#hes kinda my little horrid guy. sorry

[mummer]

the idea of gwayne being at harrenhal is cracking me up because he has no inner life. aemond and criston going through the thematically dense sexual bloodworld torture nexus meanwhile gwayne is crying and shaking because alys put a fake spider in his pantaloons

[itsnevercasual]

Infinity

pairing: college au!harry x reader

summary: The guy next door likes to blast music. You maybe-sorta-kinda really like him.

warnings: cussing, not edited, im not in college idk how it works…

—

You didn’t want to be annoying. Truly, you didn’t. But you and your roommate, Daisy, were asleep.

Or…

Trying to be.

It was difficult with the blasting music next door.

And honestly, you had tried to avoid it. Had let them play their loud music for months now. Sent Daisy over to tell them to shut up so you didn’t have to (because despite her name, she was terrifying when she got mad).

But.. really?

It had to be, like… three in the morning. They’d been blasting it since nine pm, and you hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep.

So, clad in your bunny slippers, pajama pants you stole from someone (don’t ask who, you don’t remember) and a Fleetwood Mac shirt four sizes too big (because that was all they had at the thrift store), hair pulled back into a very messy braid, and glasses you rarely wore because you liked yourself better with contacts (mainly because you were so blind your glasses made your eyes look bigger), you stomped on over.

You pounded on the door (not really.. your knock barely made a sound), and miraculously, they heard you and opened the door.

A boy opened it.

No. Not a boy.

A cute boy. A very, very cute boy.

You blinked in surprise. You had expected girls… were boys even allowed on the same floor as girls?

“Ehm.. can I help you?” he asked after you were silent for a little too long.

“Oh. Right. Uh.. would you mind turning the music off? I have a final tomorrow, and.. I’m next door, so.. I can kinda hear it. On full blast. Um.. you don’t have to turn it off.. just.. down..”

He sighed, turning into the dorm to shout, “I told you to turn it down, Lou!” he turns back to you. “Yeah. Sorry. My mate’s practically deaf, I’m pretty sure. Doesn’t realize how loud he is… you say you’re next door?”

You nod.

“You got the alarmingly scary roommate named after a flower?”

Another nod. Why was he making small talk? You wanted to sleep.

“Ah. Glad y’didn’t send her over.”

He eyes you up and down, giving that sentence another meaning you didn’t really like.

"Right. Well.. just.. turn it down, please," you give an awkward smile and nod.

When you turn to walk away, he stops you, "’ey-- little rude to not give me y'name, isn't it?"

"Oh. Uh.. I’m Y/N."

He grins, "Well, hello, Y/N. I’m Harry."

You nod, pursing your lips as you pull on a strand of your hair.

There’s a beat of silence, and you contemplate just throwing yourself off a bridge, honestly.

"I'll see you around, Y/N."

With that, you scurry off to your room. Despite being uncomfortable in the moment, it wasn't because of him. You just were horrid at talking to boys.

-

A few weeks passed, and you accepted the fact that maybe you wouldn't see your neighbor as much as you hoped you would.

And really, you weren’t surprised. You’d never seen him before, why would that change? It made perfect sense that he remained as elusive as he had apparently always been.

Well, that is, until you were dragged to a party you really didn’t wanna go to in clothes you really weren’t all that comfortable wearing at your house— let alone at some douchey frat party.

The first hour was fine because it was early, so only a handful of people were drunk.

The second hour was less enjoyable, the longer the party went on, the more people drank.

In the third hour, your friends shoved a drink in your hand, and once you finished it, they sucked you into taking far too many shots.

The fourth hour was when you started to get antsy. You were pushing over the edge of just being a little too tipsy, and it was hot and sticky and crowded and had it always been so hard to breathe?

You shoved your way out of the crowd and onto the empty (or so you thought) patio, and exhaled. It was less of a patio and more of a balcony, since it was the second floor— but it was huge. 20 people could comfortably stand on it and not be crowded.

Your heels clack on the concrete as you walk to the edge of the patio, leaning on the railing as you take deep breaths.

“That bad in there?”

You nearly jump out of your skin at the familiar british voice. You spin around with wide eyes and a hand over your heart, “Jesus Christ! Don’t do that!”

“Sorry!” he raises his hands in defense. “I thought you saw me!”

“Clearly not!” you pause and take a deep breath, “Sorry— I’m kinda drunk and I hate being drunk. I’m paranoid enough when I’m sober, so when I can’t even walk straight I’m extra jumpy and anxious. And I honestly didn’t even wanna come out tonight, my friends just dragged me along and put me in some ‘going out clothes’ that I don’t think I even have the confidence to wear alone in my dorm! And—“

You pause at his grinning face.

“I’m rambling, aren’t I? Sorry, I get nervous when I’m drunk. Did I already say that? I think I did. Anyway, I talk a lot when i’m nervous, and I don’t really know how to talk to guys in the first place. If I get too annoying just tell me to shut up and I will. I don’t even realize I’m doing it half the— I’m still going. Sorry.”

“No harm done. I quite like your nervous rambling.”

Your cheeks heat up.

“So what made you run for the hills to come out here?” he asks, standing up from the chair he was sitting on.

“I’m not really a party girl.”

“Yeah, I could’ve guessed that.”

You frown, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Not in a bad way!” he rushes out. “But you just.. are a jumpy person, like you said. Like a bunny. I’d be surprised if you went to parties every weekend on your own free will.”

And really— you have to laugh, because he’s right. “Yeah. I’m definitely not a party girl. And I am not the girl who wears this stuff. Not that it’s bad! But.. I’m just not.. comfortable in this,” you shrug, pulling at the short skirt.

The outfit your friends had picked out consisted of a white, very mini mini-skirt, a white cropped tank top, and some black heels. If the skirt was just a little longer, perhaps a little looser, you’d be fine. If you could at least cover up your belly button— you’d always hated it for no real reason except for the fact that, as embarrassing as it sounds, belly buttons freaked you out.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I think you look great,” he smiles.

You probably look like a tomato’s long lost sibling by now.

“Thank you.”

“But.. I also think you look great in pyjamas and bunny slippers and glasses and that little pout telling me my music’s too loud.”

“Hey!” You cross your arms.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” he laughs as you try to smack his arm. “So, if you don’t like parties, why’re you here?”

“My friends wanted to go out,” you shrug. “I was done the second we got here.”

He pauses, as if mulling over a thought in his brain and you desperately want to know what, before he speaks, “D’you wanna go home, then?”

You blink at him, “What? I— I mean, yeah. I do, but I’m kinda drunk and all my friends are plastered—“

“I’ll drive you,” he cuts you off before you talk yourself up a wall. “Live next door t’ya anyway.”

“Really? I— are you sure?”

“Yeah,” he shrugs, “Wouldn’t have offered if I was. Let’s get y’out of here.”

-

The trip to the car took far longer than necessary, mainly because you ran into your friends doing shots and got sucked into one more round, which turned into ten more rounds.

By the time you were done, Harry was half carrying you out. He’d long since looped your arm around his shoulders, and his own arm around your waist as you stumbled towards the car.

“Alright,” he sighed once the two of you finally reached the car. “In you get, love.”

You can’t even stop yourself from grinning ridiculously as he helps you get in the passenger seat and buckle.

He shuts your door and slides into the driver’s seat. You stare at him. He smiles, but doesn’t call you out.

He turns on the radio, and you gasp. “I love this song!”

“Do you, now?” he laughs, and it’s almost teasing. Or, perhaps, it is, and your brain is too fogged up to comprehend that.

“Yes!” you exclaim, turning up the volume as Cruel Summer blasts through his car.

“I’m drunk in the back of the car! And I cried like a baby comin’ home from the bar! Oh, oh!” you sing, extremely off key.

“Quite the singer,” he comments.

“Said I’m fine, but it wasn’t true! I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you! And I snuck in through the garden gate—“

-

“You’re pretty,” you comment as Harry helps you up the stairs.

“You think so?”

“Yeah. You have nice eyes. And hair. Your hair’s really soft.”

“Don’t think you’ve ever touched my hair, so I’m not sure how you came to that conclusion, babe.”

You grin. Babe. “It looks soft. Duh.”

“Oh, of course. Duh.”

You think he’s teasing you, but you don’t care to tease back or get offended.

“Alright. Where’re your keys?”

“My keys! They’re… with Daisy.”

“No spares?”

“No,” you pout. “Do I have to sleep in the hallway?”

“No, ‘course not,” he shakes his head, pausing. “Ehm.. new plan. Gonna set you up in my bed, yeah? That okay?”

You nod with a hum.

He moves you one door over and fumbles with the key before finally pushing the door open.

“Bed’s right here, love. In you get, c’mon.”

He helps you sit down on the bed, and you rest your head against the wall.

“Hey, hey— don’t sleep yet.”

“Why?” you whine.

“Gotta get you comfy,” he explains, tugging your shoes off. He quickly goes to the dresser before pulling out pants and a shirt.

“You need help changing?”

You frown and nod.

“Alright. I won’t look, love. Promise.”

True to his word, Harry turns you around so your back is to him as he helps you get out of the tank top. He quickly slips the t-shirt over it.

He lays you down on the bed and slaps a hand over his eyes as he pulls your skirt down and helps you into the pants.

“Alright.. better, yeah?”

You nod, lying on the pillow. He helps you under the covers that smell like him and gives you an extra blanket.

“M’kay. Gonna sleep on the top bunk, yeah? Just say my name if y’need me.”

“Thank you,” you mumble.

“‘Course.”

He moves to walk away, but— “Wait, Harry—“

He turns back to you, “What’s wrong?”

You lift a hand up and run it through his hair. “I was right. It’s soft.”

He laughs.

“Go to bed, babe.”

“Sir, yes, Sir.”

He knew you’d probably be embarrassed in the morning, but he wouldn’t tell you that he enjoyed how touchy you got when drunk.

You didn’t plan on telling him that you’d slightly sobered up on the drive home and just played the drunk bit up as an excuse.

And your keys were in your purse.

-

a/n: YAYYYY COLLEGE AU HARRY!!!

[romanticintheory]

Okay but could u write something fluffy with soap. Tbh I feel like he'd be the best friend to lovers kinda thing.

AND YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY RIGHT i love friends to lovers so much guys u don't understand :(

also, i realize now that this isn't super fluff-heavy!! apologies </3 i got carried away.

johnny "soap" mactavish x gn!reader

warnings: horrid scottish slang from a non-scot (i am sincerely sorry), my writing from 2 am on three hours of sleep (also sincerely sorry)

-

-best friend to lovers with soap except there wasn't really a specific moment you two become each other's. it just... kind of happened.

-growing up with him and supporting his dreams to be a soldier while he supported yours. the first time he came back from a mission, you were the first person he wanted to see once he was allowed back home.

-you used to fuss over any injuries he got from being himself as a little kid, and the worry only heightened when he'd come back from missions with real wounds.

-his mom would always have a cheeky smile seeing you two together. she never said it, but it was always hinted in the way she acted. she was always talking to johnny about how you were such an impressive and loyal young person, often doting on you and insisting you stay for dinner (which, of course, you couldn't refuse).

-the first time johnny started dating someone, it was hard for you to deal with, but it got easier the more it happened.

-what you didn't know was johnny would take it even worse whenever you told him you started dating someone. he'd act all proud and protective in a brotherly fashion, but behind closed doors he was scowling to himself without knowing why.

-one day, you're visiting him in his apartment after he had been away for a few months. you're strangely more subdued than usual, and of course he notices.

-"hey," he calls to you softly, a strange contrast to his usual loud self. "what's wrong?"

-"nothing, don't worry about it," you reassure him, fiddling with the little plushie he got you from his travels--one of the many trinkets he's gotten for you. he always says it's to make up for the fact that he won't be there to bother you in person, but it's actually because every precious little thing he sees reminds him of you.

-"ah ken you're lying," he tells you in a warning tone.

-"i got broken up with, is all," you admit, turning your head away from him.

-"what?" he booms incredulously. how could anyone leave you? "is he insane? after getting an apartment together?"

-"there was this girl from his work and, well, i don't know," you shrugged, fighting back the tears you thought had dried days ago. "he wants the apartment. i mean, he did pay for more of it so-"

-"come live with me."

-it was your turn to be in disbelief, turning your head to face him with a confused look on your face.

-"what?"

-"th' place is empty with me at work. no rent, 's away from yer stupid ex, and ye get to be around me," he added jokingly. you rolled your eyes, but how could you not take him up on his offer?

-from then on, you're living with your best friend and taking care of the place while he's away. if you're staying rent-free, the least you could do was try and be as neat as possible (he insisted it was okay with the place looked like it was lived in, but you refused).

