#give that bitch some regression

[oifaaa]

It's funny how opinions can change over time for instance I used to want Bruce to be a good parent but then I realised how fucking boring that is to read at the end of the day comics are soap operas and I'm here for the drama

[jamiethebeeart]

:D (I ramble in my tags about this)

[thatnoulguyorsomething]

I was thinking, violence can work, but it can also backfire horribly. Unfortunately I don't often get the choice of what to do in those situations (either because other people escalate, or because I am more busy doing damage control), but, since I am already perceived masc and arab (iow people always assume violence from me anyway), I have found that it has a much more threatening effect to be as calm and to-the-point as possible (but still maintaining the same point - ie, making the "only good * is a dead *", standing up a couple steps in front of the guy, and just staring him down).

Again, generally good advice, but situationally dependent. The bit about "diversity of tactics" was very relevant, and that also requires an understanding of the tactics and their applicability.

Some very eloquent notes on violence as a necessity for resistance.

[kisshim]

i’m telling you this country is heading in a downward spiral until we’re back in 1935

[juletheghoul]

regression

a/n: Okay, this one is going to be a little different, in this chapter we get some angst. I received a few amazing asks about Girlwife slipping back into calling Marcus Dominus, and how he would feel. There is obviously a playful way it could happen, or even in a sexual capacity, control and all that but some of the asks were of an angsty nature and this is where I delved. No sexy stuff in this chapter, dealing with Lavinia (nasty, jealous bitch) and postpartum. Hope you enjoy, always happy to receive messages and dms about Marcus and his Girlwife. 🖤 Not beta’d, barely proofread **ps, I googled what a Wetnurse was called in ancient Rome and got a few different answers - I went with nutrix.

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, shame, submissive reader (postpartum) angst, angry Marcus, remorseful Marcus, Lavinia being her usual cunt self 😒

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 2.3k

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist series masterlist

His thumb presses against the furrow in your brow, a feather light stroke to wipe the frown off your face. You sigh, Diana calm and asleep against your breast, milk-drunk and perfect.

“It is only for the day, my love. The women, and the nutrix will take care of her.” His tone is soothing, patient despite the tremble in your frame. Tears well in your lashes, emotions that feel too big and too uncontrollable course through your being. 

“Apologies–” his thumbs wipe the tears away, shaking his head to dismiss your apology, “I just, I don’t know why my nerves are so shredded–” You take a deep breath, to sigh a deep sigh.

“There are no apologies needed, this is a big step. We have not been apart from her since she was born. It is perfectly normal for you to be fearful, but I swear to you she will be well-cared for.” His hand looks so massive on the crown of her head, a gentle sweep while the tears fall in a steady stream. “We make an appearance, show our faces, I find out the meaning of the invitation and then come straight back here.” 

Her little chest rises and falls in your arms, the full pout of her lips stained with milk, her fingers curled up under her chin, all of her cracks your heart in half. 

“Yes, you’re right.” With another deep sigh, you rise, handing her gently off to the older woman waiting quietly beside you. She smiles at the child in her arms, rocking softly to keep her asleep. Already you miss her, the little weight of her, the smell of her hair and it feels like a part of you is missing despite her being right before your eyes. 

He presses a kiss to her forehead before she’s taken away by what is for all intents and purposes, her mother for the day. 

His arms gather you up and for a moment the unexplainable despair swallows you like an ocean, a rogue wave crashing you into a wall. He says nothing, only holds you tightly within his comforting embrace. 

You’re quiet on the way to the gathering, quiet as you walk through the halls of the Senators home, looking but not really seeing–attention still wrapped up in Diana and the uncertainty of her well-being despite his assurances, and the deep-seeded knowledge that the women in your house would give their lives for her. It was hard to remember that just now, without the weight of her within your arms. 

Attendants greet you, offering wine to which you politely decline. They lead you to a great room, filled with people and food and part of you wishes to run out the door. 

“We will only be here until he has said his piece to me, once I know the purpose of this we will be gone. I will not keep you away from home longer than is necessary my love.” He says the words low into the skin of your temple, a soft kiss to seal it before he leads you towards the owner of the home. 

You watch as the older man greets Marcus, give him a tight smile when he presses a kiss to your cheek in greeting, and let him lead you to a place at his table. 

“You must tell me, to what do we owe the pleasure of your invitation?” Marcus drinks the wine offered with one hand, while holding yours in the other and you’re grateful for his pressing. 

“But you have only just arrived General Acacius, we will get into the matter once everyone has arrived. Fear not, eat, enjoy.” The older man, Senator Cassius, laughs and engages with other guests while others arrive. 

“Lady Acacius, I have not yet had the pleasure.” A woman sits down in the place next to you, smiling brightly, “I am Caecilia, the wife of Senator Cassius and the Lady of this house.” She presses kisses to your cheeks.

“The pleasure is all mine, thank you for receiving us.” You smile your best smile, hoping to the Gods that you look presentable, that you are not leaking milk. She waves away your thanks.

“I wanted to congratulate you on the birth of your child, we were very happy to hear the news, and of your union to General Acacius of course. You must be a special woman indeed to have ensnared him.” She smiles, looking to Marcus and it’s said with an air of playfulness, not malice. 

“She is indeed.” Marcus slips his arm around your shoulder and you feel the heat crawl across your face.

“I don’t know if ensnared is the word—” She laughs, and you know she’s teasing you, a friendly poke to lighten the mood. 

“Of course not my lady, you are a beautiful young woman and I have never seen him so happy, I was only teasing.” You like her instantly, she’s older than you but not by much and you continue to chat with her until the men rise. Your stomach drops but Marcus presses close. 

“I am only going to the study with him to finally know the truth of why we are here. Do not fret, I will return shortly.” He places a kiss to your neck. 

“Yes yes go off, you men tend to your business, leave us ladies to entertain ourselves.” Caecilia takes your hand in hers and squeezes it firmly, reassuring you and you nod to him. 

Chatting with her is oddly comforting, she’s sweet and honest and much more playful than you thought she’d be. Usually these gatherings are full of gossip and the cruel undercurrent of high society that sours the mood. This however feels light, other women join your conversation, they ask questions about Diana, they congratulate and relate and it is for the most part, enjoyable. Until a late guest enters the house. 

Lavinia enters with her new, young husband in tow. A sour faced man, high up in the senate and you feel the way Caecilia stiffens beside you. 

“Where is Senator Cassius?” He asks, without greeting. Your nerves fray still more when Lavinia catches your eye, a narrowing of her eyes lets you know that she is not happy at having been passed over. 

“I am here, and you are late, come, we have been waiting for you.” Senator Cassius is at the edge of the room, his tone clipped. 

Lavinia joins the group, sitting across from you and you cannot be sure if it is just your apprehension at seeing her, but the atmosphere turns icy. 

“I must congratulate you Lavinia, on your union.” Caecilia’s tone is full of cold courtesy, devoid of any of the warmth she spoke to you with. 

“Gratitude Caecilia.” She bows her head, smiling wide before turning her attention to you, her eyebrow raising in a manner you do not like. “I must congratulate you as well, Lady Acacius, on trapping the General, and with a baby no less. Must be strange for you to be amongst such elevated company, and not be required to pour.” Her smile is sharp, and some of the other women tut, displeased with her rudeness. Your lashes fill with unshed tears, the stress of leaving your daughter, the absence of Marcus, being away from your house and your comfort turn the barbs into something bigger, something devastating. 

“That is no way to speak to Lady Acacius, especially not in my house.” Caecilia shoots back, quick and you’re grateful for her, the shock of rudeness has left you speechless. 

“Oh come now, it’s obvious. Man like him marries a slave and parades her around–”

“I seem to recall you wanting to be paraded by him.” Caecilia cuts her off, “I seem to recall you being rejected, twice.” Lavinia’s eyes widen, some of the other ladies laugh. 

“I recall that as well, I heard there was a rumour of a tantrum you threw to your father because Acacius did not want you.” Another of the girls says, half laughing and Lavinia's face goes red. The men return, speaking loudly, oblivious to the turmoil within and seeing Marcus surrounded by all those powerful men, knowing he is important, knowing he is respected and far beyond what you deserve makes you break. A tear falls down your cheek, your heart races and you feel like a caged bird, surrounded by walls. 

“Do not listen to her my Lady, she is only envious of you.” Caecilia wipes your tear away but Marcus is there, having noticed the red in your eyes. He frowns, crouching down to look you in the eye but there are so many people, too many watching and a shame fills your being, that you have embarrassed him, caused a scene and made him possibly regret his choices, regret you.

“My love-” His voice is soft, but Lavinia chimes in, unfettered by her scolding. 

“Congratulations to you Marcus, wife, slave and nutrix all rolled into one.” She smiles, but his eyes turn black with rage. 

“Your anger at my spurning you gives you no right to speak this way, if you think you have embarrassed me, or my wife you are sorely mistaken. The only thing you have done is prove that I was right to deny you. You are not fit to be in the same room as her, let alone look down your nose at her. Come, my Lady, let us retire to our home, and our child.” 

“Will you let him speak to me–”

“Quiet, Lavinia. Seems the rumours I heard of your feelings for General Acacius are true. Come, we will discuss this later. Let us away.” Her husband does not wait for her, instead she is made to run after him, tail tucked between her legs but it does not calm you. The whole scene, the whole spectacle only fills you with doubt. Perhaps he would have been better off with someone high-born, not some slave within his house. A cruel little part of you whispers that you were what was available, he is only with you because you were there.

He says nothing the whole way home, the anger in him is so big, so heavy it threads through your ribs, it squeezes at your heart and all you want to do it make yourself small, hideaway in your old chambers and cry, hold your daughter tightly and forget ever having left her. 

When he guides you inside the house the tears are heavy and hot on your face, flowing freely and he stops you. 

“My–”

“Please forgive me Dominus, I did not mean to embarrass you–” A strangled noise comes out of him, something wounded as you fall to your knees before him. When you look up he too has tears on his face. 

“I shall redeem myself, I swear to you.” You cry, reverting back to that timid little thing you’d been long ago but he falls to his knees right in front of you, holding your face with both of his hands. 

“Stop this!” His voice cracks, and you cover your face with your hands, another misstep, another failure. 

