable. Thanks bullies! 😑

Speaking of. If you haven’t constantly put people down, talk sh*t on people, (I realize the irony as I’m sh*t talking these f*cks but, physically I don’t think any of them could take me, but power wise, what they could have done to me!! They’d ruin my world..) pinpoint and pick on a vulnerable individual or group, pretty much, if you get hard by making people laugh at or join in on teasing or bullying someone, that itself reeks of insecurity. It shows the flaws in yourself, you’re hiding by putting those flaws onto others before someone sees them in you. Trump is the master of that! If he accuses someone of something, he’s definitely guilty of it.

It doesn’t make you any less of a man to be kind. It’s isn’t a feminine to treat women with respect. It doesn’t make you macho to be a prick. Being racist and ostracizing immigrants doesn’t protrude masculine traits.

You know what women find sexy. Confidence. Knowing who you are, what your values are, compassion, knowing the difference between proper and improper, and sticking to those principles regardless what others would say or entice you to do. Being a good person, because that the good thing to do, proud of oneself, but knowing there’s always room to grow and learn.

I certainly don’t see what’s would constitute being attractive when you are borderline in a cult, infatuate with a 80 year old politician who bankrupted casinos, been accused by 23 women and adjudicated for sexual assault, shameless grifter, hateful, cruel, racist, bully f*ck. It’s just, sorry to say it, weird.

I have a heart and care for people, I build houses for a living. I believe in equality and the rights for EVERYONE, I can rebuild an engine. I think women are people (who knew!?) and should be in control of their own destiny, I am pro 2nd amendment and love to go shooting.

I’ve been in bar brawls, climbed mountains, go hunting, chop wood, ride atv’s, snowboard, go 4wheelin, camping, have a big beard, drink beer, and I think everyone is entitled to dignity, despite their sexual preference, race, religion, gender, what their hair looks like, whatever. Why? Because it’s basic human respect.

The last 2 times America actually won a war it was Democratic (BIG D 😉) administrations. The only 2 presidential administrations to not add to the deficit in the last, nearly 60 years, were both big D Democratic administrations. Democrats passed the Civil Rights Act, all the racist Dixiecrats jumped ship and became Republican. Democrats nominated and elected the first African American president. We have TWICE nominated a woman at the top of the ticket.

While Republicans are whining about having to wear a mask LIKE EVERYBODY ELSE DID, Democrats passed legislation to address the problem of unemployment, of vaccinations, of shipping logistics, while they were at it passed a HUGE infrastructure package, invested billions in green energy (our future) and ensured national security by manufacturing the technology materials needed to be the best in the world. Simultaneously creating a ton of well paying, respectable middle class jobs.

The right is too busy talking about Jewish space lasers, and checking out Hunter Biden’s junk, and keeping weed illegal, and worrying about bathrooms and sh*t.

How is that manly at all?! Acting like a bunch of whiny immature kids! They even whine when they win!! It’s stupid! It’s a waste of time, money and energy. Just grow up and do the job you’re elected to do!

So yea… I would say the right isn’t the vision of manhood they pretend they are. It’s overgrown children, spoiled to the core, acting out because they want it their way 😤

What shows manliness is doing your job, and doing it to the best of your ability. Being a kindhearted person and willing to help someone in need. Being true to yourself, and in turn others. Being knowledgeable yet willing to learn. Being brave, but admitting when you’re scared.

[zablife]

@brummiereader That opening scene was quite chilling, knowing the truth about poor Mr. Wyatt as Y/n attempts to check on him 😬 When Tommy appears asking about her call, I couldn't help but think if she didn't confide in him, he'd make the necessary call to the switchboard operator (That is if he hadn't already!) But I must say, the thing that haunts me most is how he switches the charm on and off in front of their daughter!! The change in him always makes me shiver bc it indicates he knows exactly how he's behaving.

"The school called yesterday, while you were out...drinking" The way my jaw dropped and rage flew over me as soon as I read that 😡 And she believes he has a point?? She's clearly more brainwashed than I realized 😥 His taunts at the end about her foiled plans for independence are utterly heartbreaking.

Somehow I knew the visit to the school would also be her fault. It enraged me further to know Tommy is blaming Y/n once again for disrupting the household. And then he says, "So, she's got Arthur's temper." He's never willing to take the blame for anything is he???

I have to admit that I was shocked he allowed the detective to live (tho I'm sure it's only a matter of time before he's dealt with). Loving the repetition of his thought about keeping her safe bc it's a window into his delusional mind. I'm sure he does believe every rotten action of his is justified!

The scene when he talks to her sleeping form was SO GOOD!! But I had to wonder, where is this tenderness when she's awake? The constant need for control would be utterly suffocating. I mean, he's gone thru her entire wardrobe and thrown out what he won't allow her to wear? HUGE red flag!! No wonder she needs the whisky to get thru the following evening, attempting to play the happy wife.

"John was not the only guest guzzling down buckets worth of alcohol to see themselves through the quiet evening of judgemental stares from church folk with glowing hallows sitting above their saintly heads." I was dying at this bit! Ofc everyone would be dreading a night with Linda's friends and family 🤭 And then the hymns begin? OMG, I roared bc what must they think of this wayward lot? But my amusement was short lived as I realized what had become of Y/n's admirer. Johnny Dogs is starting to frighten me as much as Tommy tbh!

" I love you..." " I never stopped...never" Another jaw dropping moment as Tommy uses an unfair advantage to coax the sentiment out of her! At first, I believed it was just the bliss of the moment, but then I realized she'd been longing for him (a fate much worse imo). "for now, all you wanted was to feel your husband, be at one with him enough to let the crushing pain of his demands slip by." This was such a powerful moment to understand all the conflicting emotions she feels. All I could think was, God, it must be exhausting to be married to him!

That discovery at the end was by far my fave tho bc it scared the living shit out of me! She's seen the graves and she knows about the murders 😱 Oh no!! You leave us on a terrifying cliffhanger, darling! But I admit I loved every second. Already looking fwd to more (I just hope I can handle it 😬)

Binding Love (Part Four/ Dark!Tommy)

Summary: After another eventful morning, and onslaught of demanding questions from your husband. Linda and Arthur's engagement party has you unexpectedly seeing another side of your husband, the side you continue to yearn for. But with revealing his former self to you, comes revelations that will horrify you.

Warnings: Dark!Tommy, language, violence, psychological mind games, controlling behaviour, toxic relationship, manipulative behaviour, psychological abuse, mutual pining, angst, murder, smut.