-when he'd come back from his missions, he'd still shower you in little gifts he'd get along the way when possible. you always tried to have some kind of meal ready for him, too.

-"you're always cooking for us, a'm feeling like i should do it sometime," he says, already knowing the answer to that proposal.

-"absolutely not." (the one time you let him cook was when you were both in college. he caught a pan on fire, somehow.)

-"you hurt me!"

-"oh, please."

-eventually, the routine becomes more and more domestic to the two of you. soap's mother always calls out how you two are living like a married couple, but the both of you just laugh it off like neither of you have noticed.

-you eventually notice changes in johnny's gifts. it went from gag gifts and plushies to little pieces of jewelry or intricate pens. sometimes you even think you catch him staring at you, but maybe it was just wishful thinking. he hasn't mentioned being interested in anyone in a while, either.

-it all comes to a head when johnny doesn't come home the day he said he would. sure, it happened at times, but this was the longest amount of time he's been late.

-eventually, he finally walks through the door with too many injuries, a bruise on his lip, and walking with a rough limp.

-you tend to him immediately, of course, interrogating him on what his doctor told him he should do to take care of his healing wounds. the rest of the night goes just like how the others have gone, with you making sure he's fed, warm, and resting.

-by the time you're closing his window for him, you're absolutely exhausted. you had barely gotten any sleep because of johnny's delayed return. normally, you would've let him do more for himself, but the extent of his injuries was worrying you.

-"ye ken am alright, aye?" he asks you in that low, rich voice, searching your eyes for something other than worry and sleepiness. he's sitting up in his bed by the time you walk back to him (despite the fact that you told him to lay down).

-"you're injured. you came home late."

-"what? ye have no faith in me?" he mocks hurt, trying to put a smile on your face or at least get an exhale of amusement out of you, but you weren't in the mood. he could tell by the way you didn't respond and the permanent but subtle frown on your face.

-"i know you're good at your job, johnny," you finally say, ready to call it a night.

-"good. then ye know i'll always come back home to ye, aye?"

-you swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded, too tired to overthink about what he just said.

-"come here," he orders quietly, reaching out to you.

-gently, he coaxes you into laying next to him. the last time you ever slept in the same bed as johnny was when you two were kids. you were having a sleepover at his house with you in his bed and him on a spare mattress. you had a nightmare so bad it woke johnny up, but instead of brushing it off and making a joke of it, he jumped into bed with you and hugged you protectively. he said it was a good way to train for becoming a soldier, and you couldn't help but snort with laughter.

-just like back then, you had an easy time falling asleep in his arms, now.

-you woke up that morning well-rested and still encased in johnny's arms, which was impressive considering the fact that most times he sleeps in a position that looks like he flung himself across the bed.

-when he wakes up, you sit up with the intention getting breakfast up and running, but johnny doesn't like that idea.

-"johnny, it's almost eleven. we have to eat something," you chide, trying to get out of his impossibly strong grasp.

-"ye get all sad when am gone but yer trying to leave, now?"

-"well, i suppose if you're well enough to joke, you're well enough to clean the rest of the house and cook, yeah?"

-he lets go of you immediately in a comical fashion, and you have to catch yourself as you hurl out of bed from the built momentum of your escape. you look back at him with a seriously? look on your face as he laughs at your near fall.

-"doesn't that hurt?" you question him, remembering the bruise and cut near his lips and throat.

-"maybe a little," he admits. "kiss it better?"

-the grin on his face makes you think he was setting you up for that one. how could he be so confident?

-just like the times when his mother called you two a married couple, you laughed it off and headed to the kitchen to start breakfast.

-that wasn't the only time johnny's behavior changed noticeably. now, his longing stares at you were more blatant than ever. he'd hold you by the waist if he was moving past you and even told someone flirting with him "oh, i've got someone at home," while he was on call with you on the other end.

-what more could you do than accept it? it wasn't like you didn't like it, anyway.

-one night, you're both in the dining room with you standing and him sitting down on a chair. his hands are on your waist with his legs on either side of you as you reapply a band-aid to his temple (something he could very well do on his own, but any excuse to be close to you, right?).

-as you finish putting it on, your attention draws itself to his lip nearly healed. gently ghosting your finger across the barely visible bruise, you murmur, "good to see this one's basically healed."

-"awe, but it isn't," he corrects you, a slight pout on his face.

-"it isn't?"

-"no, still hurts like hell." you should've seen this one coming. "kiss it better?"

-"that's the second time you've asked me," you were rolling your eyes as you withdrew your hand from his face, but he caught your hand in his.

-"am being serious, (n/n), only a kiss'll make it better," he insists, that damn smile back on his face.

-you couldn't help but wonder if he was actually being serious or just pulling your leg.

-"how could you be so sure?" you challenged him.

-"seen it in ma dreams." oh, that was a funny one.

-"you dream about kissing people to heal your wounds?" you ask through the remnants of your laughter, but he's still looking at you with that same far-off smile on his face.

-"no, just of you."

-there's a pause between the two of you as you process what he said.

-"oh."

-he squeezes your hand with an expectant look in his eyes, like he knew you were head over heels just as much as he was for you.

-you cleared your throat and tried to ignore the searing burning in your cheeks. "well, i guess if you dreamt it, it must be true," you tell him.

-he places his unoccupied hand under your chin and guides your face to his, but he doesn't close the gap. it was like he was waiting--making sure you really wanted to go through with this.

-but you do, so you press your lips to his and he lets go of your face to put his palm on the small of your back, pulling you impossibly closer toward him.

-later that night, when you're back in his arms watching your guys' favorite show and he's calling his mother to tell her the news, you can hear her shrieks of excitement coming through the phone.

-the only thing you don't hear is when she asks, "when's th' wedding?"

-"soon, hopefully," he looks at you leaning against him, head pressed against his shoulder and arm clinging to his like it was meant to be. "but there's no rush. a've waited this long, aye?"

[interastical]

Another Phighting writing account??YAYYAYYAYAYAY

can you do yan!Subspace x former assassin!reader (reader is gender neutral!). The reader was from Blackrock but ran away and uhh Subspace kinda found them again.. oneshot please!

(I stole this request from someone because the other writer hasnt update for a while and I am in desperate need of fanfics.. thank youu!)

sorry for taking so long on requests! i've got a good handful in my inbox now and since i got a lot of my assignments out of the way, i can start working on these ahaha

requests are also still open! please feel free to send some my way in my inbox :)

aanyways, thank u for being so patient!!! here we go

tw - yandere themes, kidnapping, drugging, semi-realistic violence

˖°.𓆩♡𓆪 .°˖

♡ YAN ! SUBSPACE X READER ♡

˖°.𓆩♡𓆪 .°˖

Your life at BLACKROCK was -- to put it bluntly, a living hell.

Your entire life, all you ever knew from the moment you entered this world and were shipped off to that horrid faction, was violence, war, weaponry, and murder.

You were trained to hurt people. Hurt demons who dared try to question Blackrock. Those who tried to flee, to escape the freezing confines of the place.

Rules were strictly abided to at Blackrock. Make one mistake -- consider yourself a goner. The best outcome was you being thrown in prison, the worst outcome was being slaughtered publicly.

You were made to abide by the rules and silence those who made the smallest of mistakes.

Nobody ever thought you'd break the rules one day yourself.

So when you one day disappeared, having vanished off the face of the Inpherno, Blackrock believed you were a goner.

That was far from the truth.

You knew the ins and outs of the faction, making your escape was relatively easy -- a cakewalk.

As an assassin, you specialized in stealth, speed, and agility. Maneuvering past guards and treading through freezing cold blizzards did not falter your escape in the slightest.

And when you were finally out, taking a deep breath of the fresher, evenly temperature air, you believed to be in the clear, as long as you managed to keep a life of anonymity, what could go wrong?

And you were right -- everything was fine.

Until one day, when mindlessly watching a PHIGHT, you noticed a familiar face participating in the round.

Subspace T. Mine.

You felt your heart stop in the moment.

Back in Blackrock, the two of you hardly had any form of connection. Rarely spoke to one another, as the two of you were on completely different fields of work.

His rambles about discovery and science nonsense made no sense to you. His work partner - Medkit, seemed constantly annoyed by the guy's presence as well.

You always talked to Hyperlaser more often. You still occasionally met up with him and Katana to go out for drinks in Crossroads -- as Hyperlaser was your only friend from Blackrock who swore to keep your existence a secret to that awful, awful faction.

But you did always take note of how Subspace.. stared at you often, whenever the two of you did manage to encounter one another back in Blackrock.

You remember constantly asking him if he needed something, and he'd whip out some awful excuse, saying how he was just "focusing on something next to you" or "staring off into space".

Yet, he always did it often. It got on your nerves.

The guy was .. a little weird. It's no wonder you constantly avoided him.

But Subspace... knew everything about you. Unbeknownst to you.

He'd often send a Biograft to just .. watch as you worked in Blackrock. He was so utterly captivated by the way you'd wipe out any filthy traitors with a single swipe of your blade.

You were so.. powerful -- flawless, perfect.

Subspace wanted everything you had.

Subspace wanted you.

The way their blood would hit your face, your stoic expression unchanged at their screams and cries -- as you silenced them with ease.

He so badly wanted to talk to you. But he could never find the courage to do so, despite his greatness, talking to you was his only flaw.

Medkit was often forced to listen to his constant rambles about you, often tuning it out and focusing on crystal studies.

But oh -- did Subspace just want to bring you in, set you down and tear you open, digging around at your inner workings, watching as your blood would stain his skin.

He needed you.

So when you disappeared, Subspace was devastated.

His work became sloppy, slower, and his emotions became violent.

Medkit suffered the consequences of his outbursts.

Nothing was never enough. Not without you. He needed to see you again -- even if you were some lifeless, rotting corpse in the midst of a blizzard, or if you were out there somewhere, he needed to find you.

So when he felt eyes on him during a PHIGHT match that he'd found himself participating in, he turned his head.

And he saw you.

You looked different. Your appearance was different, but it did not change the fact that your face was the same.

He found you.

The match? Subspace didn't care about some stupid bux anymore. You instantly clouded his mind. Thoughts of you, your face, your skills, your expression -- everything.

He could hardly hold back the manic laughter bubbling in his chest, rising to his throat.

Subspace had found you.

And he wasn't going to lose you again.

Walking home to your apartment in Crossroads late that night was no unusual activity for you. After saying your goodbyes to Hyperlaser and Katana, you strolled down the empty sidewalk, your apartment building only a few blocks away.

The sounds of crickets in the distance, the soft breeze of the night and the lack of any demons around was rather peaceful for you.

Thoughts of seeing Subspace again had almost completely left your mind, the soft buzz of alcohol from drinking earlier had you a little more careless.

But the sudden rustle of a bush from not far behind you shattered the relaxation you were undergoing, as you froze.

As a trained assassin in the past, you had high reflexes. Any slight noise off in the distance; you were trained to take note of, and prepare to defend yourself.

The night grew still.

You swore you heard quick footsteps.

Multiple footsteps. Two people, max.

One sounded.. normal. The other sounded heavier.

Something wasn't right here.

You quickly took a few steps back, not taking your eyes off of the bushes behind you, your dominant hand moving to reach for your gear so that you could summon it--

You were suddenly yanked backwards by cold, rough, metallic hands wrapping around your waist, locking your arms to your sides.

It wasn't a demon's skin that you felt from your assailant.

" TARGET ACQIRED. "

You knew those voices.

Biografts.

A Biograft was holding you still.

" PLEASE DO NOT ATTEMPT TO RESIST. "

You ignored the bucket of bolts, slamming your head back onto the robot's in hopes to damage it enough for it to loosen its grip, allowing you to escape.

As you felt the arms around you begin to loosen, a figure suddenly ran in front of you.

You felt a sharp pinch in your neck.

You screamed.

Not out of pain, you were trained to have a high pain tolerance.

But you weren't an idiot. You were clearly getting kidnapped -- and you'd most likely just got some kind of injection.

A cold hand covered your mouth.

"..shh, shh." a familiar voice -- slightly muffled underneath a mask, spoke. "Don't scream, beloved. I only gave you a small pinch!"

The demon in front of you -- you recognized him instantly with horror.

Subspace.

You -- how -- he actually noticed you earlier?!

You noticed your vision growing foggier and foggier - your brain turning into mush as comprehending thoughts became harder and harder.

no no no no noononono

You felt Subspace move his hand away from your mouth and over towards your cheek, softly caressing it with his thumb.