“My love stop this, I beg of you, I am not your Dominus, I am your husband and I love you.” He pulls your hands away, his eyes red with hurt and you cannot help but sob. 

“But I am beneath–”

“You are no such thing! You are everything to me, if anyone is not worthy, if anyone is blessed it is me! You cannot let the jealous barbs of a woman spurned make you question my love for you, you cannot let her and her black heart question your place. You are the Lady of this house, you are the mother of my child and you are the single most important person in my whole world. Please, please do not call me Dominus, I am not that, not to you.” Diana cries, a wail that pierces through the bubble of the two of you clutching at each other on the floor just inside the doorway. 

“Dominus, Domina–is something the matter? Shall I fetch a medicus?” The older woman looks terrified as she tries to soothe the baby, but Marcus waves her concern away.

“We will be retiring to bed early, we require food and drink to be brought and then no interruptions for the rest of the night. I do not care if the Emperor himself knocks on the door, no one is to disturb us.” He stands, gently pulling you up with him. With a shuddering breath, you take Diana into your arms, and retreat within the safety of your chambers. 

He helps you undress, careful to not disturb the child in your arms, wiping away at the errant tears  as he goes along. Once he too is comfortable, you both slip into the bed, Diana asleep between you.

With quiet, with food and drink and the reassuring rhythm of her breathing a different form of shame settles over you. Shame that you regressed, that you thought he would think differently of you because of what Lavinia had said, he had more than proven himself and his feelings since freeing you. 

“Marcus,” You reach over, caressing at the grey scruff on his cheeks “Forgive me, I do not know what came over me.” He sighs, cupping your hand against his face. 

“No, it is I who beg for your forgiveness. I shouldn’t have pushed you to go, not when I could see how hard it was for you to leave her.” He lowers his hand, holding onto Diana’s little foot. “I should have gone on my own, or refused the invitation, I should not have put you in that situation. Your comfort, your happiness–and hers are the only things that matter to me. I must remember that when duty calls.” His hand moves from her foot, to your face, cupping your cheek and sweeping his thumb just under your eye. 

“Forgive me.” He leans over, careful not to jostle the baby and presses a kiss to your mouth. You nod, not trusting your voice. The rest of the night is spent in quiet comfort, basking in and trusting in the love you both have for one another, and the being you created.

--

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[tinylilacbun]

Saving Him

Summary: You save Rafe from being attacked by Groff, getting hurt in the process.

Pairing: daddy!rafe x little!reader

Warnings: age regression (briefly at the end), hand injury, blood, knife, cursing

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The bike comes to a stop near a well and Rafe waits for you to get off first before he slides off as well, taking off his goggles and you do the same.

You cough, your throat burning from the sandy wind and lack of hydration, wiping the sweat from your forehead.

Rafe stands in front of you, placing his hand on your arms he lowers his head to meet your eyes. "You good?"

"Mhm...just thirsty." You rasp and he turns to Groff.

"Get some water." He demands and you all walk over to the well, only to realize there's no water in it and Rafe sighs. "Don't worry I'll get you something soon, yeah?"

You simply nod, going to sit on the edge of the well while Rafe talks to Groff.

"Tell us about this crown. What is it worth? Street value, rough estimate." He crouches down in front of you with a hand on your knee he points a finger at the man you don't trust at all, having had a bad feeling about him the whole time. "This shit better be worth our time. Do you understand?"

"Oh, it's worth a fortune." Groff states. "It's one of the most sought-after relics in the world. Owned by Caesar, hunted by Napoleon, said to grant wishes and make the bearer indomitable."

"Holy shit! Holy shit!" Rafe curses, standing back up straight again to face Groff. "That wasn't even close to answering my question. What is it worth?"

"Hundreds of millions."

Rafe purses his lips, almost scoffing. "You're full of shit."

"Am I?"

"Hundreds of millions." He repeats. "Wait I- what, you got a buyer or something?"

"Yeah, I got a buyer." Groff answers confidentially.

"Where?"

"Ever been to Lisbon?" He smirks and you scoff at the way he talks as if this whole situation isn't bothering him. That he screwed Rafe freaking Cameron over 400k.

Rafe smiles, approaching him. "Look at you, Groff. A'ight. Always got a plan. Well, you screwed me and my girl. And then you lost my money to those mercenaries, a'ight? So now you're gonna be my bitch."

You smirk at that, that's your man right there.

"And if you're lucky, I give you a little taste on the back end, okay?" He continues, leaning a little closer to whisper so you can't hear. "If I let you live."

On Rafe's demand Groff rolls out the map beside you, showing you both how to read it with the strange necklace thingy that shows things you can't see on the map.

Rafe hands it to you so you can take a look as well and you gasp that it actually works, now this is something you'll rub in his face whenever he says magic is not real, your little self beaming at the sight and begging to make a remark. "That's crazy..."

You give it back to Rafe, not listening how Groff talks about how the crown gives power, only lifting your head when you see him pulling something out of his pocket in your peripheral vision.

Suddenly Groff lungs at Rafe and you instantly react before Rafe even gets the chance and push him to the side just as Groff wields the knife.

You yelp when the knife cuts the inside of your hand, taking a few steps back to clutch your wrist, hissing in pain.

Rafe hurriedly gets back on his feet and takes control of the situation, seeing how Groff now balances himself to not fall into the well behind him, giving him a little nudge to make him fall backwards.

Groff's yell has you sighing in relief momentarily, knowing he isn't a bother anymore, seeing how Rafe leans over the edge.

"HA HA! CHECKMATE BITCH!" Rafe screams.

You whimper, screwing your eyes shut tightly and trying to blend out the stinging pain in your hand, starting to sniffle. "Daddy..."

Rafe turns at the sound of you crying for him, rushing over to you. "You idiot. C'mere let me see..."

You yelp when he takes your hand. He examines the injury and your bottom lip quivers at the amount of blood, the scent of copper penetrating your nostrils. "Hurts..."

"I know, I know. Come, we gotta wrap it up." He shushes you, leading you back over to the bike.

He rummages through the sidecar for anything that resembles alcohol, luckily finding a small bottle together with a rag and unscrewing the cap of the bottle he grabs your hand again. "A'ight, this is gonna sting...here bite into my arm yeah?"

He pushes back the sleeve of the jacket and the shirt he's wearing, lifting his arm to your mouth so you can bite into it which he knows you most definitely will.

"Okay, one, two-" he pours the alcohol over your hand without waiting to three, knowing it would hurt a little less when it's unexpected.

You bite into his forearm with all your might, a loud whine escaping your throat, your eyes shut tightly again.

Rafe doesn't even wince, continuing to disinfect the wound thoroughly all the while soothing you with assuring words.

"There we go. All over, you're so brave, I'm proud of you..." He murmurs, pulling his arm away from your mouth he wraps the rag around your hand, tying it securely to prevent any more blood loss.

You're still sniffling, burying your face in his chest. "M'sorry...had to save you, daddy."

Rafe sighs, wrapping his arms around you he kisses the top of your head. He's actually so fucking proud of you for your courage but he's also mad that you got hurt only because he let his guard down for a second.

"Don't be sorry. Everything's okay." He says, pulling back to look down at you. "Let's go get this crown."

Taglist

For everything:

@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse

@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu

For Rafe:

@chiaraanatra @chimindity @erikasurfer

[naturesapphic]

Billie’s friends making fun of little gf reader making her cry but she doesn’t tell Billie until one day she overhears what her friends are saying💖

Bullies

Caregiver!billie eilish x little!fem!reader

Warnings: age regression, hurt/comfort, Billie’s friends being mean, bullying, Billie getting angry but not at reader

Billie’s new friends were coming over today and you were not excited whatsoever. They made fun of you and your age regression which obviously made you sad and cry. Billie didn’t know about any of this happening and you didn’t plan to. Even though they were being mean and making you cry, you didn’t want billie getting mad at you for thinking you were lying to her or maybe she would agree with them and leave you.

You were overthinking every possibility and it all ended badly so you decided to keep your mouth shut and just let them say whatever. You were playing in the living room when they came piling up in the house with Billie laughing behind them. “I’ll get us some snacks and drinks. Do you want anything babygirl?” Billie asked you with a smile. “M-mys juice pwease mama…” you said quietly as you didn’t wanna talk in front of her friends. “Good girl for using your words! I’ll be right back.” She said happily as she disappears into the kitchen, leaving you alone with her friends that were giving you smirks.

“Awwww your mommy gonna give you some juice?” One of them said in a high pitched voice making you whimper under your breath. “Yeah, I bet it will be in a little sippy cup.” Another one chimed in as they all started to laugh and point at you making you turn your head to ignore them. “Hey! Didn’t your precious mommy tell you not to ignore people when they are talking to you, inconsiderate bitch.” One of them snarled at you and you quickly looked up to see them all smirking at you. “I don’t know why Billie is even with you, if I was her, I would spit in your face and leave immediately. You’re such a freak.” One spat out and you felt yourself sobbing in the middle of the living room with them laughing at you.

“Call her a freak again and see if I don’t come over and kick y’all’s asses.” Billie said sternly as she comes into the living room with your sippy in one hand and snacks in the other. “Mommy!” You gasped in surprise but she didn’t look your way just yet, not wanting to scare you with the look on her face. “Get the fuck out of my house right now.” Billie said coldly as she sets down the snacks and your sippy cup on the nearest desk that was near her and she walks over to you. Billie stands in front of you as her old friends all get up, them getting scared as Billie looks like she was gonna kill them. “B-Billie I promise it was all a joke. Right y/n?” One of them said and they gave you eyes that said “you better not fucking rat us out” but you shook your head instead, then they started glaring at you which made billie more pissed.

“You guys are fucking pathetic. You guys know I trusted y’all with this and you guys seemed so understanding about it. Now I can clearly see that y’all are not and you had the balls to make fun of my girlfriend AND make her cry. Leave my house and never fucking come here and contact me again.” Billie spat out and they all rolled their eyes and left the house, leaving you and Billie alone. Billie looked down and saw your tear stained face and she immediately lifted you up in her arms. “It’s okay babygirl. Mama is here now.” Billie said quietly as she holds you close to her as you clung onto her like a koala. “You won’t have to see them ever again.” She reassured you and you nodded your head against her chest. “How long has this been happening sweet girl?” Billie asked you gently and you shyly hid in the crook of her neck.