Word Count: 5K

Authors Note: Sorry this chapter is late everyone. I had a busy week and not enough time to write. I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

[Masterlist] [Previous Part] [Trailer]

" When he turns up, can you have him call me?" your voice echoed down the line, fingers nervously twiddling with the twisted wire of the phone as you bit the corner of your bottom lip.

Last minute Larry his secretary had joked, you thought to yourself, reassuring your concerns as you placed the receiver down onto its brassy stand.

You just wanted to apologise, just wanted to hear the end of the nagging worries that had plagued you for the entirety of the night.

For Tommy had not only embarrassed you the previous evening with his raging paranoia, he had scared you. Scared you in a way that had your stomach turn, had you begin to fear for your own safety and the fate of your future, he held forever in his hands.

" Who was that?" your eyes snapped open to the sound of your husband's gravely voice ripiling down the curve of your neck, the lapels of his suit jacket gently brushing across the back of your flowing dress.

" No one" you flatly replied, your attempts to leave stopped by your husband's snaking hand slipping around your stomach.

" Don't lie to me, sweetheart" you felt the heat of his breath fan over your ear as he turned you around to face him.

Stood face to face, his looming frame pressed tightly against your heaving chest, forcing a suffocating response from you as you watched his gaze slowly drift to the telephone, brow cocking as he waited for your answer. " Well?"

"Mr Wyatts secretary. I just wanted to apologise, for leaving so...abruptly, last night" you chose your words wisely, choosing not to further rile his unpredictable temper up with lies he'd undoubtedly sive out as you attempted to pull away from his searching eyes.

" And how is, Mr Wyatt?" Tommy let go as his hand slipped into his jacket for a cigarette, clearing his throat of the curling smirk toying on the corner of his lips as he scooted his muddy boot away from you and the evidence of his nightly hobbies.

" Fine. He's fine" you replied, brow scrunching at his shuffling feet and usually pristine footwear inching away, when your intentions to be honest were overruled by a profund urge within you to not give your smug husband the satisfaction of thinking he'd gotten to someone.

But unbeknownst to you, he had gotten to someone. Gotten to someone in the most sinful, most derranged of ways that ended with a dead body and a trail of mud leading to his crime scene.

" Is that so, eh?" He took a lingering drag of the tobacco rolled between his fingers, blowing a cloud of smoke to the towering ceilings of your home before his eyes drifted down to meet yours with a glistening stare of mischievousness.

How sweet, how...Innocent, he thought to himself with amusement as your heart froze with a gut wrenching feeling of doubt that the previous night hadn't ended with Tommy's parting words and the slam of your bedroom door.

" Ay up, buttercup" Tommy's smirks left you with a sense of dread as his attention drifted to your daughter, nudging herself between your bodies,  beaming up at her parents with a dimpled smile. " How's my girl, eh?"

" Suited and booted, Daddy" she replied with all the seriousness her rosy cheeked pout could muster.

" Right come on then, little soldier. Let's go" Tommy jostled in his pocket for his car keys as the loving smile for your six year old suddenly dropped from your face.

" Wait, i'm...i'm taking her" you looked back at your husband with a scrunched brow of annoyance, reinforcing your intentions with a firm hand to his chest to stop him from invading your morning routine, a routine you was adamant on keeping.

" The school called yesterday, while you were out...drinking" he played the doting father as he watched your fingers fall from his chest, a wave of shame reddening your cheeks.

" They want to speak with us, together" he grabbed your parting hand, closing the gap between you.

" But you would have known that if you were ever home, with your family" his blazing eyes of turquoise, still seething with jealousy from the previous day, bore into you with a hushed statement of blame.

Was he right? Had you been spending less time at home? Less time with your daughter? It was one evening...one. Or had it...had it been more than that? Your mind began to torment you with the seeds of doubt Tommy had sewn, for the confusion beginning to fester away at your already weary thoughts.

Playing you so harmously in tune to the sound of his own fiddle, you stepped away, your searching hand reaching for your daughter with a look of worry settled between your brow as you racked your brain over the last six months worth of tangled memories.

" Not gonna take the bus then? Get there on your own, on your own terms, after that song and dance you made last night, hm?" His pettiness came to a simmer as he stalked towards you, unwilling to let you forget how angry you had made him, how he had been forced to make such drastic decsions on your behalf to keep you safe.

Feeling the pull of Elsie's hand, giving you no choice but to let Tommy have his satisfaction upon seeing you give in, you followed your daughter without a peep of defiance to the car with your husband's passing comments whispering in your ear. 

" That new life of yours lasted long, didn't it, darling?"

Unable to dodge the talking down from the headmaster you was sure you was about to get, you and Tommy got pulled to the side as your daughter joined her classmates for the day's activities.

" So?" Tommy huffed as he pulled out his pocket watch from within his waistcoat, convinced that whatever the man had to say was not worth his time nor patience.

" It's about your daughter's behaviour" the words of the suited man plunged your motherly worries into your stomach in one quick, sudden drop.

" What...what has she done?" You stepped forward from Tommy's side, concerned as to what had been so grave it warrented both you and your husband's prescence.

" Not only has she been misbehaving, Mr and Mrs Shelby, but she took it upon herself to pick the roses in the school yard during lunch yesterday. Earning her a detention, I assume you are both unaware of" his nose rose above his framed glasses as he judged not only your supposedly unruly child but you and Tommy, her unruly parents.

" You had my daughter sent to detention for picking a fucking flower?" Tommy stepped in front of you, brow furrowing at the punishment inflicted on your child for something he believed to be innocent, if not expected of any little girl or boy of her age.

" They were very special flowers, Mr..Mr Shelby. A school project, participated in by all the students" all superiority, his position as head teacher began to disapate as he caught sight of your husband's gun concealed beneath the heavy lapels of his coat.

" You're wasting our fucking time" Tommy scoffed, turning to leave with a guiding hand to your back, refusing to entertain the ridiculousness of the conversation and its supposed urgency.

" Tommy" you rested a gentle hand to his arm, a soothing enough touch to simmer the anger within him and have him take note of your welling eyes of worry.

" I'll have my gardener come and plant new ones. Better ones. We done now, Mr...?" Tommy waved his hand in front of him, swallowing back his irritation for your sake, if only to have the feeling of you seeking his support for a mere second longer, to feel that you needed him again. 