"Don't panic." Subspace reassured -- his voice becoming quieter and quieter, sounding farther off into the distance as your consciousness was quickly deteriorating. "I'll take good care of you."

The last thing you felt was being slowly lifted up by the Biograft - and your world faded to darkness.

[lt-sparrow]

ok hold on per my last post i will now explain;

WHY THOMAS BARROW FULLY DESERVED HIS REDEMPTION ARC AND MORE:

i’ll start off with the not-so-obvious: thomas offhandedly remarks to ms. baxter that his father was never kind to him. his tone and eagerness to avoid the subject imply to me that he was abused, or at the very least, has a bad relationship with his family. that could give us some insight into why he is so horrid to others during the series (it’s not an excuse by any means, but it is a reason) [also this is kinda a stretch but i’ll say it anyway: he has, in my opinion, a scouse accent, which would mean he’s from manchester or liverpool, somewhere in the west of england. that is also where rjc is from, but i feel like if thomas were from yorkshire, rjc would have put on a yorkshire accent. given the show’s timeline, previous casting errors, and wiki, thomas probably would’ve been about 15-16 when he started at downton, so that suggests to me that he left his home at a young age to travel across the country for work. his father was a clockmaker, so shouldn’t he have had a relatively secure position at his fathers shop? this is, unless his father kicked him out….sorry that’s practically incomprehensible 💀]

he had an affair with the duke of crowborough, which, to me, felt very manipulative, more so from the duke—> thomas in my opinion. it also kinda struck me as though that was thomas’ first serious relationship. he’s clearly never really been loved before, or had affection directed towards him, obviously from his response to baxter’s later treatment of him

he clearly has a substantial amount of self hatred for both his general personality and his sexuality. most, if not all of his behavior can be classified as self destructive and sabotaging, so i believe that is the reason behind much of his ‘villainous’ behavior

as well as that, most (if not all) of his schemes were due to o’briens instruction, and i wouldn’t put it past her to be blackmailing him into doing some of the things

finally, he’s clearly mentally ill. as someone with diagnosed depression, anxiety and ocd, he fits the bill (to me) of depression and anxiety perfectly. many of his actions were probably driven by an unnecessary panic and fear that he felt due to anxiety. His self destructive tendencies can be attributed to depression (end of season six??? hello?? someone help him)

that’s all i just really love my little guy and i want everyone else to understand why. i see myself in him a lot (which is kinda pathetic). I just think he deserves a happy ending with a hot, loving boyfriend (*cough* Richard Ellis *cough*) and to own a cute little tailors shop or a clock shop or something.

[valleyof-goldenlilies]

Se Zaldrizoti’ Prumia - Chapter 7: Father and Daughter (Daemon Targaryen x Tyrell!Reader)

Chapter 7: Father and Daughter

A hunt, a reunion, and a conflict. A normal day in Westeros then.

Se Zaldrīzoti' Prūmia Masterlist | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | 

HOTD Masterlist | Main Masterlist | 

Warnings: Nothing of note, save for parental trauma and a notable lack of Daemon shenanigans.

Word Count: 5.8k words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire and Blood characters, save for Y/N Tyrell, although I did expand on their characterisation, which might deviate from canon. All credit for the characters goes to George RR Martin and the showrunners of HOTD. The GIF above is also not mine, original credit to the creator is stated above. Go check them out! 

A/N: OH MY GOD IM ALIVE???? Yeah, it appears I am 😭 I'm so sorry about the long wait on this chapter, the past two weeks have been wild for me ever since I came back from my vacation. 1. My dad crashed his car? 2. I had like five projects due during the past two weeks and I had to write in a report and evaluation about my project groupmate who essentially did nothing 😐 if I could beat someone's ass without getting suspended, istg... 3. I've been suffering from a lot of chest pains recently, which kinda stopped me from doing my thing for a while 4. I had insane writers block for like a week and it was horrid 😖 but luckily, I'm back now, and hopefully updating more often! And also I've learnt that my classmate is following me on tumblr, I am a little mortified, but hello regardless. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! 💕 no Daemon cameo unfortunately, but he'll be back next chapter, and messier than ever.

lovely dividers credited to @firefly-graphics !

109 years after Aegon's Conquest

The doors to the room burst open, and you stepped in, a little out of breath. Lord Hobert Hightower and the Hand, who were standing closest to the doorway, were engrossed deep in conversation when you walked in, and you heard something along the lines of “It’s only a matter of time before Viserys names him heir.” You try not to frown at that, nodding politely to them before heading over to the crowd gathered over at the other side of the room, cooing at the heir in question: little Aegon, who was celebrating his second nameday. 

“Ah, Y/N!” Viserys exclaimed happily, gesturing for you to come and stand between him and Alicent, whose face was radiant with happiness. Viserys signalled for the wet nurse to step forward, and before you knew it, little Aegon was in your arms, babbling in that toddler frenzy of his. The assemblage of lords and ladies stepped closer to you, much to your discomfort, as you forced a cheerful smile and bounced Aegon up and down in your arms, which made him squeal with delight. “I fear that Aegon might come to see you as his mother sooner or late, Y/N, given how much he adores you.” Viserys claimed. You flush at his words, and Alicent soon steps in, smiling, “Tis true. Aegon always perks up when he’s in your arms.” You were sure you would melt into a puddle if you were subject to any more of their compliments. “You flatter me, Your Graces.” 

In the periphery of your vision, you saw Ser Tyland Lannister attempt to get Viserys’ attention, and you handed back a now fussing Aegon to his nursemaid. Alicent shuffled over to the feast table, and she smiled brightly as you approached. Placing a hand on her swollen belly, your heart fluttered with delight when you felt a slight kick. Though the horrors of childbirth still plagued your mind, being there for Alicent’s relatively smooth birth with Aegon had made your fears lessen a little. 

“How’s the babe?” you ask. “Only active when you’re here, it seems,” Alicent laughed. “They never seem to kick for anyone else other than you. I think they will adore you as much as Aegon does.” You chuckle, stroking Alicent’s belly gently. “What if the kicking is a sign that the babe will dislike me?” Alicent patted your hand, “Definitely not. I have no doubt in my mind that you will be dear to the babe.” she said with conviction. You blush at her words, “You flatter me, Your Grace.” 

“Can someone tell me where in the Seven Hells Rhaenyra might be?” Viserys’ frustrated bellow drew you and Alicent out of your tender moment. Alicent’s face twisted with worry, and you were sure your face was a mirror image of hers. “You came in later than the rest of us. Did you see Rhaenyra anywhere?” You shake your head glumly, “She wasn’t in her chambers, or her apartments.” Alicent sighed in exasperation, “Viserys has questioned nearly every courtier in the room, and not a single one of them has a clue. Where might she be?” You chewed your lip, thinking back to the snippet of conversation you had overheard between the Hand and Lord Hobert. “She’s upset right now. The two of you were…” You refrained from finishing the sentence when you saw Alicent wince. “Do you have any inkling on where she might go to cool off?” “I don’t belie-” A look of realisation dawned in Alicent’s eyes. “You know somewhere?” You ask her urgently. Alicent nodded, “I’ll go find her. You should stay and satiate yourself before the journey.” “Are you sure?” You ask her, concerned. Alicent squeezed your hand gently. “Don’t worry about me. I think I can get Rhaenyra to see reason.” 

You glance pensively at Alicent’s retreating figure. Sighing, you approached the refreshments table, smiling gratefully as a servant handed you a plate with some slices of roast pork. You heard your name being called, and turned around to find Viserys. “Your Grace-” you moved to curtsy, but Viserys stopped you, “I told you, no need for such stuffy courtesies when you are with me.” You smiled wryly, “I thought it wouldn’t apply in a room full of courtiers.” Viserys waved away your words, “You are my family, Y/N. There are no such constraints within your own kin.” You smile sadly at the word ‘family’. It was a little sad to say, but you definitely did feel more of a kinship with the current members of House Targaryen over those of your own house. 

“Speaking of kin,” Viserys’ voice turned serious. “I am in need of a favour from you, Y/N.” You snapped to attention. “Whatever you need, Viserys.” He sighed, looking mournful and irritated at the same time. “It has been nigh three years since I have wedded Alicent. Time after time, I have tried to approach Rhaenyra, but she shuns me away every single time. The rare chances she actually sits down and listens, she sulks like a child and only provides me with short responses.” Viserys sighed again, whatever sadness he had turning into disappointment and exasperation. “This is not the way the heir to the Iron Throne should behave.” He looked at you beseechingly, “I implore you, Y/N. I believe what Rhaenyra needs is for a motherly figure to talk to her, and persuade her to abandon such foolish antics. I fear Alicent would not be able to serve such a role, since Rhaenyra’s ire is directed at the both of us. But you,” You swallowed nervously. “I’ve seen how close Rhaenyra kept you after Aemma’s death. For months, apart from Alicent, you were her closest confidant. I know naught of what has transpired between the two of you, but I believe you to be the best person for this tiresome task. Will you do methis favour?” 

Your expression was resigned, but you forced out a smile nonetheless. “But of course. I will do my best, Viserys.” He closed his eyes in relief, clapping you on the shoulder. “I knew I could count on you, Y/N. Thank you.” You gave a tentative smile back, painfully aware of the numerous eyes glued to the both of you. What you failed to notice, however, were the heavy gazes of Otto and Hobert Hightower on you. 

An awkward silence weighed upon the royal wheelhouse as it made its way to the Kingswood. You glance uncomfortably between Viserys, Alicent, and Rhaenyra, watching with some pity as Viserys attempted to make conversation with his irascible and sullen daughter. A miniature dragon thrust in your face soon drew your attention however, and you looked down to frown admonishingly at little Aegon, who blinked his wide violet eyes at you innocently. The little devil, you were sure he was trying to garner your attention on purpose. Earlier, he had been weeping inconsolably, much to the nursemaid’s and Alicent’s distress. But when you had taken him into your arms, he had ceased his tears immediately and gave you a cherubic smile, which made Alicent give you a knowing smile and Rhaenyra to look at the both of you in disdain. The expression of disdain had yet to depart from Rhaenyra, as you played patiently with Aegon, flying his dragon miniature around him and smiling as the toddler spun his head around to follow the motions of the dragon with rapt fascination. 

The tension in the wheelhouse was not lightening in the slightest bit, as Viserys began talking about Rhaenyra giving him grandchildren, of all things. You had to stop yourself from groaning in exasperation. If Viserys truly wanted to reconnect with Rhaenyra again, why was he digging himself into an even bigger hole? He should know that after Aemma, Rhaenyra would be disinclined to entertain notions of childbirth. You wanted to put your head in your hands, but Aegon poked you in the cheek. 

“No one’s here for me!” Rhaenyra’s angry outburst halted all activity in the wheelhouse, including Aegon’s. You froze, looking up at Rhaenyra, but her bitter gaze was focused solely on her father. All of you endured the rest of the ride in silence. 

The rocking of the wheelhouse soon came to an end. You remained seated as Viserys and Alicent stepped out to the raucous cheers of the crowd, allowing Aegon’s nursemaid to take him from your arms. You remembered Viserys’ plea, and took in Rhaenyra’s wistful expression. “Hail, hail! Aegon the Conqueror babe, Second of His Name!” You grimace when you hear the tasteless remark. 

Rhaenyra’s fists were clenched at her sides, and her eyes were shut. With frustration, or with sadness, she didn’t know. Suddenly, she felt a gentle hand taking her fisted hand and unclenching it. She didn’t need to open her eyes to see who it was. “I don’t need your pity.” Rhaenyra tried to sound snappy, but her voice was hoarse. You didn’t answer, instead intertwining your fingers with Rhaenyra. She reluctantly opened her eyes, only to see you directing a hostile glare to the outside commotion, as more and more voices heralded Aegon as the Second of His Name. Rhaenyra couldn’t help but smile at that, letting some of the tension seep out of her muscles. 

At least there was someone in her dark and lonely corner, even if that someone’s trustworthiness had yet to be ascertained. 

You were sitting next to Alicent, as she held court with the various noble ladies who had attended the hunt. You listened, silently sipping from your goblet as they conversed about the ongoing war in the Stepstones. You watched as Larys Strong and Rhaenyra soon joined in the conversation, though a slight frown of distaste was soon visible on your face, when Lady Lannister and Lady Redwyne in particular, began picking on Rhaenyra. You had to hide a smirk when Rhaenyra made a well-directed jab at Lady Redwyne, and the smirk only widened when you saw her pig-faced dog gobble greedily at the cake on her plate. How fitting. 