Billie frowned and rubbed your back “it’s okay baby. I’m not gonna get mad at you. You can trust mama.” She said and you shifted and looked up at her with sad eyes. “E-evers since w-wes tolds dems a-abouts I-it’s…” you stuttered and you felt Billie hold her breath in. “That was a four months ago baby…why didn’t you tell mama?” She gasped quietly and looked at you with sadness in her eyes. “S-scared…Nu wan chu to lose chu friends.” You said and Billie leaned down to give you a long kiss on your forehead. “Babygirl. I don’t wanna be friends with people who make fun of you and make you cry, you understand me?” She said looking in your eyes and you nodded your head slowly. “That’s my good girl. Now. Do you wanna sit and watch some cartoons with mommy?” She said happily and your face beamed up at her. “Wes Pweasie mommy!” You bounced in her arms which caused her to laugh. She carried you over where she placed down your juice and snacks and gave you your sippy. You immediately grabbed it and thanked her as you started sipping on it happily. Billie carried you back into the living room where she sat on the couch, with you still in her arms. She grabbed the remote and turned on one of your favorite movies and you leaned back into her while drinking your juice. As you watched, Billie was looking down at you with pure love and adoration in her eyes. No one was gonna mess with her baby ever again when she’s around.

A/n: hey guys! Glad to be back, gonna try and post more and get out all these requests so I can get prepared for Christmas so I’m excited. Thank you for the request anon and I hope you all enjoyed! Remember to stay hydrated and to rest! Take care of yourselves. I love y’all! :)

[neyafromfrance95]

i know i have talked about this already, but there is not much else to talk about at this point and i still can't get over how much ick s2's finale gives me when it comes to galadriel's storyline.

everyone except for sauron invalidated galadriel's trauma and treated her like a burden in s1, then they shamed and humiliated her in s2. and it all could have had a good narrative reason... if it hadn't led to a really sexist conclusion.

the whole narrative of the good guy who slut-shamed her "fixing" her, resulting in her putting down the sword and putting on the dress instead? yikes...

i love galadriel's characterization in trop. she is a perfect blend of feminine + masculine. saying this could get me crucified but i think she is much more queer-coded than sauron is; in a way that i can see her being nonbinary-coded. she is gender-nonconforming! she is abrasive and proud and a leader!

and this makes the insinuation of that ending all the more painful - from being this authentic, complex character to being... a tradwife to be.

she did not actually turn into a tradwife ofc. now that would be a real blasphemy against tolkien, lol. as galadriel was always a leader first and foremost, never defined as a wife/mother. but narratively, it felt like that was what happened.

some people will say that it's her transformation, that she must learn not to rely on her sword, yada yada. and sure, it can be a character development. BUT! in what direction? they have to be very careful with this direction if they don't want it to come off as a regressive and bio-essentialist "embrace your inner divine feminine, woman" conservative propaganda. it can be done if they lean into "the witch galadriel" arc.

and man, it's somewhat a similar case to killing eve. one reviewer of ke's finale said that women live their lives told to sit still, be accommodating, be self-sacrificial, and there comes a point in their lives where they have to decide if they are going to conform to all that even if it's inauthentic to who they are. villanelle recognized eve's darkness (which really was her authentic self) and wanted to nourish it. so the framing of eve "surviving" villanelle and being cleansed of her "darkness" felt wrong to many.

in many ways, that's how trop s2 finale felt to me. it's so interesting how haladriel's dynamic turned out subtextually. sauron saw galadriel's trauma, her darkness and yet he alone saw galadriel's greatness in her authenticity, and offered her authority - something that all others stripped her off of. yes, he stabbed her (and villanelle shot eve, btw), but told her that he would make her into an overlord of the universe at the same time, lmao.

worst of all, it doesn't make sense legendarium wise - galadriel is going to continue being a leader; yeah, she is not going to be as abrasive, but she will grow into a stone cold bitch (affectionate) instead; she is going to have a push-pull dynamic with sauron till he evaporates. so what was all that supposed to mean? i do believe they catered to the whiny "make galadriel tradwife again" crowd, and maybe inserted a mormon propaganda where it's the most misogynistic in its' message.

anyways, i still have my fingers crossed that they redeem the story direction in s3 by dismissing the undertones of s2 finale. or else it would really leave a sour taste in my mouth.

[kaydens-agere]

🦄Wade W. Wilson/Deadpool Agere Headcanons and Moodboard Pt 1⚔️

*just a note, I started writing these before Deadpool 3 came out, so all of these are from the first 2 movies, I'll do updated DP3 ones at some point ^^

GENERAL INFO -Has always had a regressed headspace of some form (he had a shitty childhood so it checks out)

-His age range is all over the place, so he doesn't really have a specific range. He's around 7 or under most of the time, but can regress into his teenaged years.

-Also a pet regressor, he regresses to a puppy and a unicorn (duh).

-Started regressing a lot more after he gained his superpowers. The process was super traumatic for him, so his brain needed to regress more often to compensate.

-Still loves hanging out at Sister Marget's, Weasel has tried to kick him out many times, but he refuses to leave (mostly so Wade can get on his nerves, he likes doing that regardless). Most bar visitors know about him being a regressor and they're all chill with it (and even if some aren't, they don't say a word because they know that Wade and his friends can and will fuck them up). Weasel will give him some colouring in to do, but he likes to do self portraits of him flipping people off (charming /sarc).

-Refuses to let go of his unicorn. It was a big comfort item for him when he was actually a child. It brings him comfort when he's big, but it really comes to the surface when he's little.

-He somehow swears even more when he's little, he thinks its funny when the adults laugh or give him a look of shock. Even while he's little, he loves getting attention.

-Loves to host tea parties with his caregivers, he'll tell them all the gossip that's going on between his plushies. "Yeah! Rainbow Dash is being a really big bitch and-" "Wade!"

-He's literally a pretty princess. He has one of those mini princess themed vanities that he does his make-up at, and sometimes he'll do other peoples makeup (sometimes willingly, but he forces them most of the time). He also has a lot of princess dresses and loves to play dress up.

FRIENDS, FAMILY, ETC -Very sweet around Vanessa. He puts up a tough facade around others when he's small to make them laugh, but that disappears around her (not entirely though, he's still Wade). He loves to cuddle up with her. She was the second person he ever told (after Weasel) and she was incredibly accomodating and accepting. She was always sweet and caring towards him, but knew when to put her foot down if she needed to. She was literally Wade's perfect caregiver.

-After Vanessa died, he pushed it off as much as he could. It was too painful to be small without her. He finally started regressing again after he got comfortable with his new family. (this one is inspired by @genderfluideadpool)

-Weasel was the first person he told about his little space. He didn't understand it whatsoever at first, but after a lot of talks from Wade and witnessing it enough, he finally understood. He may tease him for it a bit, but it's all in good fun and Wade doesn't mind because he knows that Weasel accepts him. He doesn't have a lot of time to take care of Wade properly, but he tries his best when he can. If little Wade is sitting up at the bar, he'll serve him a giant glass of strawberry milk while he colours. They still have their playful banter, but it's altered depending on how old Wade is.

-Dopinder absolutely adores little Wade and deep down he's extremely happy and grateful and he felt comfortable enough to tell him about it. If he's taking him somewhere, he'll play things like 'I Spy' to keep him entertained. In headspace, he likes to call him "Tiny Pool" and "Baby Pool", he loves seeing the gentle blush that forms across Wade's cheeks when he calls him those.

-Colossus has known about Wade's little space for a long time. Although they haven't always got along, he tries to be there for little Wade when he needs to. He tries to make sure that he's fed and hydrated sufficiently, and in Wade's words, he can give a mean piggyback.

-Although Negasonic can be rude and sarcastic to Wade at times, she tries to be nice to him when he's little, she understands that he's more sensitive and vulnerable and knows that being rude to someone in the mindset of a traumatised child is crossing the line. She's not the most responsible though, she loves to help him plan pranks to play on the other X-Men, which they find amusing (even Colossus, who struggles to hide his smile as he scolds them)

-Yukio is extremely sweet and gentle to Wade when he's little. She's good at calming him down if he's extremely overwhelmed or upset. She'll do some breathing exercises with him and talks to him in a very soft voice. It reminds him a lot of Vanessa, and while it was painful to hear at first, he eventually got used to it and finds it very comforting. She's usually the first one to join him when he colours (in case you couldn't tell, he loves colouring in)

-Domino found it very endearing. She's extremely educated on the topic and will gladly beat someone up if anyone treats Wade's little side badly. Like Yukio, she likes to play games. But she plays the more active ones like tag and hide and seek. She's good at getting all of Wade's energy out, which comes in handy when it's bedtime and he's running up and down the halls screaming.

-Much like Weasel, Cable didn't understand it at first, but after a lot of talks from Wade and the team, he accepted and understood it. He always goes soft around little Wade, he likes to carry him around and say silly things to make him laugh (Negasonic has a photo of this as blackmail because he refuses to show his soft side around anyone)

-Russell kinda poked fun at him at first, but after a very, very long talk, bordering on lecture, from Colossus, he apologised to Wade and reassured him that he won't judge him anymore. He's kinda awkward when Wade is on the smaller side, he's not exactly sure how to interact with little kids, but when Wade's in a teen mindset? You best believe they're running around the mansion, stirring shit up constantly.

I definitely needa do a part 2 for these, I have so many headcanons for him floating around in my brain

Image Creds/Where I found them ❤️🖤❤️ ❤️🖤❤️ ❤️🖤❤️ ❤️🖤❤️ ❤️🖤❤️ ❤️🖤❤️ ❤️🖤❤️ ❤️🖤❤️ ❤️🖤❤️

[agerefandomstuff]

little soldier boy???

I think he'd be small but also have bigger ages? But if you could write about him being a small guy it be much appreciated!

Soldier Baby - Is it Him or the Drugs?

Content warning: not kids’ appropriate media. and has not been censored to be even though it involves sfw age regression.

(if you’ve watched The Boys you have an idea of what to expect from the characters’ vocab and personalities.)