" Mr Shelby, that will not solve your daughter's naughtiness. I've become aware of some news as of late. I must ask, is everything ok at home?" The head of the school pressed, daring to rile your husband up with his relentless questions.

" What was that, eh?" Your husband's patience with the matter in hand suddenly snapped into a demanding need to know what exactly possessed the man in front of him to ask such a thing.

" Well, I...heard that you were..." He stumbled out his response, suddenly conscious of how far he had pushed his questions as you tried to pull Tommy back from cracking his skull open.

" Married" Tommy pointed his finger as his body loomed over the man unable to keep to his own business and not prod into that of the notorious brummie gangster.

" We're leaving" a hand to your back had you rushing out the corridor as you stopped yourself from pushing his anger to boiling point with the true state of your marriage and your impending demands of divorce, yet to be settled.

" Fuck 'em, Y/N" he ushered you outside to the car.

" We'll change schools, to a private one" he settled the problem his money could solve, refusing to face the true issue.

" Fucking flowers..." He scoffed, reaching in his suit jacket for a cigarette to simmer his anger.

" Me and Arthur did far more than pick a few daisies to earn us detention, darling" a chuckle left his lips as he pulled out his lighter, eyes darting to the school he'd be inclined to see go up in flames, flowers and all.

" It's not about that, Tommy" you sighed as you watched his straining fingers attempt to light the flame in the drizzle that had turned into a lashing of rain.

" So, she's got Arthur's temper" he waved off your concerns, mumbling through the cigarette perched between his lips as his failing attempts to light it saw his patience dwindling.

" Your temper more like. Shelby temper" you huffed with folded arms, brow creasing as you watched his thumb repeatedly flick over the lighter's metal head without success.

" Tommy she's acting out, she's seeing too much.  Us arguing, us fighti..."

" What do you want me do, eh Y/N?!" your husband snapped, throwing his soggy cigarette to the ground.

" You wanted this, not me!" he grabbed you by your arms as the pelting rain battered down onto your shoulders.

" Fuck Y/N, you really think...you really think I would give you up that easily? Let you leave me without a fight?" his head dropped down with a sigh of exhaustion as a silence washed over you with the rivers of water streaming past your feet.

" What are we doing, Tommy?" What are we doing to our little girl?" you began to sob, feeling his fingers clutch onto your arms, pulling you down with the weight of his body as his heavy shoulders slouched forward.

" Lets go home" he refused to answer as his head came up to meet the tears streaming down your cheeks, hand brushing the sorrowful sight of your drenched locks from your face.

" I'll walk" you pulled away with disappointment, turning to leave from the conversation you could never move past as his way continued to demand all control.

" Make my own way, remember? Get there on my own. So I can think, alone" you left him with the words he had spoken that morning, a string of words said in passing by him but ones that still continued to sting you.

" It's pissing it down, you'll get sick. Get in, I'll drive you home" you pushed off his attempts to usher you into the warmth of the car as you walked into the downpour.

" It'll do you know good to think alone Y/N. Y/N! " Tommy stood in the rain watching you walk away from him once again before nodding to his man lingering near by in an unspoken order to have him follow you when the insufferable sight of the detective that had be hassling you came into view, body propped up against the door of his car.

Always fucking there. Always trying to get to you, Tommy slammed his door shut as his eyes narrowed in, fingers turning the silver key in the ignition with only one plan of action in mind. 

Foot pressed on the accelerator, Tommy sped towards him, swerving into his car with controlled prescion as the screeching tires skidding across the concrete came mere centimetres away from taking him out. A clear show of dominance by your husband, to prove to the inquisitive officer that nothing was beneath him, nothing he wouldn't do to keep the upper hand, to have you keep quiet.

He was just keeping you safe. Keeping everyone...safe.

Aching muscles and a sniveling nose, sick from your long pensive walk in the rain back to Arrow House, hadn't been on your list of things to endure before Linda and Arthur's engagement doo that evening. And with Tommy being right about the likely outcome of your stubbornness and refusal to have him drive you home, you had decided to drown yourself within the comfort of your bed than see the satisfaction on his face.

Curled up in within the freshly laundered sheets, you let yourself drift off to sleep as the man whose smugness you couldn't stand to face watched from the bedroom door, glass of water in hand with only a face of conern etched between his brows than the cockiness you thought you'd be met with.

" I hate to tell you I told you so, love" he quietly sighed as he padded towards you, placing the crystal tumbler on your bedside cabinet.

Perching himself on the edge of the bed, the weight of his own worries pushing his body down into the soft mattress as he ran his fingers through the length of his hair, pulling at the strands of stress.

" I can't help myself, darling" he confessed his lack of self-control in the silence, taking the opportunity to lay bare his sins as he watched you peacefully sleep, your mind momentarily free from the stress, from the shouting and arguing.

" Everything I do..." He stopped himself as he pinched his brow of the inner turmoil he felt. " Everthing I've done, it's been for you" he lifted his hand, inching it closer to your face and the lone twisted lock of hair resting on your cheek.

" I'm trying, love" he quietly added, his voice cracking under the weight of emotions scrambling up his throat, fully aware of his unpredictable temper that saw him doing the unspeakable, wholeheartedly believing his bloody hands were stained in your honour, for your safety.

" I'm just a man" he dulled his actions, justified his merciless slayings with his mortal, imperfect form as he brushed the lone ringlet of hair from your fluttering lashes.

"Y/N?" a part of him hoped you were listening, hoped you had heard his admissions of guilt.

" One day you'll forgive me" he snatched his hand away from your resting body, clearing his throat as he rose from the bed to flee his exposed vulnerabilities he felt foolish for laying bare as you began to stir in your sleep.

But rest was far from what you awoke to. For what was supposed to be a relieving sleep, turned into a thumping headache, drilling into the sides of your skull.

" Fuck" you huffed, lifting yourself from the covers as you forgoed the glass of water sitting on the table for the bottle of whiskey behind it.

If you were going to get through tonight, through Linda's obnoxious happiness, the reminder of your strained relationship, through this pummeling heachache, you would do it half conscious, you thought to yourself as you swigged back the amber liquid.

" Frances, what ever would I do without you?" your eyes drifted to the dress hooked on your bathroom door, your trusted housekeeper had managed to find for you after Tommy took it upon himself to rid you of anything that showed an inch of skin.

Fingers gliding over the silky crimson gown, you admired the beauty of the garment in front of you. It's soft fabric running through your palms until you came to a stop at the slit that Frances had sewn up after Tommy's demands.