“You know, Lady Y/N.” Your head snapped up as Lady Redwyne addressed you. She had a displeased look on her face: clearly she hadn’t missed your smirk at her expense. “I was…pleasantly surprised to hear Her Grace appointed you as her chief lady-in-waiting.” Your eyes narrowed, your dormant prickly nature coming to life once more. “It was a great honour, Lady Joselyn. One that I am greatly grateful to Her Grace for.” 

Lady Redwyne gave you a smile, that you knew from all your years of court politics, was filled with ill intent. “I must say, if you were out in the battlefield fighting on the Stepstones, the war would be won by now.” You felt Alicent stiffen next to you, and you instinctively reached out to put your hand on hers. “What are you insinuating, Lady Redwyne?” Alicent’s tone was sharper than usual. Lady Redwyne attempted to school her features back to deference, but her lips were curved upwards. “Forgive me, Your Grace. I was not attempting to insinuate anything. It was a compliment to Lady Y/N.” You levelled a fierce glare at her, but she seemed unaffected, looking at you straight in the eye. “It is a well known fact that she and Prince Daemon had tempers that rivalled each other. With such willfulness, she would make a formidable opponent on the battlefield, would she not?” 

You were about to deliver an equally cutting and backhanded response, but you were surprised when you heard Rhaenyra speak up once more, “Yes, Lady Redwyne. But as luck would have it, she is the Queen’s lady-in-waiting now.” Rhaenyra’s tone was acidic. “And I am certain that she will carry out her duties with skill and grace. The Queen will not be able to find someone as capable as her.” 

The ladies were stunned that Rhaenyra had spoken up for you, none more so than you and Alicent. “The princess is right. Lady Y/N has been a dutiful lady-in-waiting and companion. The Seven have truly blessed me with her.” Your eyes water with gratitude, as Lady Redwyne and the other ladies fall silent after both the princess and the queen’s swift defence of you.

So this was what kinship felt like. 

Night had fallen, and the air was ablaze with the smell of smoke. You had sat faithfully by Alicent all day, as she entertained lords and ladies alike. You had not seen Rhaenyra in quite some time though, and you worry about where she could have wandered off to. Your anxiety only increased tenfold when you saw Viserys’ goblet never straying from his hand, and he had been lifting it to his lips moreso after his conversations with the Hand, Jason Lannister, and Lyonel Strong, in particular. Alicent was clearly on edge as well, her brown eyes watchful as she witnessed her husband lose himself in his cups. When Viserys abruptly left the tent after a brief, yet intense conversation with Lyonel Strong, Alicent got up to go after him, but you gently pushed her back down to her seat, giving her a reassuring look. She should not need to see her husband in such a misbegotten state, while in her pregnancy, you thought to yourself, as you wrapped your shawl around you, shivering in the cold night air. 

You eventually found Viserys by the huge bonfire, downing yet another goblet of wine, while being guarded by two Kingsguard. They nodded at you as you passed. You went straight to Viserys, taking the cup whilst he was distracted. “I think that’s enough for you tonight, Viserys.” Your voice was soft, yet firm. He gave you an enervated smile. “The night is cold, you shouldn’t be out here.” You hand the goblet over to a Kingsguard. “Who will look after you, then? And make sure you do not drink yourself into a stupor?” Viserys laughed heartily, before he coughed. You reach for him, concerned. He stared into the flames, looking like he wanted to step into them himself. “Y/N.” “Hmm?” Viserys took a deep breath, trying to control the slurring in his voice. “What do you think is the foundation of House Targaryen’s strength?” 

You tilt your head to the side questioningly, “That is a trick question, right? Of course, the answer is House Targaryen’s dragons.” Viserys smiled ruefully, turning over to face you. You were taken aback by the blazing intensity, perhaps even madness in his eyes. “You’re wrong, Y/N. It began with a dream.” He turned back to face the fire. “When Daenys the Dreamer had the dream that prophesied the end of the Valyrian Freehold, that dream saved House Targaryen. While all the other dragonlords were destroyed, it was only us who survived.” “I know of that tale. Your grandsire told us that tale when we were younger.” 

Viserys didn’t seem to hear you, however, his bleak gaze still on the fire. “In my line, many had been dragonriders. Very few among us have been dreamers. What is the power of dragons, next to the power of prophecy?” You shivered, and not because of the cold. Yet you continue listening. “When Rhaenyra was a child, I saw it in a dream. As vivid as these flames, I saw it. A male babe, born to me, wearing the Conqueror’s crown. And I so wanted it to be true, to be a dreamer myself. I sought that vision again, night after night…but it never came again. I poured all my thought and will into it. And my obsession killed Aemma.” You looked away at that, your heart wrenched with grief.  “I thought Rhaenyra was the way out of my abyss of grief and regret. That naming her heir would set things right.” 

“Are you saying you regret naming Rhaenyra heir then?” Viserys looked grieved. “Oftentimes, yes…I have. I worried that I had named Rhaenyra out of anger towards Daemon, not out of love, or for the good of the realm.” He moved to grip your shoulders, tears in his eyes. “Y/N, I never imagined that I would remarry. That I would have a son. What if…what if I was wrong all along?” 

You stared into his despair-filled eyes. “I cannot tell you if you’re wrong, Viserys. There are only two paths ahead of you now, and as King, you must be prepared to take one, and soon.” Viserys chuckles, drooping his head. “What if I’m not sure what path I should take?” Your voice was quiet. “Then the realm will descend into chaos.” 

The both of you were silent, staring at each other in the firelight. While you couldn’t say that you approved of Viserys’ decisions in the past three years, after all this, he was your friend, and he was just a mere mortal, plagued by regrets, grief, and hesitation. Just like you, and everyone else. Even kings were not infallible to weakness, you surmised. And in that moment, there was a mutual understanding and grievance shared between the both of you: the burden of choice. 

The morrow brought about clear skies and sun, much to the delight of the lords partaking in the hunt. It did not alleviate your worries however, as Rhaenyra still had not returned to the encampment. You found yourself milling about today, much too tired to suffer the thinly veiled jabs the fellow noblewomen were directing at you about your infamous temper. 

You were dressed in a simpler riding outfit today, to mingle around with the various smallfolk and merchants that had set up stalls in the encampment, hoping eagerly to attract some lord’s attention and earn a few gold dragons. You beamed as you sampled a rather delicious roast pork skewer, giving the stall owner - a rather plump woman - two golden dragons, much to her glee. You strode back to the main tent, feeling satisfied, when you suddenly heard the sound of hooves. You turned your head as a palomino horse skidded to a halt, and a familiar man, with more grey hairs than he had the last time you saw him, dismount from the horse and take off his riding gloves. His eyes light up as soon as he catches sight of you, and without giving you a window to escape, he strode towards you. You chew your lip in dread as he approached. 

“Father.” 

“Y/N.” He beams at you, his eyes crinkled at the corners. You smile awkwardly at him, fidgeting with your fingers. His smile falters a little when he notices your hesitation. “I haven’t seen you in years, daughter. Does this momentous occasion not warrant a hug?” You inwardly sigh, and reach out to embrace your father. Your father grins at you as you pull away after an awkward pause. “You have grown, daughter. You look beautiful.” “You flatter me, Father.” “Come, walk with me. We have much to talk about.” You swallowed, but followed as he set out for the forested edge of the campground. 

The both of you strode in silence for a while, before you ventured to break the silence. “The King didn’t mention you would be joining us for the hunt, Father. Why the sudden change of heart?” He sighed. “Can an old man not choose to be in nature once in a while?” “Of course you can, father. I was just concerned: you are no longer in the pink of health, and riding all the way from Highgarden to the Kingswood is a gruelling journey.” Your father waved his hand dismissively. “Twas nothing. I might be getting on in my years, but I recently found a new source of reinvigoration.” 

“Oh?” you cocked your head curiously. You sincerely hoped the new source of reinvigoration was not a new bid for your hand. Your father smiled, “I recently remarried to Lady Clarice of House Fossoway.” Seeing your confused look, he hurried to clarify. “Of Cider Hall.” Surprise creased your features. “But…wasn’t that Mother’s maiden house? Lady Clarice was her cousin, was she not?” Your father’s smile was beginning to look strained. “Does it matter, daughter? What matters is that I am happy with her, is it not? And I am certain she will give me strong sons soon.” You regard him with a degree of caution, noting the shift in his voice. In your years of dealing with court politics, you could instinctively tell when a situation was about to go from bad to worse. “I did not know you had any plans on remarrying after Mother’s death.” 

“And whose fault is that, daughter?” Your father’s tone turned chiding. “I know you’ve been ignoring all the ravens I’ve sent to you over the past few years. Specifically, those with letters attached from me pleading for you to just find yourself a match at court or select one of the eligible lords in the lists I sent you.” You blushed, looking sheepish. Matthos sighed. “Daughter, you are no longer young. It is past time you are wed. I only want what’s best for you.” 

“But-” you blurted out, “What if I don’t think getting married is what’s best for me, Father?” Your father looked askance at that. “What else could a young lady such as yourself desire other than marriage?” You bit your lip, “Father, the truth is…I do not think I have a desire to wed now…or ever.” You were beginning to get anxious as your father’s face lost some of his paternal tenderness. “Five years. I had hoped that our time apart had given you some time to reflect on your…misconceptions.” He gripped your shoulders, an intense blaze in his eyes as your heart began to thud with dread. “The matter of marriage is not one that you can dismiss so easily anymore, Y/N. It entails the survival and future of House Tyrell. You must do your duty and wed a respectable lord, for the sake of our house.” Though you had heard those words aplenty, today, it was like something uninhibited had seized control of you, as you burst out. “Why should I care about doing my duty to House Tyrell?” you snapped. “I have made it clear that it is not my intention to ever take a husband, now and in the foreseeable future. You claim this is all done for my own happiness. So why can’t you just respect my wishes?” 

“Because you are not just some poxy peasant who can gallivant about as you please. You are my daughter!” You were shocked when your father suddenly raised his voice. Trepidation had dimmed your previous righteousness. He tightens his grip on your shoulders, his expression filled with an anger you had never glimpsed before. This…this was not the father you remember. The father you knew had never once raised his voice at you, always treating you with patience as his only child. Though he was prone to bouts of frustrated pleading when you did not acquiesce to his wishes to get married, he had never once shouted at you like that. Or even gripped your shoulders with such forcefulness you feared he might strike you. “You are just as useless as your late mother.” You were stunned, your eyes searing with hot tears. “Do not insult Mother like that. She was the most wonderful woman-” “Wonderful, you say?” your father snorted. “If she were so wonderful, then she would have provided me with a strong and healthy son to succeed me! Instead, she left me with a daughter who is ungrateful and strangely determined to remain a spinster all her life.” he spat out the words with such vitriol that you were taken aback. “If she were so wonderful,” your father continued with his rant. “Then would House Tyrell be in imminent danger of collapsing, all because the only heirs I have are your incompetent, doltish cousins who will run the legacy our ancestors and I have built to the ground?” He moved to clasp your hand tightly in his, looking desperate and angry all at once. “Daughter, your father is imploring you. You must get wed, and provide me with a grandson. You cannot let House Tyrell go to ruin.” You stare at him, feeling beleaguered. “Do my wishes mean nothing to you?” “This is because your wishes are obscenely unreasonable, Y/N.” your father snaps. “It is practically unheard of for a woman of your status to not wed.” “It is not!” you insisted, “I am the chief lady-in-waiting to the Queen now, I have duties I must perform. And there have been histories of lords whose daughters were largely spinsters. Moreover, you have remarried.” Your voice became desperate as you tried to make your father see reason. “Lady Clarice is young, she will give you many sons in due time. Suitable heirs to Highgarden. I do not understand why you are putting all this pressure on me.” You took a deep breath, preparing to make your final stand. “I want to enjoy the rest of my youth, Father. Not to sit in a castle, entrapped in a loveless marriage and pumping out potential heirs for my husband and for you. I want to live my life, free of constraints.” You looked at him, unshed tears in your eyes. “Please, father. This is the one thing I have ever asked of you, and that is to respect my wishes.” 

Matthos was silent for a long while, and you held hope, briefly, that you might have gotten through to him with your pleading. “Foolish, insolent girl!” Your hopes were dashed as your father flung off your hand, shouting at you. “How can you be so selfish? To not take responsibility in ensuring the continuation of our house’s line?” “That is your responsibility, not mine!” you shouted back. Seeing that pleas would not get to your father now, you resorted to fighting fire with fire instead. “Had you really cared about continuing our house’s bloodline, you would’ve remarried years ago!” You could see how your shouts were drawing the attention of some courtiers, given how close the both of you were to the camp for royals. You heard the faint sound of hooves behind you, but you ignored them, too engrossed in your argument with your father. “Producing heirs is a lord’s responsibility. So if you are accusing me of not doing my duty, you should first be reprimanding yourself.” 

