#i hate so much about the things that you choose to be

[teaboot]

Hey! Bamboo toilet paper person here. Your response was very thoughtful-- I want to apologize for placing the onus of climate issues on individual action, haha. I work at a zoo that bills itself as being very heavy on conservation messaging, but as a non-partisan organization we're obviously not allowed to talk about the evils of capitalism. This means that in our programming, we MUST place the responsibility of stopping climate change on individual guests, encouraging them to make more environmentally conscientious decisions like buying reef safe sunscreen or reducing carbon emissions by driving less. The most "political" we're allowed to get is telling people to stay educated and vote in favor of laws that will have a positive impact on the environment. I think I've been drinking the Zoolaid a little TOO much recently, because you're totally right-- the vast, VAST majority of damage to the environment is caused by major corporations, not random people working around their own unique needs. It was also low key a little ableist of me to take issue with that ngl.

Obviously no obligation to respond to this publicly (though it's fine if you choose to do so), but I did want to thank you for your response and mention that it did get through the nonprofit mission-based-organization propaganda living rent free in my head haha. Cheers!

Hey, you work at a zoo? That is SO cool, aadsdggjjg@!!!

And hey, no worries, you totally had a good point about endless waste and trying to counter it where possible- Just from personal experience involved in the barest edge of the fashion industry, I really, really, REALLY hate the idea that, like... people can't access simple shit like plastic straws, even if they're the best, most practical, least-harmful option for them.... because a 12 year old made up some random number for a school project about plastic waste

Where, as a zoo person, I imagine you're already aware that the average sea turtle is WILDLY more likely to die from abandoned plastic fishing nets or ocean-dump grocery bags than accidentally get a straw inside it

So here we are, using paper straws!- which may be an improvement, or may not, I don't have that data, and construction emissions are their own thing- BUT WE STILL HAVE OCEANS FULL OF ABANDONED NETS

WHICH ARE OBJECTIVELY WORSE, but MUCH harder to get rid of, and as the average person doesn't USE fishing nets, it'd much harder to market as a "You, not me" sort of issue.

Cleaning up fishing nets isn't trendy. It isn't sexy. You can't troubleshoot a cute little trendy solution for it that you can market to upwardly-mobile tweens.

But a reusable water bottle? A cute canvas tote? A metal straw? That's a solution you can buy and feel good about.

Never mind that you need to use a single cotton reusable bag somewhere like a million times before the cost of its construction counterbalances the cost of a single grocery bag every time you shop- which, hey, some of us were reusing as trash liners for their wastebaskets, or bundle bags for donating clothes, or lining for our leaky winter boots!

If a better option is available, I'll take it. But as ZERO HARM is next to impossible at this time, I personally am gonna aim for MINIMAL HARM as long as I can.

...sorry, I didn't mean to ramble off again.

But hey, if your nonprofit is doing good things, feel free to shoot me a link! I can post it on my blog :D

(Link to original post for context lol)

[puckinghischier]

https://www.tumblr.com/puckinghischier/766626512832266240/hiiiiii-ive-come-to-beg-for-crumbs-lol-seeing

thinking about this for no reason tonight…quinn getting home extra pissed bc he got ejected and you aren’t helping, prancing around in only his jersey doing everything you can to get him to take his anger out on you again

you watched the whole thing happen from the tv in the hotel room, choosing to stay in tonight because it was so cold out. you hate to say it, but you were turned on the second you saw him looking down at the player on the ice, jabbing his stick around after the play had already stopped.

you knew he’d be back early, having already texted you that he’s forgoing any media because he just wants a hot shower and some greasy take out. you had other plans, however. you knew he’d have some pent up feelings. he always tries to hide how frustrated he really is, not wanting to set a bad example for any young captains or players watching. so, you decide to use it to your advantage.

you strip yourself from your clothes, walking over and rummaging through quinn’s game bag. you find the clean, black, skate jersey tucked away inside, and slip it over your bare body. you sprawl yourself out across the large bed, jersey ridden up just enough so your ass peeks out. you lay there in wait, wanting to be nothing more than his stress reliever tonight.

when he finally makes his way into the room, he tosses his bag down at the door and stalks towards the bathroom. he doesn’t even look your way, shutting the door and turning the shower on. shock and disappointment clouds your features, a small bit of embarrassment settling in your stomach. you stay put, though. waiting. surely when he sees you, he’ll pounce.

he emerges from the small bathroom twenty minutes later, towel wrapped around his waist. he looks at you on the bed, noticing your state.