Word count: 3175

Tags/warnings: Regressor Soldier Boy - Ben, Caregiver Billy Butcher, Hughie Campbell, poor hughie’s always bullied, Soldier Boy and Butcher accurate cursing and sexual jokes, general vulgarity, Ben being borderline racist/sexist/homophobic/ OUTDATED THINKING except I didn’t actually wanna make it as bad as he actually can be and I also don’t know how to be, anxiety, mentions of drugs and alcohol, mentions of violence, threats, insults, French fries dipped in frosties, if that’s something that disturbs you idk, my American attempt at writing a British man played by a Kiwi man, first time regressing, confusion, panic, misunderstanding, I don’t know, Ben commenting bad things about The Little Mermaid, Butcher being dumb, Butcher taking charge and being a dad, not beta read. Never beta read. I don’t know who I would be if it was beta read.

Perhaps it was because he had taken too much. Or more likely Butcher gave him something laced since his body filtered out most drugs within minutes and he'd been feeling this way since he’d started yawning a couple hours earlier. His yawns started while watching dumb new century movies, one moment he was bitching to Hughie about how his generation relied too heavily on special effects instead of getting creative (like back in his day) the next he was getting asked when the last time he slept was. As if he was some toddler and not a grown fucking man who can occasionally yawn if he wants to damn it! Hughie might’ve been his “babysitter,” as Butcher titled it, when they were alone but he wasn’t a fuckin child for him to fuss over like some sniveling house wife.

“I’ve stayed awake for over a month before partying, kicking ass, and slinging pussy all while doing my damn job as a hero. Then I was asleep for decades because of Russian scum. This is nothing.” He growled at Hughie, the poor boy shaking like one of those fuckin rat dogs he use to see rich women carrying around at those mind numbing Vought galas. “I am not tired. And you'd be wise to stop assuming I was.”

Although if Hughie hadn't said something about it he probably would've put more thought into it. because… beyond just yawning he was feeling… uncharacteristically spacey, even though he really hadn't been awake long enough to excuse that. He hadn't been here for more than a week, right? Doesn't matter now. He was stubborn and would purposely not give it any more thought because Hughie was a cunt.

...that was until his eighth yawn of the day. It was like he was yawning all the time. He couldn't stop himself and at this point he wasn't even watching the movie let alone making his usual commentary. His mind was just focusing on fighting the yawns and the odd feeling in his mind. He couldn't remember a time he felt so unfocused like this. Even in his most fucked up state at the first Herogasm party he threw, he didnt feel this way.

It had gotten to the point that even Butcher had noticed once he had come back from his food run. However Butcher’s attention on him only fed into Ben’s theory that he’d been slipped something and they were just waiting for him to go down so they could do something to him. Maybe the food he’d brought just had more of whatever supe roofie was inside and they would use it to get a second dose in so they could drag him back to the Russians to be tortured again. Maybe they were working with the evil sons of bitches to turn him into this perfect weapon they wanted and this had all been a ruse to gain his trust.

“The fuck you lookin at?” He snapped out at Butcher but the man only raised his hands in surrender, not even putting up an argument which almost made him feel bad since he… had respect for the guy. He was a badass leader that did–albeit unintentionally–released him from his permanent cyro torture. Even if he was suspicious of him right now… He somewhat owed the man.

Also he was placating him with his favorite things. Drugs, trashy food, his own movies. Only things that would make his time better would be to not be spending it in this shithole hotel unless it was with a woman.

Or a few women.

Aged-like-wine women.

Maybe he was overreacting to this spacey-feeling bullshit.

He probably just needed to do a couple lines to get rid of the yawns and he would be good as new.

“Didn’t say nothin, mate. Calm yer pretty little ticker down.” Butcher responded, glancing down at his chest in warning, reminding them all what would happen if he didn’t get over whatever he was getting so defensive about. “Take some pills, take a nap fer all I care. Whatever keeps this buildin from shambles and our goals within sight.”

The nap line was really all he heard and it was definitely the worst thing to say. The bottle in his hand shattered between his fingers like it was nothing more than a breakaway and Hughie’s face drained of color in time with the beer that dripped down his arm.

Ben stood up his finger pointing at Butcher in a real warning, “Whatever the fuck you think you accomplished–whatever shit you roofied me with–it’s best you undo it right now before I turn your queer side piece into– into…” he couldnt even think of a clever threat. It's like his brain was completely malfunctioning leaving him to just angrily settle for a more embarrassingly simple correction. “Before I fucking kill him.”

The Brit raised his eyebrow as he had to take a second to actually will his mouth to hold back a sarcastic comment about the tongue trip, shockingly actually valuing their lives for once since he was so close to getting Homelander with Soldier Boy in his pocket. “A’right.. hold on now. I ain't got a clue whatcha accusing me of but we ‘aven't done it.” he closed his laptop softly, never taking his eyes off Ben the same way he would never take his eyes off a wild horse. “Why d’ya fink we roofied ya? Beyond the actual roofies yew requested, that is?”

His reaction made Ben second guess his theory again. He never second guessed himself like this. Even when he was wrong. And he sure as shit didn't share his feelings. Feelings were for pussies like Hughie. You didn't have feelings in war or at Vought. Yet…. he felt oddly compelled to answer Butcher’s question honestly and without more threats. He couldn't rationalize this strange compulsion other than maybe it was the way Butcher talked to him or managed to not be afraid of him. Or maybe it was because he was potentially slipped something–he still hadn’t ruled it out!

“I feel… wrong. My head ain't clear but everything I’ve taken should’ve worn off by now.” His hand dipped in the air like a physical indicator of his current lowering confidence and defenses which Butcher–in true Billy Butcher fashion–promptly took a shit on.

“Sounds like someone’s backed up. How boutcha go have a wank in the shower while we plug our ears and pretend we hadn’t noticed yer on edge?” Ben scoffed at the suggestion, his defenses rising back up. Butcher didn't get it. He didnt have blue balls, he had a fucked up head!

“No, you fuckin foreign– guy! ” this was really getting pathetic.. “I-it’s like… like–”

“Like PTSD…?” Hughie nervously piped up from where he was watching, still frozen to the couch. The other two men looked over at him and Ben opened his mouth to shut him down but hesitated. While he was actually kind of glad the little runt was taking him more seriously than Butcher had.. he also didn’t have an answer. He wanted to say no, I've seen shell shock, idiot. I don't have it! He wasn't really sure this time because he really didn't feel normal which was only making him feel more… antsy.

Picking up on his discomfort and hesitation, Butcher turned back towards Ben and watched him for a second, actually deciding to have a good look at him beyond his front of anger. He was tense but his body language was severely lacking its usual arrogant confidence. Like he wasn't comfortable within his own space right now. Once Butcher really looked, even his face, which normally lacked any expression beyond irritation, was practically screaming; I don’t know what’s going on! Someone fix it!

He’d seen that look more times than he could count in his life with his line of work but something about it reminded him more of a little kid than an adult in the middle of a PTSD episode. The look was similar to the one that made him call Hughie “kid” regardless of him being a full adult and insisting on it all the time.

He could see something in Ben right now that activated the part of his brain that had always taken care of Lenny as a kid.

The softer part of him that insisted he help the poor sod’s silent beg for help.

“Oi..kay, kid.” Butcher softened the gruffness in his tone and stood up from his seat at the table, snagging a bag of greasy fries and the frostie he had yet to dig into. “Let's get on then, yeah?” He slung an arm around Ben’s shoulder and led him back to the hotel bed in front of the TV he had long set up shop on.

Although still confused, Ben didn’t stop him. Instead following on autopilot while his mind still reeled with thought until his knees bumped against the mattress.

“No– I'm not tired. I told you I'm not tired–” had he told Butcher that or had he only yelled at Hughie today? “I’m not taking a damn nap–!” christ, he sounded like a whining child! Sleeping wouldn’t kill him for fuck’s sake! If the Russians hadn't figured that out after this many years surely they never would– unless they did. He didn't want to be tortured more– how long would it be before his mind broke for good? Before he died?

“No, y’ain’t so hush and stop yer worrying. Were jus’ gonna sit and eat the food I boughtcha before my money goes ta waste.” Ben looked surprised to have been effectively told to shut up and do what he's told but what he was most shocked about was the fact he didn't immediately get the desire to punch the shit out of him for having the audacity to do so. He just felt… odd. Like there were butterflies tying uncomfortable knots in his stomach. Like… it was almost nice to have a direction to go into so his thoughts would pause.

“Come on. Don’t make me wait. Fries ain’t neva last too long outside the frya.” Butcher pat his lower back, almost like he was a little kid getting encouraged forward and he listened. He crawled up onto the bed and sat in his spot looking at him with big eyes, clearly at a loss with the situation. He felt like he didn't know himself. This was a part of him he’d never experienced and he didn't know what to do, yet Butcher… seemed as at ease as ever. Like he’d dealt with a hundred men with nukes in their chests yelling at him.

Though he knew him longer than Ben did, even all Hughie could do was watch with the same odd mixture of shock and amazement when Butcher sat down beside the supe, tossed the fries between them, then changed the channel. No one had touched the remote since Ben had figured it out just enough to channel surf onto his own films. He had guarded that thing like a kid who found a new toy he didn't want to share.

“I.. was watching that.” Ben struggled to get out in a mumble that had never left his lips before.

“Won't spoil the ending for ya then, just say it ain't worth more than a prostitute that's got the clap.” Butcher casually informed him while he looked through the menu. The hotel, although shitty in every other aspect, actually had a Vought+ subscription, which begrudgingly had a pretty good selection. “Hughie, be a good lad for me an name a tolerable animation that aint Disney.”

“The Little Mer…maid..?” Hughie stuttered out, his brain automatically picking the last Disney movie he’d watched with him, too scared to really absorb the question.

“That’s Disney, Champ. Lookin fer somethin on Vought+”

“Oh. Right. Um..” He racked his brain for a moment trying not to mess this up and get his butt chewed by Soldier Boy later for choosing a movie he would hate sitting through. But the more he thought about everything the grumpy old man complained about when they were alone the less movies he could think of. In fact all he could think of was Ariel. Ariel.. Ariel, save me. Oh wait. “Isn't… isn't there a Disney princess section on Vought+ now?”

“Hn.. There is. Good thinkin.” Butcher cleared his throat a bit as he clicked on the movie then tossed the remote to reach for a fry, not paying attention to the way Ben was currently staring at him like he was an alien. “Redheaded broad it is.”