Too high, too low, too much on show, Tommy's disaproving words rang in your head after the countless times he'd given his unwarranted opinions on your latest purchases.

At first you were flattered, flattered by his boyish jealousy that you'd comply. But when his jealousy came with a dousing of paranoia, and questions over who exactly you were dressing for, you began to resent the passionate show of love he'd shown.

Downing the last of the whiskey you threw the empty bottle on your bed before sizing up the satin dress and it's seemless sewing.

" There..." your face twisted as you pulled at the fabric, ripping the slit open and its looping threads one by one.

" That's better" you pulled the dress from its hanger, proping it up against your body to see your reflection in the mirror of your vanity and the provacating point you wanted to make.

Whether it be the whiskey that had fuelled your actions, the thumping headache or your frustrations with yourself for not standing your ground. One thing was sure, you was adamant on matching Tommy's pettiness and show him the true meaning of jealousy and the stark difference between what he believed was you challenging him.

" Tommy, don't" Ada's hushed voice turned to him, blocking your husband's eyes honed in on you giggling into the shoulder of a guest. A male guest. " She's just..."

"Trying to wind me up?" Tommy stepped away from his younger sister to see you glancing over at him, hips turning for him to see the provocking sight of your dress the way it was intended to be worn and not how he had Frances adjust it to his liking.

"...letting her hair down" Ada sighed, scooting herself back into his line of sight to save you from his glaring anger.

" Letting her hair down. Is that what that's called, eh?" he scoffed, tipping his glass in your direction, to the man accompanying you. The same man enthusiastically tending to your every need in a handsy display that had you flinch away, spilling the flute of champagne down yourself.

"Clumsy, clumsy" he chuckled, leering in as he pulled out his hankie to wipe the spilt droplets of bubbly that had trickled down your exposed thigh.

" Shit" Ada sighed, her protective stance not enough for her brothers fox-like eyes to see red the moment the gentleman beside you took it upon himself to dab away your clumsiness.

"It's ok, really" your panicked hands pulled the handkerchief from him as the shine of his gold cufflinks, encrusted with ruby gems caught your eye when a set of heavy footsteps appeared through your lashes. 

" What are you playing at, eh?!" Tommy snatched you away to the darkened corner underneath your winding foyer stairs.

" Nothing" you huffed, lifting your glass to your painted lips with a pout, feeling your legs sway from side to side as the champagne and half bottle of whiskey you had chugged earlier began to take effect.

" I know what you're doing" he snatched the crystal glass from your hand, tossing it's contents on a nearby leafy houseplant, unfortunate enough to be within close vicinity.

" Good. Is it working?" Your brow arched, unable to stop the emerging teen girl from your younger years trying to rile up her boyfriend of one week.

" Yes" Tommy's response took you by surprise, his battered eyes tired of arguing, catching you off guard as his finger trailed up your bare leg, closing the silky fabric around your exposed skin to save your modesty. " I came to you earlier. Did you hear me whe..."

" Speeches, everyone! My Artie wants to say something" Linda's voice broke the tiny glimpse into your past, your husband's soft voice only reserved for you, free from demands, from the constant bickering that had taken over your daily life.

"Y/N, wait..." His reaching hand held onto the tips of your fingers, backing away to join the happy couple as Tommy's breathy sighs followed you, his change in mood confusing you enough to put up your guard in fear that his unexpected move was just another calculated step in his unwinnable game of toing and froing with your emotions.

Was Tommy finally done? Too tired to fight?

 " 'ere's to Arthur and Linda" everyone drew a breath as John's tipsy speech came to its highly anticipated end. His waving hand, gesturing a toast to the happy couple, seeing the last of his gin at the feet of Linda's emmaculate heels.

Too much joy, too much happiness for any Shelby family member to endure, John was not the only guest guzzling down buckets worth of alcohol to see themselves through the quiet evening of judgemental stares from church folk with glowing hallows sitting above their saintly heads. 

"Right, yeh...thanks John boy" Arthur's twitching moustache and gangly legs rose from his seat only for his brother to pipe up with another string of words he'd have heard. 

"One last thing, yeh" he clapped his hands together as you felt the gentlemen that had been lingering close to you all night scoot along the plush settee next to you. A move that had you slipping half of your seat away from his unwarranted attention you no longer sought out to irritate your husband with. 

"May yous two one day 'ave the love of your hosts tonight. Alright lads, have at it. Bottoms up!" your heart raced at Johns drunken speech, watching him bring his empty glass up to his lips as your cheeks reddened with embarrassment at your and Tommy's contradicting relationship being made a highlight of the evening.

" Right John, let's get you some water" Ada hurried to her rambling brother, ushering him away from over indulging himself in anymore of Tommy's cellar full of booze as she mouthed her silent apologies to you.

" Never have I seen a love like that. It breaks my bloody heart, Ada. Breaks me 'art!" John's passionate speech continued as your welling eyes drifted up to the pining pare of your husband's and the impact your brother-in-law's unexpected words had mutually effected you both.

" Yes, we're all very heartbroken. Now, shut up" you heard the last of Ada's motherly tone drift from the room as one of Linda's guests took it upon themselves to drone out the awkward silence with an equally awkward, droning hym to top off the disastrous evening.

"The darkness deepens Lord, with me abide. When other helpers fail and comforts flee..." 

Head downcast, you let your tears fall into your lap as the singing commenced, desperately trying to hide your seeping emotions and the slit in your dress with fumbling fingers as you glanced up at Tommy gesturing you with a tilt of his head to join him, to let him comfort you.

But with a downfall of tears worthy of the storm battering against the windows from outside, you fled from your seat to the empty confides of your foyer as Tommy lept up after you.

"Wher...where are you going?" the man that had hounded you all evening followed in suit, furious his intended fuck for night was getting away as Tommy shot his trusted friend Dogs a silent command to deal with the unwelcome guest until he'd checked on you. 

" Are you a gambling man?" Johnny's chesire grin and looping arm wrapped around the gentleman's shoulders, guiding him out of Arrow Houses back door down to its vast landscape, and woody end. 

" Five shillings here, says you won't be able to outrun..." the rules of Dogs game drifted outside with his steady steps into the night sky, until the faint shrieks of a scream could be heard amongst the improtu singing from within the warmth of your home. 

Letting yourself fall into bed, you buried your head in your pillow as the soft click of the door closed and the dwindling sounds of the party faded out to Tommy's body settling itself next to you on the plush covers. 