Your father’s face grew red. “You little brat! How dare you say these things about your father!” “I spoke only the truth,” you shot back. He raised his hand, and for a moment you were afraid he was going to slap you for your outburst. Instead, he went to grip your shoulders again, “For years, I have raised you, clothed you in the finest silks, fed you, and put up with your ridiculous whims and wants! I’ve been patient, I’ve been loving and understanding when you rejected all the marriage offers you received. I’ve pleaded, and even given you the time and freedom to find a more suitable match at court. Yet you cannot even perform your duty as my daughter. No longer.” Your heart stuttered a little. “What do you mean?” Your father gave you a cold look. “I’m saying, if you do not get married by the end of the year, you are no longer my daughter.” Your eyes widen with horror. “I will effectively disown and disinherit you from House Tyrell, and if I sire any children by Lady Clarice, they shall not support you either.” 

Your voice was tremulous, “Father, you…you cannot be serious. Do not let your anger cloud your judgement.” Matthos Tyrell looked at his daughter, his face one of disgust. “You wanted to enjoy your youth without constraints. And since you seem to enjoy being lady-in-waiting to the Queen so much, I’m only granting you what you wished for, am I not?” 

You stepped back, feeling winded by your father’s words. However, you nearly jumped when you felt a familiar hand on your shoulder. “Ah, Y/N!” You were not sure whether you felt more mortified or relieved for Viserys’ timely presence. “Your Grace!” Immediately, your father’s distaste gave way to deference, as he straightened his posture and bowed before the King. You inclined your head respectfully, wondering if Viserys had overheard your conversation. “Forgive me for interrupting your conversation.” Oh, he definitely overheard. 

“There’s nothing to forgive, Your Grace. I am delighted to be in your presence.” Your father gushed on profusely, as Viserys stepped toward him. You hung your head, still abashed by your father’s threats, when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder once more. Alicent smiled at you understandingly, and you grimaced when you realised she had also overheard the unpleasant exchange. Still, you shot her a grateful look for her show of support. 

“I must offer you my sincerest felicitations for Prince Aegon’s second nameday, Your Grace.” Viserys laughed, “Your felicitations are greatly appreciated, Lord Matthos. I must extend you mine as well, for your recent remarriage. I see it is treating you well.” Your father beamed, “You are too kind, Your Grace. And indeed, my lady wife pleases me so. Now, the only thing that would make me the happiest man in the realm would be my daughter finally settling down with a respectable match.” You stiffened at that, something Alicent took notice of, and she offered you a sympathetic look. Viserys chuckled, “That you and I can both agree on, Lord Matthos. There is nothing more I desire right now than seeing Rhaenyra being wed to a deserving man who will treat her right.” 

“Oh, I am sure Her Grace will have her pick of men. She is ‘The Realm’s Delight’, after all. Any man who weds her will be a lucky one.” Your father’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial tone, as he glanced at you. “Moreover, Her Grace is young, comely, and lovely to behold.” Matthos sighed, shaking his head as he chuckled, “Mine own daughter is not in possess of such qualities, I’m afraid. She is getting on with her years, and though I love her deeply, as her father, I must admit she has quite a temper on her. She's not quite the attractice match, which gives me a headache,” Matthos jested with the King, causing you to wince and look away. Alicent looked disconcerted at your father’s tasteless jesting, tightening her hold on your shoulder. However, the both of you did not notice the flare of annoyance behind Viserys’ eyes, so his next words surprised the both of you. 

“Lady Y/N has been nothing but a delight to have at court, Lord Matthos. In spite of her age, I’m sure she has no shortage of suitors.” Viserys’ voice was amiable, polite, yet it carried an undertone of firmness and reprimand such that Matthos looked a little stunned, worried that he had overstepped. You looked back to the pair, your eyes wide with disbelief. “And should Y/N ever find herself unwilling to marry, the Red Keep will always welcome her. She is like family to me, after all.” Your father fell silent, and you locked eyes with Viserys, looking lost, yet appreciative all the same. Viserys gave you a reassuring smile, and you could see the sincerity behind his intent. Your eyes prickled with touched tears, but the moment was interrupted when you heard shouts across the campground, startling your party. You turned around, only to behold the sight of Rhaenyra, stained head to toe with dried blood, a commanding aura in her swagger as her sworn shield, Ser Criston, trailed behind her, along with two servants carrying a dead boar. You lock eyes with her momentarily, and she gives a small nod of acknowledgement to you, although her eyes turned cold when they looked upon her father. You heard Viserys sigh, and you saw how Viserys looked both annoyed and relieved for Rhaenyra’s safety, while your father just looked bewildered, perhaps even a little scared. Despite yourself, you smiled a little at the scene. 

Alicent and you were chatting in her chambers, laughing in hushed tones as you rocked Aegon to sleep in your arms, when the Hand entered the room, requesting to speak with Alicent. You handed a sleepy Aegon to his nursemaid, before curtsying and exiting the room, painfully aware of the Hand’s weighty gaze upon you as you did. 

Alicent knew that her father had not visited her out of a gesture of goodwill, and as she listened to his rather maddening reasoning that Alicent should attempt to make her husband see reason and name Aegon heir, she only stayed silent. There was no point in countering back anyway - the Hand always seemed to have a dozen other reasons to quell her opposition. She felt uncomfortable, for speaking of this was treason, and the babe shifted in her belly, causing her to sigh. 

Otto observed his daughter, noting with mild exasperation that she wasn’t paying heed to anything he was saying. So, he decided to change the subject. “About your lady-in-waiting…” he began. Alicent’s head snapped up, “What do you wish to discuss of Y/N?” Otto let a smile play over his lips: it was quite evident his daughter cared for the Tyrell lady, and from his further observations over the past three years, treated her akin to a maternal figure. Which might make it easier for her to accept what he proposed next. “I overheard a rather…interesting conversation she had, with Lord Matthos today.” Alicent showed no visible reaction, but she stared at her father, feeling an all-too-familiar feeling of dread settle in her gut. “I think half the campground overheard their argument. What of it?” 

Otto hummed softly, “It seems her father is worrying about her marriage. Which is a reasonable worry - she is on the cusp of her twenty fifth nameday, is she not?” Alicent nodded slowly, eyeing her father with caution. She knew him all too well, how he was tapping his fingers on the armrests of his chair - he was scheming. She recalled how upset you were when you spoke with your father, citing your dreams to enjoy your youth and be freed of the constraints of marriage. In later years, she had come to both see you as a cherished companion and a parental figure of sorts, and she cared for you, deeply so. You were her only source of comfort in the Red Keep, one who did not expect or demand anything of her, someone she felt she could truly be open with. She glanced fearfully at her father. 

She had to put an end to this. She must save you from suffering the same fate she did. 

“Father…you are not planning on taking a new wife, are you?” Alicent fidgeted with her fingers nervously, her eyes fixed on Otto. He was quiet for a long while, and in response to her question, he only stood up and went over to his daughter, placing a hand on her swollen belly. His cryptic answer disturbed Alicent. “You worry too much over matters that do not need worrying about, daughter. Your concern now, should be Aegon. Raise him well, and raise him strong. He shall be an important man one day.”

Come the morrow, the Godswood was completely devoid of any life. Which proved to be a boon to you, who was seeking some reprieve from the busy atmosphere of the Red Keep and the somewhat maddening task of having to feed Aegon -  due to his tendency of smooshing the food in the face of whomever had the misfortune of feeding him, most commonly you. 

You sat on the stone bench, staring despondently at the Godswood tree. While you were never particularly religious, either to the Seven or to the Old Gods, the happenings of the hunt have driven you to pray with increasing fervency these days. What you prayed for, you did not know. Was it for the hope that your father’s heart might soften and he might be persuaded to leave you be for the rest of your life? You scoffed to yourself, knowing how improbable it was. Fiddling with the pendant - Aemma’s pendant, you sighed, tilting your head downwards to the ground. 

You were startled when you heard movement next to you, of another soul taking a seat next to you on the bench, her posture ramrod straight, and her expression blank. Rhaenyra’s linen sleeves fluttered slightly in the breeze. 

“I suppose neither of us are in the best of spirits,” Rhaenyra’s voice was stilted, like she was reluctant to break the silence first. You lifted your head upright, looking at her with a tentative smile, “No, I suppose we aren’t.” An awkward silence highlighted the chasm between the two of you. You wondered, had this truly been the girl of fourteen who confided in you about everything? Now, it seems there is a stark contrast to the Rhaenyra you once knew to the Rhaenyra before you. Though of course, you were to be blamed for that. 

“My father has just ordered me to embark on a tour of the realm. A marriage tour.” Rhaenyra’s bitter tone roused you from your thoughts. “I do not know why I’m telling you this. Perhaps it’s because you are the only person in the Keep who might have the slightest sympathy for what I’m going through.” Rhaenyra’s voice lowered to a slightly malicious pitch, but there was no disguising the hurt behind her voice. “Or maybe it would be false sympathy. But it is better than none.” 

You winced, wanting to reach out and take Rhaenyra’s hand, the way you knew she loved. Physical touch was Rhaenyra’s favourite way of receiving and expressing affection. A wane smile pulled at your lips as you heard her words, “You might be cynical, but I have more sympathies to your plight than you might think, Princess.” Rhaenyra was surprised by the resignation in your tone. She recalled the scene she had seen when she returned to the royal encampment at the hunt that day. “...does it have something to do with your father?” 

You let out a sad laugh, “Indeed. I have been forced into a situation much more precarious than yours, I would say. My father has given me an ultimatum: I must wed by the end of this year, or I shall be effectively disinherited and disowned as a member of House Tyrell.” Rhaenyra’s eyes widened, her stance immediately shifting to one of sympathy and guilt. “Does your father jest?” “I’m afraid not,” you remark with a despaired, cynical laugh, “Father’s patience has worn thin when it comes to me, I’m afraid. I should’ve known it foolish to think that I could escape from the ramifications of duty to my House.” 

You were a little mortified to find your eyes prickling with tears. In truth, you were frightened to the bone. Two paths were set in stone before you now, and neither were pleasant. Rhaenyra hesitated for a while, before reaching out to take your hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. You were startled by her sudden gesture, as the flood of familiarity rushed through your veins. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, “This is a horrible situation to find yourself in.” She looked hesitant, “I know you’ve always been of your own mind, Y/N. I just want you to know…that you are not alone. Should the worst come…I’m sure that my father will not turn you away in your hour of need.” Her lips turned upwards wistfully, “I will not too. The both of us are stuck in similar predicaments, are we not? Daughters forced to marry off at our father’s behest. We must stick together.” 

“...thank you,” you said quietly, touched, “I do not deserve your kindness, after all I have hidden from you.” Rhaenyra’s smile turns somewhat bitter, “What is done cannot be undone. What matters now is the future.” 

The cool metal of Aemma’s pendant dug into the flesh of your palm, as an idea came to you. “I have something for you,” Rhaenyra’s eyebrows shot up and her eyes grew misty as you presented the ruby falcon pendant to her. “I think this belongs to you. I’ve been holding onto it for the past few years, but I think it’s time you have it back.” Rhaenyra takes the pendant, clasping it to her chest as she looked mournfully down at it. “I thought it was naught but ashes now.” You bit your lip, seeing how relieved yet pained Rhaenyra looked made you regret not giving it to her sooner. You had clung onto it for selfish reasons over the past few years, unwilling to let go of Aemma. But now, you felt it was time to let go of the past, and brave on into the future. “I hope that having this piece of Aemma would make you feel more comforted on your marriage tour.” 

Rhaenyra’s eyes were misty, as she clasped the pendant like it was worth all the spice and gold from the shores of Essos. “Y/N.” Rhaenyra said quietly. “Hmm?” “Do you think…that Mother would’ve been proud of the person I am today?” Rhaenyra swallowed, looking downcast. “...I fear that, ever since I was named heir, since…Aegon was born, Father’s disappointment in me has been growing by the day.” “And why would you think that?” you asked, concerned. Rhaenyra took a shaky inhale, “I know that Father did not name me heir out of choice. It was a critical time, after Daemon had left, and the Realm would be plunged into unease upon the disinheritance of my uncle from the line of succession.” She bit her lip. “Father even told me as much. He said he had wavered at the notion of making me heir.” Your eyes flickered with shock and a little bit of righteous anger. “He said that?” Rhaenyra nodded miserably, and you patted her sympathetically on the shoulder. “He told me he would never waver again, but it is a little hard to put my faith in that, with….with Aegon’s shadow looming over me.” Rhaenyra sighed, tilting her head upwards. ”I just…I wish I could do something to be better. To prove to Father that I’m not just the right choice to the throne because he named me heir when he had no choice. I want to show him that I possess the qualities to rule the throne. The marriage tour would be a start, but I just detest the idea of having to bind myself to some lord to prove my worthiness to the throne.” 