“why are you wearing my skate jersey?” he asks, not hinting at whether he’s pleased or not.

you shrug. “just…felt like it,�� you try to sound sultry and seductive, letting him know what you want.

he stands and stares for a moment before shaking himself out of the trance, walking over to grab a pair of black boxer briefs from his suitcase, dropping the towel and sliding them up his legs before you can even appreciate his bare ass on display.

“did you find anywhere that’s still open and sounds good? m’starving,” he asks you, not bothering to put sweats or a shirt on.

“not yet…didn’t know if maybe you wanted something…sweeter to eat,” you roll over, spreading your legs slightly, giving him a glimpse of your damp pussy.

he sighs out, closing his eyes and pinching his nose while tilting his head up. your embarrassment creeps back in, picking up that he clearly doesn’t want to do this tonight.

you sit up, tugging his jersey down to cover yourself, cheeks flushed and eyes stinging with oncoming tears you will yourself not to drop.

“s-sorry. i’ll…uh…go look up some menus on my phone,” you whisper out, not meeting his eyes as you stand.

you don’t see the way his eyes snap open to look at you, the embarrassed and dejected tone causing alarms to go off in his head.

he reaches out and grabs your arm as you try to walk past him, stopping you in your tracks. placing both hands on your biceps under his jersey, he turns your body to face his, a soft “look at me,” forcing your attention to his face.

he brings a hand up to push a strand of hair out of your face, letting his hand trail down your face before finding its previous spot on your arm.

“m’sorry, didn’t mean to embarrass you. s’just…not this time,” he tells you, squeezing the soft flesh of your arms.

you nod, but you need to know if it’s you, or if he’s just really not in the mood. “was…,” you trail off, not knowing if you can handle the answer if it’s not in your favor. “was the jersey too much? just thought, i don’t know…you always say how much you like seeing me in them, and figured you’d need some…stress relief after tonight, so…” you leave the sentence open ended, assuming he understands what you’re not saying.

he chuckles out a dry laugh. “baby, i love seeing you in my jerseys so much, you have no idea,” he lets his gaze travel down to the way your body is swallowed by the black fabric. “but, i don’t trust myself with you tonight,” he confesses, looking back up at your surprised face.

“quinn, i trust you. i do. i know you’d never go too far, or do anything i wasn’t comfortable with,” you rush out, your hands flying up to grip both of his forearms.

he shakes his head, letting it drop. “sweetheart, you have no idea how much i’d love to have my way with you tonight, but i’m so pissed off. so mad at how tonight went. and the fact the team acted like they didn’t even need me?” you can see his eyes darkening the longer he talks, his grip on your arms tightening with each word. “can’t promise what would happen. how rough i’d be. don’t want to hurt you, or worse, scare you off,” he snaps out of his little trance, his grip loosening, but not before you whimpered at the burning squeeze.

it’s your turn to shake your head at him, hands leaning his arms to touch his face.

“q, please, i promise you won’t scare me off, or hurt me. i know my limits, and so do you. i trust you. trust yourself,” you plead with him.

you can tell he’s thinking it over, watching the conversation he’s having with himself in his head.

“i-are you sure?” he asks, looking into your eyes for any sign of doubt.

“use me,” is all you say in response, leaning up on the tips of your toes to whisper the words in his ear seductively. for good measure, you lick a stripe from his ear down his jaw and to the base of his throat.

the growl that erupts from where your tongue was just exploring is carnal, shoving you back from his body towards the bed. the force catches you off guard, falling onto your back on the plush surface.

he walks the short steps towards you, hovering over you. “tell me to stop at any time, okay?” he speaks softly, but with meaning, wanting you to know you’re still the one who’s really in control here.

you nod, sighing out a “okay,” as he rests a large hand on your thigh, sliding it all the way up to your chest, bringing the jersey with it.

he teasingly pinches a nipple, earning a moan from you as you arch your back into the sensation. he looks down at your face, loving how desperate you already are for him.

“remember, you asked for this,” he reminds you, causing your breath to hitch in your throat at the hungry, dark look on his face.

‘sure did,’ you think to yourself, knowing if last time was anything to go off of, tonight, coming off of an ejection rather than a simple minor penalty, you were in for a treat.