" Hey shh, c'mere" he pulled you into his chest, your reluctance rapidly fading as you nestled your cheek against his body. Needing the gentle side of your husband he'd let free for the evening to soothe the pang of heartache you felt, for the memories of the love you shared that had resurfaced after John's blundering speech.

" Bloody John, eh?" his chest rose with a chuckle, lacing his fingers in your hair as he inched his body closer to you when a stifled sob left your throat.

" I'm tired, Tommy. I'm so tired of everything" you sniffed, pawing at the cascade of unstoppable tears streaming down your cheeks with frustration as your husband gently lifted your chin to him. 

" I know, darling" his voice echoed the sentiments you felt as he took over from your shakey hands, and gently wiped the pools of sadness from your lashes. 

Eyes gazing longingly into each others, Tommy bet against any rejection you'd see his ego take another dramatic fall with, and pressed a chase kiss to your lips as you pulled your head away. 

" Stop. Just stop ..." he sighed, turning you back to face him as his fingers glided down your neck, drawing you in with his tender touch. 

" I love you" his nose brushed against yours as his eyes fluttered shut, hands gently squeezing at your body with his mouth agape with anticipation. 

" Don't say you don't either" he swallowed back, fingers trailing under the curves of your breasts as he let out a breathy moan.

" I don't" you let the last of your tears fall from your cheeks as you abruptly turned your back to him, pushing his needy hands away. 

" You're lying" he huffed, letting his head fall back against the silk cushion, arm rested above the lengths of his hair as he brushed along the bar of frustration across his brow. 

" So those tears didn't mean anything then, eh? " he abruptly turned to slot his body behind you, lips kissing along your neck as he burrowed his hand under the cleavage of your dress, cupping your breast in his hand with a squeeze. 

Eyes shooting open, you clawed at the bed sheets as a surge of pleasure rushed through your body, head dizzy with the image of your husband gently thrusting himself into your clothed body in the reflection of your bedroom window. 

" Say it, Y/N. Say you love me, say you still want me, need me" his voice moaned with urgency as his eyes flew up to yours in the weathered glass.

"I don't..." Your voice hitched in a pitiful attempt to lie through your feelings as you pushed back to meet his straining erection pressed against your body. 

In one swift movement, Tommy ripped the front of your dress, exposing your body for him to see in your shared reflection as your hand flew to his thigh, nails digging through the tailored fabric. 

" Lies, all lies" he hissed, encouraged by the sweet sounds of your whimpers he'd longed to hear again. " Say it. Say it so we can forget about it all, about everything" 

" I..." you bit your bottom lip, desperately trying to repress the strangled moan he was adamant on coaxing from you as he rolled his thumb around your stiffened nipple. 

" I love you..." your voice cracked, eyes opening to the sudden feeling of your husband's hands coming to a stop as you stared back with teary eyes at him in the backdrop of the starry skies, reflecting your bodies in the window of your bedroom. " I never stopped...never"

Flipping you onto your back, Tommy's lips crashed onto yours in a seering kiss of passion, ridding you of what was left of your clothes and the suit that had him seperating himself from the heat of your body. 

Hips snapping into you with each carefully positioned thrust, Tommy was adamant on making you forget, adamant on fucking you until he was convinced of your admission, until his paranoia let him believe it. 

"No more fucking divorce, eh?" He groaned, pushing his throbbing cock into the depths of you as his body rippled with pleasure. 

"No more separate rooms" his snapping hips sped up, causing a string of muffled moans to leave your swollen lips as you let yourself be free of the stress he'd induced.

"No more, Y/N. Say it?" He brought your legs up against his sweaty chest, lifting your lower body of the bed as he thrusted into you with abandon. Muscled arms straining, face scrunched as he desperately restrained himself from falling over the edge without an answer.

"Fuck...say it, sweetheart" He breathed heavily on the edge of blissful defeat as you lost yourself in the intensity of the moment. Both pining for each other, to feel at one with another like nothing had happened, like the many months worth of distress and arguing hadn't seperated you. 

" No more...no more!" your head flew back to your cushion, hands grabbing at the sheets as he brought you to a heated ecstasy of pleasure, spilling months worth of longing into you with a strangled grunt as he threw his head back in relief. 

Giving up, giving in. In that moment, not a thought or regret was spent caring. Tangled emotions and misplaced promises would be dealt with tomorrow. But for now, all you wanted was to feel your husband, be at one with him enough to let the crushing pain of his demands slip by.

Pulling you into his lap, Tommy brushed his tongue against yours as he reached between your sweating bodies to grab hold of his hardening cock, pulling you down onto him as his fiery breath bristled against your ear and he made his intentions known for the night.

"Again" 

" And these flowers I can pick?" Your daughter skipped alongside you as you made your way down to the gardens. 

" Yes, once they've bloomed, you can pick all of them. Every, single, one" you bent down to her little frame, sending her a playful wink as she ran off with an excited shriek. 

Keeping a watchful eye on your daughter as she collected every mismatch stick she could find through the treeline to border her very own rose garden, your hand slipped across your stomach, hugging your body with a blissful smile as you recounted the passionate evening you had spent with Tommy last night.

" Mummy, we have moles!" Your daughter's voice alerted you to her discovery as you pulled yourself from your heated thoughts. " Fat ones!" 

" Elsie!" You called back, weaving yourself through the towering trees, treading carefully along the woodlands grassy bedding, when a shining gold cufflink caught your eye.  

" Mummy, come look!" She excitedly shouted as you bent down to the curious object out of place amongst the woody surroundings, it's ruby encrusted focal point sparking a hazy memory within you. " They must be giants!" 

"Giant moles, are you..." You laughed only to grab her by the hand and pull her back when you came face to face with the three heaps of mud in a line next to each other. 

"Here mummy, daddy's" she gave you the matching cufflink she'd found on top of the freshly unearthed mountain, assuming the small piece of jewellery could belong to no one else but her father. 

" Elsie....come" your eyes widened, pulling her away from what was not mole hills but graves. Three graves, each with distingualble shades of dirt, in a haunting timeline of murder that had stretched over many days, if not weeks. 

The officer. The businessman. Unheard of since their encounters with you, your horrified eyes looked at the growing graveyard, convinced of who lay beneath each plot and their enforcers muddy boots, and remarks that trailed themselves back to their murder scene, when the clouds cleared your fogged memory about the small trinkets nestled within your palm. The gentlemen...