“Disney.. prin…cess? Like… the films for.. little brats..?” Ben slowly asked out, his voice not really feeling like his own with how insecure and… small it sounded. This all felt like a drug fueled dream. A really weird one, not one of the fun ones. Maybe he’d already fallen asleep and was back in some cyro-coma.

“Mmhm. Hughie likes em. Usually he leans more towards that lil boffin Belle over the glorified sushi princess but–”

“I like Ariel!” Hughie instantly defended but his cheeks went pink as he realized he meant to defend himself in a different way. Like one that might keep his reputation intact or keep himself from being relentlessly bullied by resident tough man, Soldier Boy. “I-I mean–” He gave Butcher an embarrassed, desperate look as he hissed out between his teeth a clear plea. “Butcher..! Come on..!”

Ben’s head swiveled between Hughie and Butcher feeling like he was missing out on something. He felt like that a lot recently since the world was so much different than it was back when he was last in it but this felt like he was out of the loop on something he should know.

“Why… why does Hughie like–” Before he could even finish his question, Butcher had slipped an ice cream dipped fry in his mouth, surprising him further. His reaction time was lacking, he hadn't even seen the man’s hand until it was too late. His senses were dulled. Could only imagine the foul shit his father would say if he saw him now.

“Film’s startin, kid, eat yer food.” Butcher spooned a mouthful of frostie into his own mouth with the grace expected of a grown man whose shirt was stained as much as it was and Ben watched him as he slowly followed instructions and chewed what had been given to him. His gaze flicked over to Hughie still trying to figure out what was going on but all Hughie was telling him was that he’d rather be swallowed alive by the couch than make eye contact with him.

The sound of water splashing alongside loud music on the tv stole his attention away from his less than stellar detective work and he watched for a few seconds as sailors began to sing. His brows furrowed and he turned to Butcher to protest and ask again about why the hell grown men would watch cartoons like this but the moment his mouth opened he was spoon fed some frostie. And while it was more careful than how the Brit had fed himself the action was aggravating. Ben looked at the Brit with an unhappy glare that probably looked more harmless than his usual happy expression if the rest of him looked as pathetic as he felt. But when he was given no attention from it he finally turned away to begrudgingly watch the stupid movie they insisted on making him watch instead of dealing with his problems.

Twenty minutes was all it took for Ben to be fully enraptured, his thought process having melted away with the colorful fish on the screen without his knowledge. Butcher had kept a casual eye on him after he’d realized he was dropping, mildly worried that the loose cannon might start to get anxious again if he broke out of his distraction. It was a little rockier at the start of the movie when he was still incredibly uneasy with the situation and unhappy with having been fed twice without permission; however Butcher was stupid and confident. An that’s what got ‘im this far in life, right?

So sue him if he let himself feel a bit smug as Ben obliviously settled into this new headspace, watching the movie as if it were the most interesting thing he’d ever witnessed. The only time he occasionally turned away from the screen was for the brief moment it would take to be spoon fed another bite being offered. Nothin beat the tried and true combination of an age regression classic an comfort food t’keep someone perfectly satiated in a headspace, eh?

Kid would barely wait to swallow before pointing at the screen to yell something about it because he was trying so hard to listen after having been told “ta swallow ‘is food ‘fore speakin,” but still NEEDED to give his commentary on everything since at his core he was still Ben. He might be acting younger but he was still who he was for better or for worse. And that included movie commentary.

Ben: “That crab is such an ass-munch! I mean look at him! He’s practically makin out with King Trident’s butt.”

Butcher: “His name’s Sebastian, you’ll like him more later on, bud.”

Ben: “I don’t like commies.”

Butcher: “Now why’dja go an call the poor ol bastard that?”

Ben: “He’s red.”

Butcher: “That don’t mean… he’s a crab, mate.”

Ben: “And? Crabs can be commies.”

Hughie: “That’s weirdly the most inclusive thing I’ve heard you say.”

—

Ben: “Hell yeah King Trident!”

Hughie: “You can't cheer for him, he just destroyed his daughter’s most prized collection!”

Ben: “Uh yeah. She didn't do what he said so she earned it. And she was probably kissin on that statue like a weirdo. Anyway he looked cool doing it.”

Butcher: “An how’dja know she was doin that?”

Ben: “I dunno.”

Hughie: “Ariel wouldn't kiss a statue!”

Ben: “Shut up, Hughie, you don't know that!”

Hughie: “Yes, I do! I’ve watched this movie more than you!”

Butcher: “Boys.”

Hughie: “Sorry..”

Ben: “Well I’m not sorry.”

Once the junk food was gone, Ben started his yawns again but Butcher counted himself lucky that his anxiety didn't notice them this time since that was the only thing he could guess set him off earlier. That or he just took too much while he was gone and got paranoid. Supe was a nutcase anyhow and Butcher probably trusted him even less than Hughie did.

Near the end of the movie though was when the brick of a man made himself comfortable against Butcher’s side and without making it a big deal, the infamous bloke wrapped his arm around his shoulder to pull him in tight. He was softer than he looked. Maybe that level of comfort he was providing was why Ben’s aggressive commentary died away before he could give a final scathing review and instead slipped asleep the moment the next movie started. But Ben would certainly deny that to anyone that brought it up. Including his own thoughts. He’d rather blame those supe-special roofies he never confirmed.

[gojuo]

this show went from aemond killing luke (who took out his eye) to purposely killing his brother, because of some drunken joke.

Aemond embarrassed him at the council by also speaking Valyrian fluently and Egg could barely complete a sentence, they were even!

kill a sibling and and not feeling the slightest bit of guilt He takes aegon's dagger and walks away casually as if it wasn't his full brother dying there) about it is something only the worst of the worst would do such as gregor clegane, euron greyjoy and ramsay bolton. it's sick..nothing like stannis and maekar who killed their brothers but had no happiness about it

even daemon targ didn't dare try to kill viserys wtf

we are doomed. we expected complexity between aegond and we received and we received an attempt at fratricide and regicide 😭

It's just not even remotely an interesting or compelling or sympathetic character arc or motivation to me, sorry. I didn't care for Aemond in the book, I loved him in the show out of spite, now I'm back to not caring about him bc this is just not the type of character whose development, whether it be a progression or a regression, I enjoy following. My bridges are burned 😬

Side note maybe but I've noticed how it's Daemon that's getting the sympathetic portrayal concerning his family over his narrative foil Aemond, which, in my opinion, is another aspect of the Greens Condal is taking away and giving to the Blacks that I've been harping on about in posts and tags everywhere lately.

The greatest of his rivals was Daemon Targaryen, the king’s ambitious, impetuous, moody younger brother.

Fire and Blood, p. 354.

As King Viserys had no living son, Daemon regarded himself as the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, and coveted the title Prince of Dragonstone, which His Grace refused to grant him…but by the end of year 105 AC, he was known to his friends as the Prince of the City and to the smallfolk as Lord Flea Bottom. Though the king did not wish Daemon to succeed him, he remained fond of his younger brother, and was quick to forgive his many offenses.

Fire and Blood, p. 355

Thus did matters stand in King’s Landing late in the year 105 AC, when Queen Aemma was brought to bed in Maegor’s Holdfast and died whilst giving birth to the son that Viserys Targaryen had desired for so long. The boy (named Baelon, after the king’s father) survived her only by a day, leaving king and court bereft... save perhaps for Prince Daemon, who was observed in a brothel on the Street of Silk, making drunken japes with his highborn cronies about the “heir for a day.” When word of this got back to the king (legend says that it was the whore sitting in Daemon’s lap who informed on him, but evidence suggests it was actually one of his drinking companions, a captain in the gold cloaks eager for advancement), Viserys became livid. His Grace had finally had a surfeit of his ungrateful brother and his ambitions.

Fire and Blood, p. 359.

Prince Daemon was not amongst them, however. Furious at the king's decree [naming Rhaenyra heir], the prince quit King's Landing, resigning from the City Watch. He went first to Dragonstone, taking his paramour Mysaria with him upon the back of his dragon Caraxes, the lean red beast the smallfolk called the Blood Wyrm. There he remained for half a year, during which time he got Mysaria with child. When he learned that his concubine was pregnant, Prince Daemon presented her with a dragon's egg, but in this he again went too far and woke his brother's wroth. King Viserys commanded him to return the egg, send his whore away, and return to his lawful wife, or else be attained as a traitor. The prince obeyed, though with ill grace, dispatching Mysaria (eggless) back to Lys, whilst he himself flew to Runestone in the Vale and the unwelcome company of his "bronze bitch." But Mysaria lost her child during a storm on the narrow sea. When word reached Prince Daemon he spoke no syllable of grief, but his heart hardened against the king, his brother. Thereafter he spoke of King Viserys only with disdain, and began to brood day and night on the succession.

Fire and Blood, p. 360.

After Mysaria lost her unborn child, Daemon hated Viserys. He had no love for his brother anymore and began his grooming of an 8-year-old Rhaenyra to get closer to what his biggest wish in life was: the Iron Throne.

Notice how this is not him in the show but Aemond now? The bullying + brothel plotline to make him hate Aegon is not there in the book. In contrast, Aegon, Aemond and Daeron together actually hated the Strong bastards and none of them, especially not Aegon, were friends.

The sins of the fathers are oft visited on the sons, wise men have said; and so it is for the sins of mothers as well. The enmity between Queen Alicent and Princess Rhaenyra was passed on to their sons, and the queen’s three boys, the Princes Aegon, Aemond, and Daeron, grew to be bitter rivals of their Velaryon nephews, resentful of them for having stolen what they regarded as their birthright: the Iron Throne itself. Though all six boys attended the same feasts, balls, and revels, and sometimes trained together in the yard under the same master-at-arms and studied under the same maesters, this enforced closeness only served to feed their mutual mislike, rather than binding them together as brothers.

Fire and Blood, p. 377-378.

It was Viserys actually who hurt Aemond over being dragonless, NOT Aegon.