“I understand how you feel,” you commiserated, and she rested her head on your shoulder. “The expectations of a woman’s duty often cast a shadow over our lives.” Rhaenyra closed her eyes, feeling at ease with you, even if it were just for a brief moment. “Mother was fond of saying that marriage is a woman’s duty, and childbed is our battlefield. Especially as royal women,” Rhaenyra’s voice was thick with emotion. “I understand I must do this, for the good of the realm, but…why is it so terrifying? To have my worth determined on my husband and the number of children I can bear in service to him and the realm.” The setting sun glistened off a tear slowly making its way down Rhaenyra’s cheek. “Y/N, do you think my mother would be proud, watching me doubt her teachings?” 

You reached out to wipe her tear away, your other hand’s thumb gently stroking her hand that you still held. “You are her daughter, Rhaenyra. I have no doubt that you could be the most dastardly miscreant, and she would be proud of you nonetheless.” That got a bleak smile from Rhaenyra, “Truly?” You nodded your confirmation, smiling fondly down at her. “Truly. Though luckily, your moral character is rather upright.” Rhaenyra laughed, and you smiled, happy to have made her laugh. “Thank you, Y/N. Truly. You have no idea how much that means to me.” Rhaenyra whispered to you.  

The two women stayed like this in the Godswood for a while, each swarmed by their own thoughts. So different, yet so similar in their impending doom, and duty.

Taglist: @drwho-ess @graniairish @urmomsgirlfriend1 @thelittleswanao3 @animelover18 @llovinjoonie @gracielikegrapes @salembridger @itszzmoon @kmmg98 @travelingmypassion @zae5 @norestfortheshelbywicked @soleilgrec @anehkael @midnightprincess18 @lilith--666​

Daemon General Taglist: @aiyaiy @kmmg98 @norestfortheshelbywicked @hb8301 

those who are bolded are those who couldn’t be tagged! let me know if you wish to be added to the taglist in the comments or through this form! 

A/N: All I gotta say is: ruh roh, trouble is brewing. If you have made it this far, thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed this chapter, comments and reblogs are highly appreciated. I aim to release chapter 8 by next Wednesday, hopefully something unprecedented doesn't happen before then though.

[tategaminu]

People find Alastor sexy because he’s a generic ass tumblr sexyman bait which is the only “sexy” male character design that Vivziepop can do

That makes it even worse, maybe it is a me because I have never understood Tumblr sexy man culture, I’m more into pretty boys/bishounen designs and Idgf about the chosen tumblr sexy ones honestly! at this point I don’t even know if it’s a joke or not, like do people really find Sans Undertale attractive? I guess that one is a joke right? It’s a joke… right?

Anyways, tumblr sexy man category aside, Alastor isn’t attractive on his own. As you said all of Medrano's "sexy" male designs pretty much look the same and all of them are ugly and over-designer imo, and Alastor is probably one of the worst ones. He looks like an used tampon (long, thin and red), I refuse to believe this guy should wet my panties.

Personality also has a lot to do when I find a character good looking or not, if their personality is horrid I probably won’t like them as much so it doesn’t help that most of HB/HH characters are terrible people, and surprise suprise he is a serial murder and a cannibal? Yeah NO THANKS, get this fucko away from me, I can enjoy a good villain but that doesn't mean I have to get horny over them.

Coming back to the deer thing, I’m sorry but the only deer trait here is the antlers and he doesn't even have them most of the time, also he is not menacing at all, he looks like a crepypasta deviantart oc

Deer are kinda metal, they can be really creepy and you can make them pretty intimidating:

This dude from Adventure Time is a brown blorb and he still makes me more uncomfortable than Alasstor

The Nowhere King FUCKS

Those deer from this comic are super rad, (one of my favourite comics!)

As someone who draws animals in a daily basis it baffles me how none of Vivz's "animal" characters look like the animal they are representing.

In a summary, I hate Alasstor (maybe not as much as Stolass) I bet he's gonna be the least interesting little shit in the whole series.

[femmefighter]

18, 19, and 20 for the Star Wars ask game, liebling~

I'm so sorry bbygirl, I did say I'm hopeless with my inbox and I'd probably take a while to get my shit back together. But here we go!!

18. Favourite/Least Villain

Favourite: Alright, Maul's always been firmly in this category. Little drama queen. He's got it so bad for Kenobi. He's fit. He's a survivor. He's been through such horrid abuse at the hands of Sidious. I just wanna give him a hug, pay for his therapy, and hopefully attend his marriage to Kenobi in a few years' time. But since getting into the Thrawn books, blue Chiss boy has shot right up there. I still have massive issues with how he was written in the Ahsoka series, but Timothy Zahn's canon novels are spectacular. To the point where I kinda don't want to put him in the 'villain' category. But considering my introduction to him was in Rebels, where he was such a brilliant opponent for Hera and the gang, he does need to stay here. (Fingers and toes crossed for a redemption arc, but I know I'm dreaming...) Least Favourite: Palpatine. Not that I feel like he's a 'poorly' made character. Complete opposite! I just think he's the devil incarnate and needs to die horrible, painful deaths over and over again.

19. Favourite/Least Favourite Outfit

I've already answered this one, but considering it's been over a month since I did, here, have the copy and paste 😂

Favourite: Live-action Ahsoka’s outfits. Yes, even that poncho that hides her gorgeous deltoids from view. It looks so damn cosy. I love that those outfits give those tiny, tantalising hints of skin whilst still being modest and practical. They’re minimalistic in a way a Fulcrum operative would be, but with some random personal touches that we don’t fully understand yet (Like those beads at her belt. Are they meant to be her old padawan braid? Or Sabine’s padawan braid? Are they just rhythm beads? It’s anyone’s guess at this stage!) But mostly, she just looks comfortable. And since owning both the Adidas wrestling shoes from her white outfit and the Tabi shoes from her dark one, I can attest that they are so damn comfortable whilst also feeling like I could run over any terrain or kick some bad guys’ butts. I’m totally here for it.

Also, Mother Aniseya’s outfit. There’s just so much damn detail to that garb. The fabric. The layers. I love it. Also looks like it would be a cosplayer’s nightmare.

Least favourite: This is probably going to get me cancelled, but I must speak my truth. Leia’s first outfit, the white robe. The “Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi” one. It looks like a bedsheet. There. I said it. I don’t mind the whole idea of a plain white dress that covers her up, I just hate whatever fabric they used. How it hangs. Just screams worn-out bedsheet. And fuck trying to keep that thing clean.

Also, the padawan boob-tube. ‘Soka, babes. Just no. This isn’t Friday night discoteca. This is the military. Put your teenage midriff away and go find yourself something with pockets. You’ll need them.

20. Favourite/Least Favourite Creature

Favourite: DON'T MAKE ME CHOOSE!!! I love animals, so much. And that extends to all the creatures in the GFFA, in all their weird, wonderfully different quirks. But I'll narrow it down to three. Love the howlers from Peridea - big, dumb, friendly over-sized dogs that I can ride into battle. Perfection! But also the Lothcat/Tookas. And the Tauntauns of Hoth. Give me one of each, please.

Least Favourite: those fucking giant spiders from that ice planet in the Mandalorian. FUCK THAT!!!

[quirkle2]

I’ll bite, what about your blue exorcist fic are you excited to share?

OHHBOY YIPPEE

i should preface this with the fact that i've only seen s1 of the show and i don't plan on watching the rest (MAYBE ill read the manga one day. i'm not much of a manga reader tho) i like s1's version of the story. so this is based off of that timeline, i guess

it's basically about yukio finding comfort in the fact that he is very different from his brother bc based on Society most of rin's attributes are "negative" (brash, loud, reckless, easily distracted, a bit stupid sometimes) and most of yukio's attributes are "positive" (focused, ambitious, well-behaved, well-spoken, polite). he takes pride in all that; he Likes that he's the "good" brother. but then he starts paying more attention to rin and seeing how there's good in his "bad" behavior, and he learns that putting values on attributes like yukio (and society) has been doing is.unproductive and harmful.

he mostly sees this through little moments where the twins' opinions on demons differ. yukio is an exorcist, and a very good one, and he feels accomplished when he kills a demon. rin, on the other hand, has started to show that he rly doesn't like killing demons, and he'd rather make friends with them instead. yukio starts listening to rin, starts seeing how gentle he treats these demons, how a simple soft voice can get them to calm a little, and he realizes with absolute horror that rin might be right to not treat them like monsters. and if rin is right about This, that means that like 80% of yukio's identity is wrong.

he defines himself as the guy who exorcises demons to keep his brother safe, as the guy who exterminates pests to make the world better. but then his brother is gentle with them and shows them love and acts genuinely hurt when people call him names just bc he's half demon. yukio is a little late to realize it, but it kinda hits him that he's built his personality off of hating demons, all in the name of keeping a member of said demons safe. his brother is a good person, with complex ins and outs. his brother is also a demon.

some of them are dangerous, yes, but true cross academy has taught generations upon generations of people that exorcising them is the only way to solve that issue. yukio learns, thanks to rin, that that is purely false. just made up lies.

yukio learns to redefine "demon" in his head, not to something horrid, or spiteful, but something neutral, just a thing that is. but boy does he have a crisis abt what that means for him and his entire career, purpose, and future

and !!!!!!!!! IMPORTANT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i treat yukio RIGHT in this fic. i've seen so many fics on ao3 where yukio is just.an asshole. an unlikable, irredeemable, heartless fucking Dickhead and i've HAD it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! up to here‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️ idk WHAT the fuck happens in the manga for so much of the fanbase to hate him so badly (there is an entire yukio okumura bashing tag. it'sthat bad guys) but my s1 yukio would fucking never.he would never. am i in the wrong? am i foolish to complain, when i'm the fan that attaches herself to s1 and Nothing Else like a koala and stays there, unwilling to face the fact that s1 yukio is not technically canon yukio? perhaps. maybe i Am in the wrong. but goddammit i rly like s1 yukio oka y

i treat himfucking right. i beat him up and he reacts like he would in s1 canon (dickhead remarks and heartless moments included!!!! they're important!!) but he is NOT a soul-sucking character.he is a traumatized 15 year old who's just trying to protect his brother, even when he's still grappling with what his brother is, and learning to accept it despite how he's been raised. yes he is a bit mean and definitely a hard-ass. but i will make Damn sure that his love for rin bleeds through every other fucking line. because that is Correct and Who Yukio Is.can u tell i feel strongly abt this

also sorry robin for putting u on blast but i saw ur tags and . you🫵.you get it.you understand.

[astradyke]

okay hi i'm Back Here again general thoughts of my own :3

I - i think the board game is going to be a definite thing happening, possibly alongside or in lieu of a new merch drop, but i don't think it's going to be the big project. if we're going off of dan's later and a little bit after that or whatever strange thing he said, i could see this as being one of those two, alongside something bigger. i know someone said in someone's inbox (sorry horrid memory) that Relatable took on new copyrights so i think this is near definite

II - i could see how they're gearing up for a tour in the sense that we're in the d&p renaissance but i genuinely don't think they'll even start ramping up for a tour until at least next year. dan wrapped up WAD like a few months ago and we're so new into the consistent content gig that switching into the rhythm of a tour feels weird. that being said i think most likely, 2025/6 d&p tour that is (potentially) their last collab tour.

III - i think if DINOK is going to happen it's gonna be a book and i'm pretty confident on this? in which case i would actually genuinely read it; i love d&p so bear w even though this sounds like a haterism but i actually don't love their on stage scripted comedy sometimes so it would be a win for me if DINOK was a book (also think he's maybe hinted at this?)

IV - i think the odds of them doing a film/series of some kind is HIGHLY LIKELY and personally i would annihilate this i would be ripping at it with my teeth you understand me. i could see this mostly being some kind of fictional though or maybe half fictional half biopic (you know what i mean?) but i know these guys have got Creative Ideas and i think whether it's original concept they act, or them riffing off their own lives with something (kinda DINOK-esque), it'd be something they haven't really done before and would definitely qualify as like New Project

V - bonus: it takes two #2 before the end of june. i believe this. it might be the 29th it might be the 30th but i think it'll be pre-announcement, and i'm expecting announcement early july

tldr: merch + board game, then film or series; tour in 2025 or 2026

anyway! i yap more than daniel james howell sorry (i'm always saying this) but lmk thoughts if u have them!! especially about what the film/series might be because if u can't tell i'm kinda waffling lol idk what it might be

[coffee-in-veins]

I was thinking again about how Dismas's Face Your Failure sucks, but tbh they kinda fucked up with the concept? To have Dismas kill a random guard doesnt really represent what went on and how it affected him, on the other hand, for him to face his failure by shooting that poor woman again would have been horrible and stupid.