Hands clutching the cufflinks piercing against your reddening skin, your welling eyes unable to blink through the terror you felt had you pacing up the hill with shaky legs as your daughter ran ahead. 

"Daddy!" she lept into the arms of Tommy making his way down to meet you with a content smile, body and soul free of his sins.

" Everything ok, darling?" he pressed a tender kiss to your lips as your stance stiffened, hand releasing the cufflinks from behind you back into the grassy lawn as your shakey voice answered...

" Perfect" 

 

Next Part coming soon!

Tag list: @peakyswritings @justrainandcoffee @garrison-girl-08 @meadows5 @lavender-haze-01

@strangeobsessed @ttae-yong @lemonwithstupidity @lindsay00000 @mischievouslittlecreature

@jbrownta @lau219 @whereismymindnow @honeymoon8 @bruhidkjustwannaread

@strrvnge @paintedinpinks @edgyficuselastica

[vampyrevolution]

Saying Mel falls into the "Disposable Black Girlfriend trope" just because of jayvik completely disregards the writing of her character and how her relationship with Jayce is an echo of her problems with her mother and city.

Now I'm not saying the dbg trope is not a GENUINE problem in media, because it is, but usually this trope consists of a black woman with lousy writing who's tossed away for two (usually white and gay but that is a totally different long story that deals with a long history of racism and erasure of black women in queer spaces for the sake of gay men) characters who get with each other.

This is not that and I need to explain why. Jayce and Mel UNDOUBTEDLY loved each other at SOME point, but their relationship did not have solid ground hence them breaking up. Mel wanted to be with Jayce because it symbolized rebellion, a unique way of looking at life and helping people. It symbolized something she was willing to risk everything for to see it prosper because this was the city she was building for her family in Noxus, to show her family she WAS the wolf and could handle be a leader, and a peaceful one at that. But to Jayce, she symbolized high society, a seat at the very table that tried to get rid of him, a part of the power he thought he deserved and a place where he knew he could MAKE A DIFFERENCE FOR THE PEOPLE.

The two of them loved the idea of one another, but never independently, the other. To say Mel is the disposable black girlfriend is to also ignore everything she went through in the season finale and everything that she's becoming, especially with the information that Noxus (where Mel is and will most likely be a lead character again) will be another series location. Mel is a complex lead whose story revolves around her at home life and familial relationship. Yes she's used as a mirror to parallel Viktor but that literally doesn't mean she's disposable, breaking up just means two characters were not meant to be and they recognized that.

Also in what world would Jayce be able to consciously even want to get back with Mel knowing she had magic and he was on a mini solo-war against the arcane? Where he thinks she's been able to control her magic this whole time and would constantly wonder why she didn't save Viktor because if she had, none of this would be happening?

That man does not wanna be with her 😭 he has literally always thought about Viktor.

And Mel has always thought about her family

They've both always seen each other as a way out their problems and a gateway/mirror to the ones they love. You could even say they're two sides of the same coin.

Also, Mel, Ekko and JayVik literally saved everyone in the end so idk how you could think this when Mel literally helped save the whole world as an imperative character to the plot.

[hexite-nightmares]

My very unorganized thoughts on S2 of Arcane but only about Viktor

Alright I finally had time to think and write everything down so here we go. I want to preface that I have been weary about this season ever since I watched the act 1 leaks. Mainly because it was very clear he was never going to be a machine, and they didn't give him enough screen time to develop his motivations into ACT 3 Viktor being convincing enough

LET'S START WITH THE FALSE PROPHET VIKTOR

Alright so he has about 11 minutes ish of screentime. Aside from the glaring issue of Jayce reviving him and not destroying the hexcore, taking away agency from a disabled character. It was clearly a false prophet situation, but it was so fucking confusing on whether he could feel like a regular human, if he was under the Hexcore's control which makes the agency issue worse or just jaded. He all of a sudden starts speaking like he's reading Deuteronomy passages ?? We don't know for sure if he's aware that he's basically creating a hive mind now, did he start his plans of making everyone into one right here? Sky seems to encourage him to do this, what does she know about it since shes been in the hexcore ALONE for a little longer? (writers didnt confirm whether it was the real her or not) . Act 1 Viktor's issues are mostly about agency, and a seeming full abandonment of his identity as a scientist, his personality does a full 180. He doesn’t seem to question that the object that revived him and killed Sky is giving him healing powers, but he’s angry at Jayce so we have no clue if he’s being controlled or not.

The show doesn't seem to care to spend time with him bc Isha and Ambessa I guess.

Anyways lets move on to not even act 2, but ep 6, his only episode in this act.

I had huge gripes with this episode, mainly because whatever the fuck was going on with Viktor trying to "keep" Vander's humanity, when he clearly was taking it away from everyone he touched, does he actually believe what he's saying or is he under the Hexcore's control still?. Obviously the glaring issues of Sky being there without any actual input, they're cosmic friends I guess but with very generic lines, and the fandom has to fill in the blanks with whatever Amanda Overton feels like saying about Sky in the moment(if we don't see it in the show I don't take it as her development, sorry). So Viktor builds Colloidal silver drinking Joshua tree and ppl think it's fucking Eden, Jinx calls him a Machine Herald when there's NO SIGN OF MACHINERY JUST PURPLE MAGICAL METAL LOOKING FLESH. We get a whole ass different realm with no explanation other than, oh yeah Viktor is inside there. Jayce comes in and almost kills him. The only option there is at this point is for Singed to start his MH era. The choice of becoming MH is nonexistent now, other people have to jumpstart things for him. I know some people interprete this commune as Viktor achieving his dreams, thinking he was being himself, that he was in paradise with Sky and.. that wasn’t the case for me.. it was extremely sinister. Worst part of this Act, is that MH was seemingly a damn trial experiment for Orianna.

BONUS:

So it seems that Christian Linke has confirmed Sky was the hexcore using its influence to manipulate viktor into the glorious evolution. He said it was meant to be as a misdirect. So to everyone who got dunked on here for “wanting to be spoonfed” or “not reading into it deep enough” for thinking he was being mind controlled, you were right about it being the hexcore. Viktor has been confirmed to have no agency until episode 9 I guess. He also mentioned Viktor’s goal was getting the most power/influence… we never saw a fucking glimpse of this in season one I’m sorry.