Only the middle son, Prince Aemond, remained dragonless, but His Grace had hopes of rectifying that, and had put forward the notion that perhaps the court might sojourn at Dragonstone after the funeral. A wealth of dragon’s eggs could be found beneath the Dragonmont, and several young hatchlings as well. Prince Aemond could have his choice, “if the lad is bold enough.” Even at ten, Aemond Targaryen did not lack for boldness. The king’s gibe stung, and he resolved not to wait for Dragonstone.

Fire and Blood, p. 380.

Aemond in the book was also never characterized as lusting after the throne like Daemon was. He's always been presented as a staunch supporter of Aegon's birthright.

One-eyed Prince Aemond, nineteen, was found in the armory, donning plate and mail for his morning practice in the castle yard. “Is Aegon king?” he asked Ser Willis Fell, “or must we kneel and kiss the old whore’s cunny?”

Fire and Blood, p. 397.

The greatest danger was deemed to be Storm’s End, for House Baratheon had always been staunch in support of the claims of Princess Rhaenys and her children. Though old Lord Boremund had died, his son Borros was even more belligerent than his father, and the lesser storm lords would surely follow wherever he led. “Then we must see that he leads them to our king,” Queen Alicent declared. Whereupon she sent for her second son. Thus it was not a raven who took flight for Storm’s End that day, but Vhagar, oldest and largest of the dragons of Westeros. On her back rode Prince Aemond Targaryen, with a sapphire in the place of his missing eye. “Your purpose is to win the hand of one of Lord Baratheon’s daughters,” his grandsire Ser Otto told him, before he flew. “Any of the four will do. Woo her and wed her, and Lord Borros will deliver the stormlands for your brother. Fail—” “I will not fail,” Prince Aemond blustered. “Aegon will have Storm’s End, and I will have this girl.”

Fire and Blood, p. 400.

“You must rule the realm now, until your brother is strong enough to take the crown again,” the King’s Hand told Prince Aemond. Nor did Ser Criston need to say it twice, writes Eustace. And so one-eyed Aemond the Kinslayer took up the iron-and-ruby crown of Aegon the Conqueror. “It looks better on me than it ever did on him,” the prince proclaimed. Yet Aemond did not assume the style of king, but named himself only Protector of the Realm and Prince Regent.

Fire and Blood, p. 437.

I know people like using this passage as evidence that Aemond wanted the crown, but this is the only sentence that insinuates such a thought in the entirety of F&B, and it then also gets shots down immediately in the next sentence after. People can yap about how Aemond knows he can’t do or say anything as long as Maelor is alive, but when this one sentence—which gets rebuked pronto anyway—is the only evidence you have for that headcanon vs. Daemon who in the text explicitly and repeatedly is said to want to throne and hate his brother, then it’s just not a supported notion in the text or subtext at all.

That “‘Tis I the younger brother who studies philosophy, history and swords etc. etc.” is also nowhere in the book. This second son complex is just a show invention that used to be Daemon’s in the book now given to Aemond in the show, because of course Condal wants Daemon to be far more sympathetic in the eyes of the audience through exploring his love and guilt towards his brother and Rhaenyra with the Harrenhal hallucinations, rather than Aemond, whose actions snowballed into Blood and Cheese and who has a far better character arc lying in wait if that love and guilt he feels towards his brother post-B&C had actually been his.

Show!Aemond is such a wasted character, really. They had so much potential in him becoming an unhinged, murderous psycho falling into impatiency (reason for leaving KL and Cole unprotected) and mania (reason for carpetbombing the Riverlands) because of the immeasurable guilt he feels for what his actions have caused his family (Kinslaying!! The greatest sin in Westeros!!! Blood and Cheese!! ASOIAF’s most atrocious event that kinda happened because of him a little bit!!!)... And yes, it’s not a justification but it’s a reason for why he would do such monstrous things in the book because that’s just how a young, 19-year-old, emotionally volatile, new-to-the-horrors-of-war Targaryen prince with access to nukes would act like once he’s wholly consumed by the guilt of Blood and Cheese and war and the failure at Rook’s Rest and his brother’s disability therefore he’d become unable to face his family anymore culminating in what’s basically his suicide above the God’s Eye... His obsession with facing Daemon could have been because he feels like he has to redeem himself towards his brother for kinda being the cause of Jaehaerys’ death... but Ryan Condal does not want the viewer’s focus to stay on Blood and Cheese or else that would mean negative feelings towards Daemon and Rhaenyra are validated, and also the Greens can’t love each other and care about each other or how else can Condal portray them as fuckups unworthy of positivity so that the viewer does not get attached to them or root for them? Blood and Cheese and Jaehaerys have practically been forgotten by the Greens and the show by now. Nobody cares anymore! How many times has anyone even said his name? Uggghhhhh.

That love and loyalty the Greens feel for each other was, of course, all propaganda 🙄 Daemon in the book got his somewhat redemption through saving Nettles at the cost of betraying Rhaenyra, so fuck Condal for switching him and Aemond around and fuck Condal for cutting Nettles in order to whitewash Rhaenyra some more. And then stealing the love and loyalty the Greens had to the family and giving it to the Blacks. Ugh.

[physalian]

How to Keep your Insecure Character from Becoming a “Nice Guy”

Or Nice Girl

The very last book I will have beta’d for the foreseeable future had a lot going for it, but one trait I absolutely despise in fictional characters is insecurity that makes it everybody else’s problem (I mean I hate it in people, too). By this I mean, the girlfriend who cannot tolerate her boyfriend having other friends who are girls, and whining to him about it. The partner who still wonders if their lover loves them, with zero evidence to the contrary, constantly forcing a tiring debate to sate these unfounded claims.

The thing is. Real people are like this.

But the other thing is: Fiction is meant to entertain.

It’s never the insecurity that I have issue with (I am not immune to it myself) it’s the impact that insecurity has on the story. If this protagonist had quietly kept it to herself but allowed the rest of the story to move forward, and dealt with it, if not alone, but in some progressive or even regressive manner, just not stagnant, it might’ve been okay.

So the scene that would have had me DNF immediately if this had been an organic read was these two adult middle-aged characters. Stalker plotline. The boyfriend is a has-been. The girlfriend, protagonist, has already had many a bout of insecure nonsense (oh he thinks I’m ugly as he’s railing me against my dresser) but the breaking point is when she’s sent an explicit photo of him when he was younger, mid-sex with some model.

And this lady is absolutely crushed. The revelation that… this is a person who has had sex before… is somehow shocking. Like, this character seemed to desire a 50-year-old virgin who is also an adonis. The whole time I’m reading her only care about her own feelings, when I’m thinking “do you not give a single fuck about how your boyfriend feels seeing himself so exposed, a picture floating around on the internet at anyone’s mercy? How he feels to be reminded of this moment and manipulated, too?”

I’m sure I’m in the vast minority who cannot stand these types of characters, but I would have quit the book right then and there. The book was also a who-dun-it, meaning any character could be a suspect, including the boyfriend. So we’re sitting here with multiple red herrings while the protagonist ignores all of them to whine about how the man’s unbridled and unflinching love and adoration for her just isn’t enough.

Bitch then be single if you can’t handle the knowledge that your 50-year-old celebrity boyfriend got around when he was younger. You knew what you were getting into. Which was my sticking point—it wasn’t like this was a shocking twist reveal. She knew from the moment they met that he was a bit of a player. It would be wholly different if he’d led her to believe that he’s some devout celibate saving himself for her.

Is this entertaining to other people? It’s not to me.

Separating it from the actual insecurity for a second: When you force your character to go around in circles in their arc and development, no matter what that arc and development is, you have stagnated the plot and each time they meet the same pitfall, they make the exact same choices that keep them in this loop.

None of this insecurity subplot amounted to anything. She eventually got over it after one arbitrary conversation but she didn’t change as a person, it didn’t do anything for the story, it was just there, probably an outlet for the author to exercise her own demons.

But this is a story and I am not entertained and your author insert is subject to the same scrutiny as everyone else.

So.

What *I think* are compelling ways to write insecure characters. Because I wrote one. My protagonist in ENNS.

You can and should absolutely write for yourself. Just always remember that if you only write for yourself, you can’t expect everyone else to like it, and you can’t get mad when they don’t. They are not you and they don’t have your tastes.

Have the insecurity be part of their arc with movement, either forward or backward, so they don’t become a static and boring character

Give them some evidence, any evidence, to support this insecurity. Maybe their love interest really does have an issue with some physical trait. Or in the past they really have been bullied or mocked for it. Anything so that this character’s fears have merit and can become tragic and relatable instead of unfounded and annoying.

Have this character take actions to augment this insecurity or cover it up, so that they’re not going “ugh I’m so ugly… but I’m not doing anything about it it’s just here”. Like wearing oversized clothes, keeping their hair in their face, speaking softly or not smiling with teeth—whatever it is, give them some agency in this fear. This is still a character trait and internal conflict, therefore it needs some actual conflict. Inaction is unappealing.

Balance out the negativity with something more compelling. They might be insecure but they’re really skilled at this one thing, or they’re really funny or kind or smart, so the audience has something else to root for instead of just a character who is negative and self-deprecating for the entire story.

Show that though experience proves this insecurity garnered them mistreatment, this current person they’re trying to impress really doesn’t care one bit about it, and don’t make it the other character’s problem. You can still have the protagonist wary and skeptical that the comments haven’t started, but let them do so quietly instead of cornering the friend/love interest with zero evidence to demand attention when said friend/love interest has done absolutely nothing wrong.

Like. If this was a murder mystery, and you had a character who, with zero proof, started suspecting Character E, and didn’t even look at A-D, despite all the mounting evidence that E is innocent, Protagonist is just fixating and projecting and stuck in their own head, would that be entertaining? You’re reading a murder mystery to live vicariously through the hero and use their smarts and observation skills to try and solve it yourself. You’re not here to watch them harass E until they admit to guilt for a crime they didn’t commit just to make it stop.

If that is a story you want to read, the summary would make that quite clear up front, or at least the first two chapters before you get invested. If I’m sold a murder mystery, by god, I’m going to expect a murder mystery.

Something I see a lot in inexperienced authors (or those who think “writing is easy, if it’s hard for you, you just suck”) is making characters too realistic. If you want to write a full-blown transcript of a conversation, false-starts and stutters and nonsensical grammar and half-finished points, be my guest, but fiction is supposed to be a little cleaned up. Details in fictional stories should be written with intent.