[casscainmainly]

As much as I love Duke and Damian being the most adorable brothers ever, the tension between them is way underutilised. They both have very tenuous relationships to the Robin identity, and if you look at their interactions in Robin War, it's shot through with insecurity and dislike:

Specifically, Damian consistently refutes Duke's right to Robin. Robin War is the event that leads Duke to quitting Robin, and arguably he does this mostly because of Damian; Tim and Jason don't really interact with Duke, and Dick essentially endorses him. But the beef is not one-sided, because Duke consistently hits on Damian's insecurities as well:

Damian belittles Duke's friends and entire cause; Duke highlights how unwanted and abandoned Damian is. They are simultaneous Robins with incompatible views of what Robin should be. Damian, fresh from his journey in Robin: Son of Batman, sees Robin as atonement, a link to Batman, and a representation of his personal growth; Duke, in the middle of We Are Robin, sees Robin as power, freedom from adult authority, and a representation of collective community.

The worst thing Damian can say about Duke is that his Robin is meaningless; the worst thing Duke can say about Damian is that his Robin is alone. They both say that to each other. And then, they both give up Robin:

In Duke's case, he precedes saying "I'm not Robin" with "that's the difference between you and me." Their Robins are so wildly different, their ideals so opposed to each other, that they cannot co-exist as Robin. The risk of losing what Robin means to them, especially for Damian, fuels a lot of their early animosity.

This opposition continues in Batman & The Signal #1, where in Duke's dream sequence, there is only one person he imagines wanting to oust him from the family - Damian. But Bruce also pits Damian and Duke against each other in Batman: The Secret Files: The Signal, in Duke's favour:

Bruce drags Damian down ('requires continuous supervision') to uplift Duke ('Gotham's best'). The writing in this comic is very questionable, but this is reminiscent of the way he talked to Cass about Steph in Batgirl (2000). Cass is the acceptable girl vs. Steph's unacceptable femininity; in a similar vein, Duke is the acceptable Batkid of colour, whereas Damian's heritage is 'inconvenient'.

Which is why it's all the more important that, despite everything, Damian and Duke do love each other.

Damian, despite all his (understandable) ambivalence and outward disdain towards Duke, pretty much spends the entire comic trying to save him:

And Duke, when Damian defects to the Owls, staunchly refuses to believe he's gone for good. Tim and Jason also protest, but they get knocked out pretty quickly. It's Duke who refuses to give up on Damian. It's Duke who won't leave Damian alone.

Even though their Robins are complete opposites, Duke and Damian both know how big a deal it is to choose Robin; as the two Robins of colour (besides Dick, whose position is slightly different), they know how easily Robin can be taken away. It's why Duke, a virtual stranger, is the one to break through to Damian when nobody else could.

This panel from the end of Robin War hits so hard in context. Every interaction up until this point is antagonistic, and they have every reason to hate each other - but they don't. They choose not to. They choose to love each other instead.

[batmanego]

wow what an incredibly rude and disrespectful thing to say on a post where i clearly and plainly state that it was inspired by someone dear to me taking their own life and on a post for trans day of remembrance. out of curiosity do you think im fucking stupid? do you think that i haven’t been in the position of a suicidal person? furthermore do you think i give a good goddamn about being “selfish” if it means my loved ones are still on this earth? i would trade elijah hating me for “selfishness” 10,000 times just to give them even one more week on this earth.

i don’t give a shit whether it makes me selfish or a bad person to tell people to stay alive for me. if that’s what it takes to keep them on this earth and give them the chance for better days, i’ll be the bad guy they can label selfish and rude. any reason to stay is a good reason.

there’s so much to your comment that makes me incandescently furious, but just to choose one: “a few hours every month” genuinely how fucking dare you. where the hell do you get off making these fucking assumptions on a post where i clearly and plainly talk about the recent loss of someone i love. how dare you imply, knowingly or not, that i did not love my friend “enough”.

donate $10 to the elijahs helping hand fund. i can’t believe you.

periodic reminder that your death by your own hand will wreak more havoc on the lives of those you know than you are ever capable of imagining and if you need a sign not to kill yourself this is it. people care more than you know & i am one of them

[dearmyloveleys]

;-; i just wanted to say ty for all your posts in the fof tag. now i'm thinking about ying lei and his yeye ying zhao... and now there is no one left to guard the mountain, but ying lei died in the same way as ying zhao, saving people he cares about

Don’t mention it! I blorb too much about things I really like it embarrasses me at times. I’m just glad you like my takes!! Anyway:

😭😭😭😭 this drama exists to hurt us,, I think more than dying for people he cares about (because nearly everyone who died did that), Ying Lei's characterisation and death provides a unique but tragic pov within the main cast

Ying Lei my poor Ying Lei. We don’t really talk too much about him don’t we. So let’s just talk all about him. CHARACTER ANALYSIS TIME YAY

Ying Lei is unadulterated sunshine and has a good heart. Morally, he is on the same page as the rest of the team. Yet, it absolutely breaks my heart that his fate is to be an outsider within the thematic concern of choice in FoF and resultingly, in the narrative.