ACT 3

First awful problem here is obviously Singed having to jumpstart things. Viktor is aware for his choice of whatever is happening with the egg thing. Yet....there's still no sign of machinery. We get a scene where Sky fucking dies again, he refers to her as Ms Young, which im guessing is a parallel to the other time he dismissed her in S1. But of course we get the double fridging in the show, cuz making female characters just for the sake of advancing her crush's plot line is sooo amazing. Here lies sky, the character who is barely a character. Well after that we get the sequence of his transformation and we get that butt ugly mask. His personality does another huge change again. So we know the hexcore is not influencing him anymore as the hexcore completed its goal of the glorious evolution.. so I guess viktor really does think this is the right way?

A huge issue I have again, is the lack of agency. In this particular scene Jayce goes "My partner died in this room" yeah..Viktor didn't fully choose to become this right? it all started with Jayce using the hexcore on him, it’s been manipulating him the whole ass season…Kinda wish there was some sort of acknowledgement from Jayce that he’s basically the catalyst of this.

He gets his laser because...fanservice. There's no way he went all the way to the lab and magically attached it to himself just to cut off a wall. He keeps going on that choice is false, but a few minutes before he said he’d evolve all of those willing?

In the cosmos, beautiful sequence. I don’t love Jayce’s dialogue choices(about his disease) here and then it all being about viktor hating himself.. since the hexcore was leading to all of this, his motivation for it all being self hatred feels a bit eh. The sequence is beautiful and Jayce and Viktor destroying the anomaly with the rune shard is nice, that part was cute. But then they kinda disappear and we only know that viktor is alive so far, no clue about Jayce. The sequence is touching towards the end and I’m a sucker for characters finding each other in every timeline/universe but it can’t make up for all the other things that are bothering me. This seems to be the one time Viktor has some sort of agency I guess.

Then obviously the worst part that will bother me forever. The thing that made me almost slam my laptop shut

This retcon is just awful I shouldn’t even have to say why, it makes things fucking weird and it’s frankly stupid. Also viktor can’t rock a beard like that.

Anyways this is very disorganized, fuck you riot I felt like an insane former this whole time but I was right.

[rottenpumpkin13]

How does Zack cry?

What does it look like? What does it sound like?

What does he like for comfort?

Any other CC importants/you prefer to write about? Their cry comfort scenario?

Zack: When Zack cries, it's as if his emotions finally have nowhere else to go. It's a violent, consuming, absolute. torrent of tears. When he breaks, he shatters, a surge of frustration, pain, and helplessness that crashes over him all at once. He's not against being vulnerable in front of others, but even his closest friends may be shocked.

He drops to his knees, hands clutching his face, the sobs coming in jagged, gasping sounds. His body shakes violently, as if trying to expel every ounce of despair he's been bottling up, like a broken little kid trying to understand why everything is too much. When he tries to wipe them away, it only makes it worse—anger and embarrassment mixing. He doesn't want to cry, he hates it, but it’s beyond his control.

It's always at breaking point when you'll find him like this, utterly wrecked. Angeal usually finds him. Angeal knows exactly what to do—he wraps his arms around Zack, presses his chest against his back, his voice soft, steady, always telling him that it's okay to break down. And sometimes, Cloud is there, quieter, but just as determined in his own way. He doesn't have words like Angeal does, but he knows how to soothe through action.

Sephiroth: He never cries. Not in the way the others do. His tears don't announce themselves. They simply exist—silver trails down pale cheeks, no sound, no acknowledgment. He was taught to suppress emotions from the very start, conditioned to believe that showing weakness is the path of failure. He holds it in, all of it, for as long as he can. It's not loud. There's no sobbing, no hysteria, just the quiet, aching drip of tears he can't stop as his hand clutches his chest. Genesis would pull him in for a hug and recite poetry, Angeal would speak soft, careful words about healing as he stroked his hair. But Genesis and Angeal won't always be there. When they leave, Sephiroth just lets them fall, because what else can he do?

Genesis: When Genesis cries, it's anger that brings the tears. It's rarely sorrow, sometimes pain—but usually it's fury, frustration, and deep, burning rage that finally breaks him. His tears come in rivulets, hot and salty, mingling with the blood he's drawn from biting his lip in a vain attempt to keep it together. His face flushes red and it's hard for him to look anyone in the eye. Angeal is there, and Genesis melts into his arms like ice under a flame, sobbing in the arms of his best friend, the anger slowly dissipating into sorrow.

Angeal: He has always been the one who holds everyone else together. Strong for his friends, strong for the younger soldiers, strong for his mother, even when he's the one who feels like he's falling apart inside. He's the anchor, the steady one—the one who takes on burdens with a smile, even when it's too much. He learned long ago to push his own feelings aside, to keep going, to keep others from seeing his own cracks. But sometimes he can't keep it in any longer. His tears come when he's busy, when he's talking to to other people. He pretends that everything is fine, that it isn't happening. He wipes them away quickly, continue on with whatever task he's been doing. And the problem with Angeal is that he's very reluctant to let other people comfort him.

Rufus: He's been taught to suppress everything. He's the apparent heir to Shinra, the man who's expected to be strong, calculating, always in control. "Tears are a sign of weakness," is what dear old dad would say, "emotions are to be controlled and tucked away."

He learned this lesson early from his father, who showed him that to show emotion is to show vulnerability, and vulnerability is the enemy of power. But when he cries as an adult—as opposed to a lonely child in the arms of whatever nanny was hired to care for him, it's the loud, devastating kind, type kind of crying that belongs to a little kid forced to grow up too fast, but only with Tseng to witness it. Tseng has always been the one to comfort him, who knows exactly what words Rufus needs as he collapses in his arms, exhausted by the emotional buildup. Tseng will hold him, stroke his hair, murmur soothing words that Rufus needs desperately. Afterward, Rufus will pretend it never happened, acting like he's still the same reserved, controlled VP he always was. If Tseng ever brings it up again, there's a very real chance that he might find himself in the line of one of Rufus' bullets.

[midesastremanifiesto]

All Charles has to do nowadays is make some vague and non-specific remarks to supposed agreements that were made before the race (that others in the team have not referenced). Let’s say such agreements were made, does he not realize races are ever changing and plans may need to be amended? But, yeah, all he has to do is mention these supposed plans and boom, the narrative is set that Carlos has broken team orders and that’s what everyone runs with. He’s very skilled at directing hate at Carlos and also perpetuating it like with his instagram post, just always adding more fuel to the fire.