Not every single one. Sometimes a character’s eyes are green because I have too many with brown. It’s not that deep.

But bigger things, like a character’s personality and motives, should all serve the greater narrative. What does their insecurity say about them? How does it impact the choices they make and how they see the world? Is this something they grow out of or a trait that dooms them as a self-fulfilling prophecy?

The lesson doesn’t always have to be “you’re beautiful just the way you are”. It can be a nightmarish regression. Whatever it is, just tell a story with it, otherwise, why is it here?

[mallowmaenad]

baedel flow

this shit ain't nothin to me girl

i'm taking DIY alstolfo brand temu titty skittles. I got so much prog up my ass my dildo has erectile dysfunction. I'm injecting estrogen straight into my face so I can force fem the cop in my brain.

I'm problematic. I ship things you can't imagine. The judge read my Archive Of Our Own bookmarks out loud and the jury were too busy throwing up to give me a guilty verdict.

I smoke shit so dank it'll age regress you into a fucking sperm.

I'm on that greymarket back alley bimbo goo. I'm doing deviantart shit to my body just to look myself in the mirror when I shave in the morning.

Your sister LOVES my milk duds. You never had a brother, she calls me mommy with a 2 year age difference.

I'm putting lead and estrogen in my haters' cereal so I can make some toxic yuri, get them moaning in their boyvoices 6 months later behind the Warhammer store like I'm fucking Slaanesh.

They/them me again and I'll run a used Manscaped Lawnmower across your face until you look like a fucking newborn

I show up to Planned Parenthood just to stand there and watch the abortions, licking my lips between sips of Strawberry Dreams mixed with pure thailander gamer girl sweat.

When I'm done with you you'll never want to go to the pool shirtless again bitch

I'm on those quadruple puppygirlboygirl anarchist homebrew estrogen patches, taking so much spiro that Big Pharma is wiping down fire hydrants in my area to make Premarin with the residue.

The only thing Harkness is testing is my fucking patience and I'm about to turn him into another one of my little sisters

I'm smoking that bocchi the rock giving myself middle school anxiety so intense it erases my male socialization

They wanted to write a callout post about me so I fucked their moms, and their dogs and the playstation 5 just for good measure, now if they don't call me auntie they're grounded from role playing My Hero Academia characters on discord for 2 weeks.

You wish I'd make you my bitch. By the time you re-align your pronouns you'll be bottoming for a fucking stuffed shark posting about your Amazon Basics skirt on reddit

They call me the egg cracker because I bust so many fucking balls

I radiate so much AGP my nickname at the local pride center is elephant's foot. I give Kaitlyn Jenner so much gender envy it's got her considering voting blue in the next election.

Yeah I'm on E, what the fuck else am I gonna trip on when I drive to the pharmacy blasting SewerSlvt so loud youtube is recommending video essays to every single person in the tri state area.

Christine Chandler wishes she was me. Contrapoints wishes she was me. Aphrodite desires me carnally. They can't handle the divine feminine energy radiating from my unwashed hen cause they gotta go through the Hero's Journey just to get a face full of baby butter that tastes like expired anchovies.

Tonight girl my chosen name is Bridget because I'm going to go to town inside you. Your hole's gonna be more ruined than Thanksgiving dinner when I show up in a slutty little number watching my cousin the same age as me lose another inch of his hairline.

I'm sucking on that neocities watamote siscon shadow siren hard candy getting affected like a male feminist just heard me say the word bitch a little too loud for his liking. My Celeste speedruns have never been faster.

Fuck around and find out keep talking shit and my final fantasy 14 plugins won't be the only thing I'll be reprogramming tonight

[idontplaytrack]

heyyy! First I love your fics!! Hoping for some more regressed janis! My idea is she’s out with damian and regina in public and she accidently regresses and gets really mad/ upset. Tantrum level. They have to take her home and tell her why it wasn’t ok to throw a fit.

✧ Freak the freak out

Janis ‘Imi’ike x Regina George (ft. Damian Hubbard)

Warnings: age regression, tantrums, crying, implied domestic violence, bit of coarse language, fluffy ending

Enjoy this short little drabble. I hope

“Janis!” Regina hollered, running after the petite brunette in the carnival crowd.

“What—” Damian stares at the chaos in front of him, startled. He was holding onto a churro in one hand, half-eaten. And also Janis’ slushie on the other.

The blonde’s head whipped around, and she spoke through gritted, “Help me, Hubbard.”

The guy gulped and quickly caught up.

“You carry on running and we’re going right home!” Regina warned. Janis slowed to a halt at this threat, she didn’t want to go home yet— she was having fun.

“I told you not to get her the slushie.” Regina huffed.

“It’s just one thing, Reg.” Damian sighed, “She isn’t usually this easily hopped up on sugar.” He swiftly pulled her back by her shirt, “I’m gonna stop you right there because you’re girlfriend’s gonna give you an ass whooping if you make her run any more.”

“I am not that violent, bitch.” Regina snorted, glaring at Damian jokingly. Janis sulked, Regina put an arm around her shoulder. “Cheer up. I only told you not to run because it’s dangerous. I don’t want you to fall and get hurt.”

Janis wriggled free from Regina’s hold and sulked the rest of her way through the night. Even though she was quietly just sipping on her slushie now, Regina knew something was going to go wrong. It was not the first time. And of course, Regina was right. She usually was. After three tries at a carnival game, Regina was down six bucks but still couldn’t win a prize for Janis. Usually, the Hawaiian would simply be bummed. But tonight, she just…screeched and started crying.

Damian and Regina stared at each other, completely stunned. “Yeah, we’re going home.” Regina decided, going back to her car with Damian and holding Janis close. “Come on, baby.”

At this point, Janis wasn’t even looking at where she was going, her face buried in Regina’s side as she wept. Regina hands the keys over to Damian when the shorter girl showed no sign of letting her go. “It’s okay.” Regina held her face by the chin, Janis just looked away, pouting. “C’mon, what’s wrong?” Regina sighed quietly.

Janis doesn’t talk, but the tears just keep flowing. Regina knew Janis really wanted that stuffed panda, but wasting money on that game wasn’t the way to go. She would rather just buy it for Janis at the store. And she was going to. ”It’s not okay to just scream and cry in public like that, Jan.”

“I know.” Janis sulked, “…’m sorry. Is not nice.”

The rest of the ride home to Regina’s was filled with uncomfortable silence. Regina didn’t know what else to do but hold her. She knew Janis was regressed, and had been for the entirety of the evening, but Regina only wished she knew what caused it this time so she could help her better.

“You sure you don’t want me to stick around for a while?”

“We’re fine, go home. It’s late.” Regina smiled appreciatively, “I got this.”

“Alright, good night. If you need anything, contact me.”

Regina leads Janis up to her room, closing the door behind them both. “What’s the matter?” Regina asked, crouching down to Janis’ eye level as she sat Janis down on her bed.

Janis shook her head, mumbling, “ I dunno.” Then she started sobbing again, and apologizing ever so often. “Did Cady make you watch a scary movie?”

“No.” Janis mumbled, “Sad.”

“Oh.” Regina had a similar frown on her face, “I’ll get you that panda soon, baby. I promise.”

“…’m scared, too.”

“Why, baby? What happened?”

“Mama threw something.”

“What? At you?”

“I made her mad.” Janis nodded.

“Oh, you’re okay now. I promise, I’m right here.”

“I don’t like it.” Janis choked on a sob, “Feel funny.”

Regina’s brows furrowed together, studying Janis closely. Then she sees that Janis had a hand on her chest, massaging it like it was hurting. “It goes so fast.”

“Baby, look at me.” Regina held her chin, “Look at me, okay?”

“Reggie, help me. I don’t like dis—”

“Janis, I’m gonna need you to look at me, kiddo.” Regina repeated firmly, “Do what I do, breathe. In and out.”

“I can’t—”

“Yes, you can. Baby, you can. You got this, I’ve got you. You’re okay, I promise you.”

Took some time, but Regina got Janis calm again. And asleep. Calm, and asleep. Perfect. But her back was starting to hurt after being on her feet all day. When Regina tried to set Janis down, she woke up, “No, stay.”

“I know, I know.” Regina hummed, “I just want to set you down because my back doesn’t feel good. But I’m gonna snuggle with you, alright?”

Janis agreed after some seconds, “…kay.”

At last, Regina carefully put Janis on the mattress then laid down next to her. At least this way, they were both happy and Regina didn’t have to deal with a heck of a flare up of her back pain the next day.

“You feel better?” Regina asks, watching Janis’ face. As Regina brushed the hair out of her eyes, Janis smiled softly, “Mhm.”

“That’s great, sweetie.” Regina stroked her cheek with her thumb, smiling in relief.

“Thank you Reggie.” Janis laughed sleepily, eyes cheekily peeling open. Regina grinned, pinching her cheek, “Don’t you wanna sleep, hm?”

Janis giggled, nodded her head then snuggled closer. Instinctively, the blonde’s arms around her tightened. “G’night.” Janis murmured, face smushed up against Regina's chest.

“Good night, sweet love.” Regina planted a kiss to her forehead, “Good night. I love you.”

🏷️Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartandstuff @pda128

💭A/N:

This was sitting in my requests since October😭 I really need to stop taking my time—

[cookie-crumblr]

Chubby F! Housewife Reader x M! Yandere OC Jasper

Part 4

Part 1 here!

MINORS DNI!

CW: F!Reader, reader has a vagina, reader referred to as she/her, non-con somno touching, reader has hair(not described just “in face”, pet names for reader(pretty, ), age regression? kinda a little, names called not by ML(bitch, ), TW ED AND WEIGHT MENTIONED NEGATIVELY(ily fellow girlies and NB’s and boys with ED’s please be warned!), just sad kinda vibes, short part(getting back into it sorry luv yas!) ABUSIVE HUSBAND omg sorry i forgot the wholeass theme

(i know i gave us all so many options XD also i deleted the wholeass ending of the last post?? i confused myself lol so sorry ignore the weirdness plz idk why i did that)

Song rec: a lot on ur plate, by Father

“O-oh this? hah, I uh-uhm, fell, haha, yeah, it was really embarrassing, to be honest.” You rub your arm bashfully, hoping he’ll drop it.

Fell.