There are very different types of backstory they tried to pigeonhole into the "failure" theme and to represent it by a single NPC gets even more awkward. You have Para killing the result of her horrid experiment, good, ok, makes sense. But Audrey kills her husband which she has no reason to regret killing in the first place, only that she didn't get away with it, Bonnie is faced with the adult that tortured her as a kid (is her failure running away from a fucking cult???)... then Barristan has to kill the ghosts of people led to their deaths and genuinely regrets doing so. Damian has to beat himself like he doesn't do that shit every day.

I'm sure if this was an anime it would all make sense, with dialogue and the evil shades taunting the heroes by distorting what went on, but as is stands, it's just forced. It's no Come Unto Your Maker in terms of impact, that's for sure

thank you for the ask!

sorry i'm slow with those lately ^^' too much irl shite falling on my lap... i am genuinely happy to receive asks, but i barely have much strength to do more than reblog some nice art lately. my bad.

i hope the length of it will make up for how late it is.

frankly, i refuse to engage with DD2 on principle and do my best to forget it exists, so where i feel comfortable discussing DD1 and my knowledge of it, in DD2 I can mostly speak based on youtube walkthroughs and my spite.

please, bear in mind that i'm biased. i'm still salty at DD2, and what i let slide in DD1, i meticulously dissect in DD2. so if this bothers you, i'm genuinely sorry. i can't help it. this was why i tried my best to distance from DD2 entirely.

that includes the little arsonist. i still can't help but resent her for taking space away from someone from the old cast. so i can't say anything about Bonnie, sorry.

Dismas is just a whole mess in his own league, as I mentioned before. and it's too depressing for me to dig into it fully, but the way the game is now (to my knowledge) it seems that his biggest 'failure' is getting out of a 'hellish' prison which had left such a lasting impact on his psyche that he has nightmares about it instead of some eldritch horrors. which imo speaks volumes about his time there.

frankly, for me Para is firmly in a 'this is not as traumatizing as they make it out to be' category. the guy was already dead, and based on narration, he was dead before she found him (where in DD1 comic this fact was up to debate). morally, at least in my eyes, it is no worse than autopsy. is autopsy immoral? no, not really. it doesn't hurt anyone. the corpses don't really care what happens to them. she basically created a Gaunt and we see no proof that Gaunts are sentient or can comprehend what is happening to them. for all intents and purposes, Para made a zombie, and then killed a zombie. the only change was that she used to know the basis of said zombie. was that traumatic for her? most likely, in a way every failed experiment of such magnitude is. was it immoral since the guy was dead and wasn't technically there anymore…? ehhhh… no? not in my head, at least. it definitely didn't warrant the place of her biggest failure - after all, she continued her trade, in DD1 at least, and there she was quite self-assured and willing to do what it takes to battle illnesses of Hamlet.

Audrey actually got away with killing her husband. the problem was that she got his debts too, as the new Lord of her household. so to not lose the lifestyle she had, she resorted to grave robbing. later, she either didn't get away with that, or got way too into it for the thrills. if anything, my bet would be on her regretting not killing him sooner, before the debts. i can't see any point where he would be her failure. marrying him? well, considering the age and her noble lineage, being a woman and narrator's phrase about her "Born into money, and married into more", marrying her husband was hardly her own decision, so not a failure in that regard, too. unless RH are implying very, very dubious things, i fail to see any scenario where he is her fault, worthy of 'Face your Failure' yelled at her face.

Barristan we get to see in both DD1 and DD2 seemed to be post-redemption arc, personally. well, save for few barks in DD1 afflictions (man, i miss how jaded and pointed they were unlike what i've seen in DD2...), but in DD1 everyone was much more at each other's throats and less sanded off to be mellow when they were afflicted, imo. but i digress. so, guardian grandpa felt like he had had his redemption arc already, before the game even started. he fucked up, he made amends, he learned his lesson. making him re-kill the ghosts is just a dick move from writers, imo.

i'm lowkey afraid to ask who Junia and Sarmenti get. because i dunno. i have my guesses, but if they are true, then i'm... i'm not even disappointed, i'm just tired.

Damian is... well, he simply is. i can get a separate rant about him, but boy, i have a lot of punches for the way the narrative worked with him. granted, he appeared when the levels of my blood salt regarding DD2 were reaching organ-failure levels (guess like Damian himself), but boy, did the RH did him dirty! not only in handling him, but also with going the most stupid, the most cheap option of self-fight.

however, and that's one huge however.

however, there's one character who, to me, outshines all this crap.

the most baffling example for me personally has to be Baldwin. the game made a very pointed, on the nose, blatant effort of showing him like the only actually undeniably good guy from the whole roster. he is kind, humble, loving, and is a 2-meter tall disney princess in disguise considering how each of his official artwork features small birds loving him and sitting on his hands. i don't even know what he gets as a Failure. his advisers? he dealt with them in more ways than one. the beggars he selflessly helped got leprosy from? if yes, this is undoubtedly not-as-good of a character anymore. does he just get to slap the boss for 200 HP because he's a gigachad or something? i'm genuinely confused.

as i said before, given the game's narrative, Face Your Failure makes no goddamn sense, and i stand by those words.

not only it feels cheaper than Come Unto Thy Maker (you can't straight out DIE from it afaik) it's not a hindrance - it's outright your way to win. unless you play with a vestal who has 0 attack skills, this is not a thing which makes the fight harder (like Come Unto Thy Maker does, progressively reducing your damage output and safety options), it does the exact opposite! why? why would the big bad make this fight easier for you to win? ugh! are we going for the 'i know you are in there somewhere' fights? is the guy called Hateful God for fuck's sake playing along with you, pulls his punches and secretly wishes you well? WHY would he??

excuse me, i need to read some soft reymas else thinking about this will put me into salt-induced frenzy.

[paranoidginger]

Lab-rat part 10

Tw: N/A

Bait sat in the common room, a small smile on his face as he listened to one of the Scout's many stories, a blanket wrapped snugly around his shoulders.

"So I'm out with my brothas, right? All reallllll rough and tumble types ah' guys, I'm only fifteen, and I see this person who I think is a cute chick, I'm only seeing her back, and she's got this super nice long hair. My older brotha, he notices me eye'n this broad, and he's all 'Shoot ya shot, man' so I look at him, all nervous n' crap, and go walk over to her. This. Now this is where it starts to get good, right? Because I go over and try to talk to her, and she turns around and turns out she was a whole man. He's got this super thick moustache, and I immediately recognize him. Dude's wearin' a wig, and he looks at my brotha and they both start losing their damn minds, 'cause the guy was my oldest brotha's best friend! Then the pieces fall together, 'cause my brother would never be that encouraging to me when it comes to a cute chick, he'd always, and I mean always, be the one to start hittin' on em, and then I think, and I realize that it's April freakin' first. They went through this whole plan, just to make me have a crush on my brotha's best friend. It didn't work though, I mean, I already decided to like girls, and I couldn't just go back 'n betray all the hot babes that wouldn't ever have a chance with me if I liked fellas, you know?"

Most of what the man said didn't make much sense to Bait, but Scout sounded so happy whenever he told his stories... It felt nice to be the one he could share whatever he liked with, just because he would listen...

The pair were interrupted as the Medic approached them, his boots clicking softly on the hardwood floors of the base.

"Sorry to intrude, but zhe shipment came in for our friend! Bait, if you are ready, we can get started on getting you put back together." The Medic smiled slightly, although it wavered slightly as he spoke the Clone's name. It felt wrong, filthy, even... But it was what the other team had called him, and what he continued to answer to while he tried to think of a name for himself.

"I'm ready..." He spoke quietly, getting to his feet and extending a hand so that he could be guided to the infirmary.

"He's... He's gonna be okay, right doc?" The Scout asked cautiously "I know you've got a knack for that kinda stuff but... I don't know, I'm- I'm just nervous. After what happened the other day when he wasn't wakin' up..."

"You know Zhat he is in safe hands, I von't let anyzhing go wrong, Junge." Gently, the medic took the clone's hand, beginning to lead him down the hall to where the procedures would be done.

Hours passed in an unconscious state, Bait's body laying on the Medic's operating table as he diligently worked, removing the horrid stuffing within the clone's body and replacing it with what belonged, saving his eyes for last.

The most delicate of procedures as nerves were mended together, and fine muscles reattached until finally, he could look at the clone's face and see that it was whole again. All of him would be whole again, for the first time in who knows how long.

Eventually, the young man slowly came to, a strange pressure in his face that he wasn't yet used to... And yet he still could not see. It wasn't the same as it had been before, though, his vision filled with simple darkness, as opposed to the void beyond it... But why was it still so dark? Slowly, he sat up in his little recovery bed, carefully touching his face, finding himself bandaged with gauze covering his eyes.

He turned his head to the door as he heard it open and shut, the familiar voices of the Medic and Spy.

"I'm glad to see zhat you're awake! Herr Spy vanted to be here for vhenever I took zhe bandages off." The Medic explained moving to sit on the edge of Bait's bed. "I have zhe lights off for now, being able to see again vill most likely be a very big transition for you." With that, the Medic carefully unraveled the bandages from around the clone's head, and he was finally able to open his eyes.

He took a deep breath, the motion easier than it had been before as he looked around the room, in shock as he was able to take in everything around him. A shaky laugh escaped him, and he began to smile. After a moment, he pulled the medic into a firm hug, his laughter turning to small sobs, tears of joy running down his face as he felt an extra set of arms around him, just for a moment.

As he pulled away from the Medic, wiping his tears with the heel of his palm, he looked up at the Spy, who had a rare genuine smile on his face.

"I told you the docteur would treat you well. Everyone here has been rooting for you, mon garçon... Myself especially."

Part 9

@thatonesimp-e @realccre

Another sweeter chapter, before everything goes to hell.

[megaphonegirlk]

coconuts ✦ what's your "type" in terms of fictional characters? what character trait(s) are you most drawn to?

OOOOH MY GOSH, it's this question >////> ⛈️🍵 (Rebecca/Sylphiel) here. My type in terms of fictional characters is kinda varied. I really genuinely love a lot of different types of people... I like characters who are dominant, self assured, and refined with a palpable undercurrent of danger...who look at me and see someone they love, and are willing to burn the world to protect us. I like fiery and chaotic party girls and boys who'll drag me out in the dead of night to hit the town and paint it red. I like ILFS of all kinds...I like big sis types and little sis types too. I'm kind of all over the place....I have a lot of loves I haven't even listed TuT!!! ---- I'm intruding on this answer. Sorry Becca. Hey. it's 🔮🪄 Rapture ;) I am a sucker for MILFS and DILFS of all kinds. If they can mommy or daddy me, I'm head over heels. Even better if they like to tease me relentlessly , and have a ridiculous sense of humor (you'd be surprised how many ILFS I adore who's sense of humor is absolutely horrid in the best way <3) I also like snarky ,nerdy, sardonic assholes who think they're too cool for everything , and angsty swordboys (gender neutral) who'll fight through hell and back for the people they actually love. OH OH OH, and i also love smug, smart yet unhinged men >_> I'm talking your 'I'm going to go on a Dr. Frankenstein ass rant at you at 2 am' . Your 'babe wake up, I need to tell you about the corpse I dug up and why It's perfect for scientific development' type of guy. The kinda guy who has a huge tube of green goop in his lab that he's growing some kind of monster in and going 'this is the best science known to man'.

[blair-the-juggalho]

Smoking the devils lettuce with Mitch (TWDG)

Super dumb idea but I need to write my thoughts. Also yes I based some of these of my own experiences shhh!

Sorry if there are any mistakes, there too many words here to reread 💀

Dont smoke kids. If ya do do it safely please.

You’ve smoked weed before (sorry if you havent but this is the way it’s gonna go this time)

Mitch had only once stole a cig from his dad when he was a child.

He hated it and started chocking

However he told everyone he smoked the whole thing without coughing once-

You most likely found a ten bag with some normal cigs when scavenging about and obviously you where stoked!

You could make about 4 joints with it

But heres the big question

To share or Not to share?

You knew you couldn’t let everyone know! I mean Jesus Ruby would kill you.

But this is a treat for staying alive ok?

You sat in your room preparing the joints

Meanwhile, Mitch walked past your room and could notice a horrid stench Coming from inside.