He knows exactly what he is doing, he is like a bully who only does this to the weaker person, because he knows Carlos is not as supported as him within the team (i mean by those who rule the team), he has the italian press on his side and most of the tifosi will believe him. He knows he can control the narrative now, he is in that position of power, that's how bullies operate. But he wont be doing that with Lewis, first of all because Ferrari is not going to let him do what he does to Carlos, and also because Lewis also has the British press behind him and a huge fanbase. In the end, Charles is a coward (i didnt know the radio was on? C'mon now)

At this point he is partially responsible for the hate Carlos gets from lecfosi, he is the first one who gives them amunition (controversial maybe, idc)

[bawmbo]

hi, thank you. youve opened a can of worms that cannot be closed

killer is such an interesting character to me. i realized that im not actually too sure where to start but ill start with his timeline;

the idea of a character whose home was slowly destroyed for reasons outside of their control and beyond what they couldve ever thought was real is an incredibly interesting concept to me. i also love psychological horror and reality breaking type of things in relation to it.

to be transformed into something outside of the bounds of definition, and live with the consequences of that, of your loss of autonomy is terrifying. to be named under that total loss is horrifying. to know that everybody will only know your name and never what you went through to get there, that no one would even really care. not that you could get yourself to. theres so much potential with the idea of someone who wants to drain your world of everything for entertainment, and they can forcefully recode it, and they do not care about you because you are just a game character to them. and you are the only one aware of this. and when youre taken out of the timeline by a strange man who can also forcefully shift your control of your situation, everyone will only know you as just as bad as him. as a murderer with no reason. and every time you look at this man (nightmare) all you can feel is the same hatred you feel for yourself. you cant help but feel like youre the same. but this isnt about nightmare as much as i really do love him and writing his character (also super passionate about him)

i have a lot of problems in general with his fandom portrayal and the fact that we either see him as portrayed as either incredibly childish, dumb, very sexualized, etc. and its okay to want to write him how you want to write him, have fun, just not our cup of tea

to us, hes incredibly agile, quiet. hes eerie and incredibly smart and much more aware of whats going on than he lets on. he has lost all respect for anyone who claims theyre more powerful than him, and the way he taunts is by bringing them back to his level (or just doing things he knows pisses them off but not enough to get him killed for it. massive staring problem and wont elaborate on it). and while he can be flirty, where i understand the sexualization comes from.

i think i just crave more in depth characterization from him. how terrifying he is during battles, how he knows the knives he fights with better than the air he breathes and the placement of his feet just as much. how he could be using his magic but its difficult to fight him even without it. the absence of what he could be doing and the presence of how difficult what he is doing showing through. his disconnection from the world around him and how hard it is to realize that everything around you is just codes. that everything is malleable in the wrong hands and everyone lives their lives blissfully unaware of how quickly things can change. and how he could be deeply angry by this but never actually feel it well in his chest like he sees with others. he isnt indifferent, and at some point, somewhere he might express that care. but he cant. and this is it. and he doesnt know how to move on from that.

maybe when he gets close to people his relationships end up showing slow signs of trust. when he does trust people is he surprised if they leave? how scared is he to depend on anyone when no one was ever there to? maybe one day he finally learns to sleep with his chest or back exposed and around people. and his version of hanging out is going "hey i know a spot" and its a 50 minute walk through a closed off forest but its beautiful. and youll probably get some diseases, just gotta hope you dont. the next place is probably a feral cat colony hiding in the sewers hes been feeding and slowly gaining the trust of. hes weird.

in general i really do love complex characters and think about them a lot. and i love seeing how complex characters can be written. i love exploring the possibilities with him and i find that when we either write him or collab stories where we write characters interacting with him, we have a lot of fun and end up thinking about him a lot.

my friend @nullandvalid is a big killer enthusiast too and if you send him an ask you could probably get a big rant too. (also @thaltro. both him and null write killer super well imo. been incredibly fun to listen to them talk about how they write him and engage in writing stories with them) thank you for giving me time to yap about it, ill probably be thinking of more in the meantime but this is all i have atm fhahaha

another one for fun, pretty experimental. this one was one of those "draw regardless of whether or not you think it looks good" things. swore to myself the next utmv character i drew and posted was gonna be fell but here we are. gonna try to get used to posting things that i dont consider my best work. hi killer love you dude

[lesbianyosano]

Wait so is this like. The manga version also? Or is this like a full metal alchemist oh shit we ran out of things to animate let’s make up our own story now???? Very confused

i have. no fucking clue to be honest but if i were to guess the manga will be similar?? bc im assuming asagiri and harukawa had the chapters done for months now, early enough to give them to the anime team to animate and 111 is just one of them

i really didnt like this episode i think the pacing was bad and rushed so im hoping theres some more info in the manga?? but also. it would suck so bad if we were now behind the fucking anime and unless we get like 3 fucking chapters next month thats whats going to happen

and with the 2 hours later thing, i dont think its an anime thing bc of how it resembles the fit fukuchi is wearing in that last doa official art, but 2 hours????? girl what on earth is going on. this arc has been so pong and exhausting and the writing has been decreasing in quality and were all tired so the idea of sth huge happening soon is just really not that exciting to me. i want to see the political repercussions and the page not another fight, at least not now

but yeah tldr i dont think this is an anime only resolution, at least not entirely. a lot of the things make sense ig (like bram regarding his body and dropping the vampires, i feel like thats the only thing that could have happened) but maybe the pacing will be better and maybe therell be some useful info

[xxplastic-cubexx]

WAIT WAIT WAIT CHERIK MPREG IS CANON

i cannot stress enough how canon cherik mpreg is, yes my friend

[thelien-art]

Day 2: Maglor of @feanorianweek

Kingship

Poppy = Sloth | Manipulation

I do think Maglor mourned when Maedhros got himself captured, I just also read Maglor as a manipulative power hungry character.

He probably convinced himself that Maedhros had died and ignored everything that proved otherwise, both as a poor coping mechanism and, subconsciously, seizing the power of being a king, although he never named himself one as that would give him trouble. He differently enjoyed the power and mourned, when Maedhros came back, for the power loss. He was happy to have his brother back of course. I don´t think he spoke against Maedhros choice to give the kingship to Fingolfin, even if he wanted it himself, as he did except Fingolfin to do something stupid and get himself killed eventually, and by agreeing he seemed more "civil" and the friendliest of his brothers, which would end up giving him political power, giving people the illusion that he´s the innocent and harmless of his family.

Maedhros | Celegorm | Caranthir | Curufin | Ambarussa | Nerdanel and Feanor