On your eye?

Sure.

He smiles softly at you, offering silent consolation for whatever you do not wish to admit. Then he steps back and let’s you inside.

Once inside his eccentricly vaporwave home, he leads you to his game room. It’s fully decked out with two multi-monitored setups, and a humungous T.V. The cable management is immaculate-meaning: You don’t see a single one, it’s beautiful even if you aren’t really into this stuff, you can see the care and dedication he’s put into his hobby, just the same as the rest of his house.

“Wow Jasper! This is so cool!! Your place is really awesome! I don’t know if i’ve told you that yet, but i’m obsessed!” You motion towards the room to show off your point.

He glows sheepishly, he’s used to complements on his appearance sure, but on something so personal to him, and by you, of course he’s a little embarrassed. He’s so ecstatic too. “Thanks pretty~”

He starts setting up for a movie, handing you a box stack of thrillers and slashers to choose from, how cute, physical copies! You wonder if these are his faves, or if he just buys dvd’s for every movie he watches.

You pick one toward the middle, it’s old, like really old. Killer Clowns from Outer Space.

“A classic, truly ahead of its time.”

~

You’ve fallen asleep on Jasper’s couch somehow, even after the amount you’ve slept this past week.

You felt so calm near him, so safe and relaxed, you’re gonna feel so bad when you wake up, but for now, this is the best rest you’ve gotten in months.

You poor thing, you were all alone in that sunroom for that week, nobody even messaged you. You must’ve been so bored… And so lonely.

He moves some of your hair gently from your face, his lids heavy as he looks from your peaceful expression, straight to your lips. His slender hand slowly raises to meet your skin, his fingers caress your cheek, and flow down to your lips where he pauses to inspect you.

Your head is lolled uncomfortably to one side and you’re a little slouched, yet he gazes over you fondly.

Pale fingers lightly dance over your more sensitive flesh, as he leans closer to you. With eyes heavily lidded and mouth parted slightly he places his lips to yours.

Your lips purse slightly in your sleep, in reception, as if you’re (in his mind) giving him the green light to continue. His heart races wildly in his chest, like a clydesdale down a stone path, heavily and loud.

“So pretty~” it just slips right out of his throat.

You aren’t stirring much, so he gently, and begrudgingly lays you more comfortably next to him… if it was up to him you’d be in his lap, but he is already too excited for that. You’d wake up in horror, he’s sure.

His hands accidentally brush over your chest, and he stops to check on your face, to make sure you’re still asleep. You are.

He brings his palm back to the center of one of your breasts, and softly lays his hand over it, again checking you. His eyes are heavily lidded as he begins to massage and squeeze, upping the pressure little by little. Slowly he starts to press harder and uses his thumb to brush over your peaked nipple, he runs it over so many times by now your breathing shallower. Every flick of your bud has your body almost jumping in your slumber.

You mumble something, and startle Jasper, he stops, before switching to your other breast, making that feel just as hot as the first. Flicking over that sensitive nipple through the fabric of your top, he stops to pinch them both and watch you take much shallower, and needier breaths. His own breathing is becoming hard to keep quite as your growing excitement is evident to him.

Imagining how wet you must be already has him dizzy, and on his knees in front of you and the couch.

If he goes any further he’ll have to do something more drastic… He can feel it in him, the surmounting hunger making his head feel full of smoke ready to burst out.

“Fuck.” He fixes your top and pulls away to go find a blanket.

Just then, your phone dings eight a message from your husband. Jasper fishes around his own pocket for your clone and checks the message:

“Where the fuck are you Y/N”

Jasper’s eye twitches, as he reads and rereads the message over again.

“mmf… Jas-*Yaawwwn~*per?” You stretch and sit up behind him, he puts away the phone clone, and readjusts his pants in the same motion as he turns to you. His erection twitches with the way you said his name, rubbing painfully against the tightness of his jeans.

“Hey there, pretty~ how did you sleep?” His mind melts again when he sees you, forgetting all about your husband already.

You giggle and your face heats up hearing him call you that so naturally, and in his soothing, breathy voice. Not to mention, after such a hot dream…

You push the heels of your palms sheepishly into your eyes, pretending to wipe them but really just trying to hide the fact that you’re flustered by him. He watches closely with intense interest sparkling in his irises.

“Oh shit!” You exclaim, locking back into reality and you start to frantically look around the couch for your phone, which ended up under your cushy behind.

“You alright?” He asks, worried.

Your heart sinks at the message you’ve awoken to… How can your husband be so… Cruel?

“N-no… I don’t think I am…” Tears well in your eyes.

He shuffles closer getting on his knees before you, and cupping your face.

“Do you want me to fix it?” his voice is so serious it makes your heart thump nervously.

“I don’t know, Jasper…” You aren’t sure what he means. “I can fix it, i’m sure!” You shake your head with determination.

A gentle smile creeps across his face, you have to look away as your heart keeps thumping too hard and too loudly! And he’s just too handsome, does he know what he’s doing to you.

His hand remains cupping the air where your chin once was for a second longingly, before he lets it fall to the couch cushion.

“If you ever need me, just tell me.” He offers.

You nod your head once in understanding, even though you have no idea what he could possibly mean by him ‘fixing it’.

You collect your things and head home. Jasper follows you and walks you to the gate between your yards.

“See ya soon, pretty~”

You turn on your heel bashfully, fuck! why is he so hot and he just keeps calling you that…. Is it so wrong that you don’t ever want him to stop either…?

~

Your husband on the other hand, stands tall and looks in the doorway like a massive father waiting for his troublesome little girl to come home. you feel like a little girl before him too, one that’s broken a rule and about to be punished.

“If you hadn’t been in the sunroom sulking for a week i’d think you’ve cheated on me, stupid selfish bitch. Who was that, thing, at our yard gate?”

Anger boils in you but quickly simmers when you remember he already punched you once. “That’s just our neighbor, his name is Jasper.”

“You’re already buddy buddy with the local freak then. You’re to stop hanging around it effective immediately, Y/N.” Gods he sounds like a father too. Bile builds in your throat and you swallow hard to avoid gagging.

“Yes sir.” It just slipped out naturally, like his commanding tone just awakened your much younger self. You almost gag again, and hold your stomach and mouth.

He sees you practically turning green and gets angry with you, “What the fuck is your problem bitch?” He sets down his crystal glass of scotch, and cracks his left knuckles.

“No-nothing! sorry, i think i ate something bad earlier”

“Speaking of, you should stop eating for a while. You’re embarrassing me now,” He says it so easily, something so atrocious.

“Maybe i will then…” The words fall from your lips dejectedly.

The world is a deep blur as your feet carry you to the bedroom behind Edward. He shoves you in front of him, getting tired of dragging you by your soft arm. You look down at your wrist and see angry skin already forming blues, but you aren’t feeling any pain.

Are you that dissociated? You blink a few times, but you realize you’d rather stay zoned out, and climb into the cold bed.

~

Just curious,

[pruneunfair]

COBYB shit list (Rage post).

This isn't really an actual analysis or anything like that. Just a vent post to get out the frustrations of how willfully ignorant COBYB stans are.

It's all being a "girls girl" until it's this shit

When a woman wants to act obsessive and the man doesn't reciprocate, the woman is a creepy bitch who needs to go while the man is comforted by the audience and celebrated for rejecting the stalker (as it should be)

When a sexy man wants to be obsessive and abuse a girl to get out his frustrations of being in lust with someone who can't say no to him, she's just "rejecting her true feelings" and the man just doesn't know how to show his love in a normal way.

knowing damn well that this story would be treated as the psychological horror it truly is if Matthias looked like Marquess Sergev from I thought my time was up. Pretty privilege is so real right now.

"Oh he chose to do nothing against his bitchy mom! Kyle isn't deserving of Layla for being such a coward!"

"Matthias on the other hand buys Layla gifts even when he hurts her because he really does love her! It's the nobilities fault he's like this! He apologized in the end didnt he? 😢 he just doesn't know how to properly show his love!"

Be real: Everyone would adore her for "protecting her fiancé" and would sympathize with her if she was the lead of a basic isekai or regression.

Bro will meet this girl when she's 12 and get bliss out of torturing birds knowing it makes her cry and you still have people diagnosing Layla with BPD and absolving Matthias of all blame.

Hey guys, is this the look of a pleasured young woman after a so-called "fun night" in the woods?

You tell me?

Matthias can do whatever the hell he wants and it's just "He's a red flag but I'm color blind 😏" but GOD FORBID I defend Ari.

What? I thought you people LOVED toxic relationships as long as the guy is conventionally hot?

Layla gets coerced into being a mistress against her will so her uncle Bill will be safe and people STILL claim that it was not SA because she "consented" after her only remaining family members future was held as leverage.

"Who does she think she is? Kissing Matthias right in front of Layla 🙄"

His fiancé? And don't give me that "it was an arranged marriage" crap because we all know the manhwa community doesnt give a damn as evident by OTHER manhwas.

Plot twist: The ending wasn't actually Layla getting lobotomized by the plot to love Matthias. She just knew that man was never going to quit until she either accepted or he takes a page out of the song Sarah from Tyler the creator.

Yall know that "Grandma, you little victim." Meme that originated in tiktok? That's basically the best way to describe Laylas future when she grows old.

"If you don't like it, don't read, you're just justice farming for views 😒"

First of all, would you believe me if I said I got a basic summary of what happened thanks to getting a ton of COBYB related posts on tiktok and Instagram videos that were being extremely vague and gaslit you into thinking it was romance? (Yes, I did find the rest of the chapters to read so I could actually make a verified post but to begin with, I already knew a basic idea of what was happening.)

Second of all: if this were just some random 🍇 and degrading fetish comic on a porn site with little people defending it, I wouldn't feel the need to care. (EX: I don't make any abandoned empress posts because everyone already hates it so there's no need to say what has been said a million times already) this is a gross porn novel that was put on a site mostly inhabited by 10-16 year old girls that makes stalking and 🍇 look sexy thanks to the artstyle and the ML being a buff BTS blow up doll and instead of it being called out, you got THOUSANDS of people tarnishing the name of dark romance so they can justify a grapist while pretending to be girl's-girl's instead of coming to terms with the fact that the comic with a beautiful artstyle is grade A garbge.