He knocked on and opened your door while coving his nose

“Shit What the fuck is going on in here??”

Oh shit…probs should of put a candle out or use some air freshener…

“Oh hey Mitch…🙂”

“What the fuck is that?”

“…a joint…”

“Holy shit a real one?”

“Well duh.”

“Rad…”

You (being very nice and generous) offered to share it with him!

He agreed exitedly but you can tell he was a little nervous

He closed the door behind him and sat next to you

You light the first joint and take a few drags then hand it over to Mitch

He tried to put on a cool bad boy act but his hand was shaking

“You know weed is very over exaggerated in most TV shows and movies right? You’ll just feel dizzy then after a few minutes you’ll feel more relaxed.”

Mitch nodded and relaxed a bit before taking a drag

A few more drags later and you both start to feel it kicking in

I doubt he’d be paranoid as long as you both are smoking indoors, if you guys ever did it outdoors he’d be freaking out (seeing walkers and hearing noises and such)

And I don’t think he’d throw up he felt a bit sick the first time but not enough to throw up

After the first joint is over he really mellows out!

He’d put on some music and just unwind

Like I said before, as long as he’s indoors he’s just a quiet high kinda guy

He’s so relaxed and calm unlike his usual hot headed self

He’d only get the giggles if you guys where smoking the weed That’s for ya body and Not your head (soz im proper stupid and don’t know the actual terms lmao)

After you guys finish the joints you both use a whole bottle of spray on deodorant to try to cover up the smell

It’s still painfully obvious tho

He wouldn’t really want to leave Ericssons but he would if you really wanted too

Most of the time you two end up walking around Ericsson life Ring to music (And trying to hide from everyone)

Also idk how but if you two ever get your hands on a sugary drink you both take turns drinking it SO you can feel your get all tingly lmao!

Also omfg when the munchies kick in you two are kinda fucked.

You two try and sneak into where Omar keeps any ingredients and shit and Just scran it all

“I feel so weird…I can taste the food but i cant feel anything in my stomach…it doesn’t even feel like I have a stomach.”

“Yep…me too mitch.😌”

Also one last thing, you two got caught.

And you got shouted at…ALOT

By ruby ofc.

Have funnn :)

[chaeinedup]

Hot and cold

CH08- Family hangout

Warning: mentions of kissing

previous// //next

[9:00PM]

Practice went really well, maybe too well. You were super excited to hangout afterwards and having your friends cheer you and hoon on did help. Unfortunately your teacher almost regreted letting them watch, lets just say there was a lot of echo.

You weren't sure if he had noticed but you kept stealing glances at Jake. He had bleached his hair, without telling a single soul. Very brave and so much better than the horrid buzzcut phase some guys have. And because of such stunt your dear friends for sure knew who J was. You so clearly saw them laughing in a hysterical way to each other which made you sigh to yourself. They were already embarassing you.

Your teacher finally dismissed you and your team members. You almost ran to the lockers room with excitment but Sunghoon grabbed you by the arm.

Sunghoon: I promise you I had nothing to do with this.

Y/n: You mean his hair?

Sunghoon: Yeah it wasn't a bet, I have no idea why he did it so if you don't like it it's all on him.

Y/n: If I don't like it???!!! dude he looks hoooot.

Sunghoon: You know what?? I shouldn't have said anything.

You both went your seperate ways, rushing to get ready so your friends wouldn't have to wait any longer. While you were getting dressed your phone buzzed making you peek at the screen. It was NingNing.

"Ningz <3: Stay there, we're coming yo you."

Before you could reply you heard the loud sound of laughing. signaling they were here.

Yunjin: You didn't tell us he was a blonde.

Y/n: Yeah I would've if I had known.

NingNing: WAIT?? HE JUST GOT IT DONE??

Y/n: Yeah it's as new to you as it is to me.

Yunjin: Oh bold I like him already.

NingNing: Okay take that off, you're not wearing that.

Y/n: What's wrong with my clothes? It's not like we're going to a party.

They looked at each other and then back at you with nervous smiles.

Y/n: Oh NingNing what did you do?

Ningning: Whaaaaat for once it wasn't my idea. It was Heeseung's.

Yunjin: It's true I can back her up.

NingNing: And because I'm prepared I always keep a change of clothes in my car. So here you go missy. I also brought my travel make up bag.

After you changed outfits you camped in front of the full length mirror to do your make up. You should really ask NingNing where she gets such good outfits but you know that her answer would be her big brain.

Y/n: So what did you guys think of the boys?? They're really cool right??

Yunjin: So far so good, I was talking to Jay and he's really into fashion so we kinda bonded over that.

NingNing: Sunoo is so cute!! I asked him about his skincare and he gave me the full list. We're planning to go to sephora next week if you want to come.

Y/n: And you were the one accusing me of prefering them over you?? looks like I'm the one that's been replaced.

You quickly finished getting ready, handed all of your friends bellongings back to her, did a little spin for them and they gave you their, very appreciated, feedback. The 3 of you walked out of the locker rooms meeting a very confused Sunghoon.

Sunghoon: Since when were they in there?

NingNing: It's none of your business.

Y/n: You know I never understood the beef between you guys.

Yunjin: You mean this one sided beef ?? Ning used to like someone from Hoon's class and they never gave her a chance so she's butt hurt and Hoon is the punching bag.

NingNing: Why are you airing out my business like that damn girl.

Sunghoon: Well for all it's worth, I'm sorry in their behalf.

NingNing:...thank you.... NOW QUICK WE HAVE TO GO HAVE DINNER. WE HAVE A PARTY TO GO TO.

She quickly ran off with Yunjin.

Sunghoon: Wait what?? A party??

Y/n: It was Heeseung's idea, take it up with him.

Sunghoon: Oh I'm gonna kill him. And that's why you look like that.

Y/n: Like what??!!

Sunghoon: Like Jake's gonna like it.

Y/n: OH SHUT UUUUUP.

[11:24PM]

This was being way more fun than you ever expected. You had dinner at a very fancy restaraunt called Mc Donald's. Well at least in their parking lot. You sat on the hood of Jake's car with him while enjoying the little dance battle Niki, Heeseung and Jungwon had put on as free entertainment. You almost didn't want to go to that random party, but you also didn't want to just bail on your friends without a good reason. Well you had a reason, you wanted to have more time with Jake, as selfish as it sounds it's the truth. And you two were together last night but the more time you spend with him, the less you can bare without him.

But off you were to some house you had no idea where it was located with your best friends singing Britney Spears as loudly as possible. Thakfully NingNing was great at multitasking or someone else would have to do the driving for the 3 of you. The car was stopped at a red light and soon enough 2 more cars came to a halt, Jake's first and Jay's a close second. You quickly rolled down the window starting to sing "If U seek amy", followed by Yunjin doing the same. Sunoo was recording in the backseat of Jay's car having a privileged view thanks to his phone's zoom setting.

Sadly the musical number was cut short due to the light finally turning green. You sat yourself, high fiving your friend for the 5 star performance giggling at how the entire neighbourhood probably woke up. In a matter of minutes you finally got to your destination, a lot more excited than before and ready to dance.

You rushed inside grabbing Yunjin and Ning and leaving the guys to themselves. As the door opens you're immediately intoxicated but the loud music, maybe Heeseung's idea wasn't so bad.

[1:44AM]

1, 2, 3, 4, .... you counted in your head how many drinks you've had so far and it was looking like one too many, sure you're not the designated driver but you didn't want to get absolutely hammered. Yunjin and Ning were dancing their worries away and you couldn't help but smile. You just love them so dearly. Your ride or dies.

Jake: I almost thought you had ran away?

Y/n: Without you? I'm not that mean.

You were both caught off guard by your answer. The liquor really made your flirt levels sky rocket. But you needed them right now so you made sure to use and abuse them.

Y/n: Do you want to dance ?

Jake: I'm not really that good.

Y/n: Well your loss. I'll make sure to put on a good show.

You sent a kiss his way while walking towards your roommates, leaving Jake all alone and regretting his decision of not accepting your request.

[2:22AM]

Exhaustion was getting to you, all this dancing was kicking your ass, that and the fact that you had practice just a few hours ago. You climbed up the first flight of stairs that you found, praying to find a bathroom to get some peace and serenity for a while. Of course there was a huge line for the guests bathroom but you wouldn't settle for that, master's bathroom it is. You knocked a couple of times like it was gonna be audible through all the commotion. Someone did reply making you wonder how they heard it, but you yelled if you could come in. The door opened and it was Jake. You smiled grateful that it wasn't a stranger. You pulled him inside with you.

Y/n: I guess you had the same idea as me. I knew you were smart.

You layed in bed, closing your eyes, taking in how comfortable it was.

Jake: Are you okay?

Y/n: Yeah it takes me a lot to get drunk don't worry.

He layed next to you sighing.

Y/n: Yeah being sober kinda sucks doesn't it? at least in the middle of a lot of drunk people.

Jake: Sacrifices have to be made.

Y/n: I can give you a taste if you want.

Jake: I'm okay thanks tho.

Y/n: So you don't want to kiss me?

The room was dark, he felt he was getting hit by his beating heart because of how loud it was, there's no way he's turning this down. In a heartbeat he turned to his side so he could press his lips against yours. He put his hand on your face turning it slightly.

You were tipsy but very concious, your words were sober thoughts with a hint of alcohool. Since last night all you could think about was how he kissed you on your temple and how much better it would've been if it was placed on your lips. You just knew he tasted like honey and chocolate, you never craved anyone like this.

Jake: There's nothing I'd like to do more.

[inkblackorchid]

For the most part, I'm perfectly okay with how this duel plays out, tbh. Misty is an excellent opponent for Aki, her mirror maze field spell is a good set piece for the whole "you killed my brother; look your own cruelty in the eyes"-angle, Aki getting to duel with zero restraint for a bit is kinda cool, and even the fact that Divine shows up again out of nowhere is fine because his exit from the narrative would have otherwise been dreadfully boring for such a compelling, minor antagonist, to say the least. (Though I do wish they'd bothered explaining how the hell he survived the Arcadia building's collapse. My personal hc is that he saved himself with his psychic powers somehow.) And the whole mind control thing, as vague as it is in canon, at least really hammers home that Divine's despicable and that Aki's better off without him. (Arguably, a version of this duel without Aki being mind-controlled at all could have been interesting, but tbh I think that would have needed to be set up a little differently. But I'm not here to talk about that.)

There is one thing I absolutely would have changed, though, and it's precisely the scene above. Like, don't get me wrong, I love Yusei, he's a great protagonist and I could never be mad at him for saving the day. But the mind control bit is one thing where I wish it hadn't been him who'd broken it. I'm fine with him exposing Divine in front of Misty, that scene delivers some really good comeuppance and showcases yet again how good Yusei is at coming up with plans and executing them quickly; it's a smart move from a smart guy and feels earned. (And I love his dumb grin when he says "my duel disk is home-made". Bastard (affectionate).) However, I wish they'd let Aki snap out of the mind control on her own before Divine gets gobbled up by Ccarayhua. I can guess why they didn't do that—Yusei's the protagonist, after all, and this is still primarily his show. (And arguably Jack's, but that's basically the standard modus operandi for yugioh protag/rival duos anyway.) So of course he gets to save the day here, because he's already been established as the guy who was willing to be in Aki's corner even back when she was still willfully trying to hurt people at this point, too. So I get it.

But still.

Especially in light of how Aki gets sidelined once this arc ends, it would have been nice if they'd at least let her leave her spot in the limelight with a flourish. Her relationship to Divine and the Arcadia Movement are never explored again past this point, anyway, save for a few throwaway remarks that tell us basically nothing about how Aki worked through all that. So why not give her this? In light of her circumstances, it made sense that she was happy to see Divine had survived at first during this duel, but why not let the mind control thing be the moment where she realises just how much of a horrible person he is? Let her realise that he's willing to go as far as overriding her free will entirely just to use her for his cruel purposes, and let that be the moment she finally breaks free of him on her own, without anyone telling her Divine and Arcadia are bad (no matter how well-intentioned those people are). If they couldn't give us any follow-up whatsoever about how Aki dealt with being back home, with having been a part of a cult for a while, and with realising that her former mentor/protector was a genuinely horrid human being, they could have at least given us this tiny moment where Aki broke free by herself. As much as I love Yusei, I just think they should have let Aki save herself here. It could have been such a powerful moment to see her shake herself out of that control, unwilling to hurt Misty, who's grief she felt sorry for, and most of all, unwilling to hurt or let her new friends be hurt.

So yeah. Good duel, massive missed opportunity imo.