His place in the overarching thematic concerns of FoF is unclear when we first meet him - he is simply a wandering half mountain god half demon with a bright disposition. But as with many characters in FoF, their appearances aren't just for naught. Ying Lei's representative theme - the freedom of choice and the ability to choose one's identity - finally shows itself in one of the most beautifully written (am biased) episodes of the series, Episode 17, which is all about choice.

In this episode, Ying Lei vents his displeasure of the Wilderness towards grandpa Ying Zhao

"I hate this place. I hate the Wilderness. It's so bleak and desolate. (…) If I have to stay here forever, I'd rather die. (…) I like the mortal world. I like everything that is vibrant and lively."

To which grandpa Ying Zhao gives him his blessing to head to the Mortal Realm,

"…as your grandfather, I respect your decision. You can be a Mountain God or an ordinary person."

His next sentence cements the plight of many demons (and humans) we encounter in the story,

"For many demons in the Wilderness, their lifelong dream is just three simple words… Have a choice."

These three words all the more juxtaposes Ying Lei's freedom to choose his identity, against every other character who faces this fate of not having a choice.

The Lie Demon, unable to say her true feelings until her moment of death, and Fei, who shares similar sentiments as Ying Lei about the mortal world,

"I'm a beast of calamity, I don't deserve to live in the mortal world. But I really like the bright lights, the liveliness and happiness, and the prosperity here." (Ep 13)

And Zhao Yuanzhou, where even in the same Episode 17, echoes Ying Lei's words,

"If this world gave me life to be manipulated by malicious energy, then I'd rather die."

Same words, but a different way out. Or there isn't one at all.

Ying Lei is the only one whose fate hasn't been carved out in stone for him. Even after Ying Zhao's death, he is still able to leave Kunlun Mountain and rejoin the team because he has the support of other Mountain Gods watching over the temple. He is by no means a pampered and spoiled person but he swims in a wealth of freedom. His bubbly, charming and affectionate personality is a physical manifestation of his unburdened self, unbeholden to any ending, except for the one that he wants.

And yet, he chooses a life with the group of people who never have had the option to choose what and who they want to be. Wen Xiao, the Baize Goddess; Zhao Yuanzhao, the vessel of malicious energy; Bai Jiu, determined to bring his mother back; Pei Sijing, the forced breadwinner of her family's martial heritage. To show his determination to be with this group, he never again dons the mature get-up (full sleeved robes and long hair) - his representation of maturing and accepting his responsibility as a Mountain God - after returning back to the Mortal Realm. Rather, he dons the get-up he first roamed the Mortal Realm with (or similar), metaphorically putting aside all that celestial burden in exchange for the friends that he desires. Just who in the group can as easily shed their very roots and history? His precious freedom to choose ironically makes him the outsider in a group whose only wishes are to be able to choose.

He gets along with the team, but no matter how many times he ties the knot of fate around them, these people were never his fate to begin with. Fate found the rest of them and demanded they be bound. Ying Lei wrestles that rope of fate, trying to get in, albeit with rejection. The narrative demonstrates this:

The team was initially formed without him, and he joined later them of his own accord - his own choice - while the others literally were forced to sign a death contract to be together. In the later episodes, his affection for Bai Jiu is often overshadowed by Bai Jiu's respect for Zhuo Yichen. He also continually tries to get both Bai Jiu and Zhuo Yichen's approval - head pats, anyone? Zhao Yuanzhou doesn't trust him to look after the dragon scale. In their conversation with Bing Yi, their team count is five, instead of six. His closest companions within the team are each other's confidants.

Even at his very end, the narrative still denies him a fate with them. He dies for Bai Jiu who is the only person he loves wholly, and fades away before Bai Jiu wakes from his coma. Neither gets to say goodbye. Bai Jiu who genuinely mourns his death, dies for Yichen. In a story where the cyclical nature of fate runs deep, there is no thread of fate that leads back to him. There is no resolution or reciprocation for Ying Lei's soul and sacrifice. Every thread is cut and never retied, no matter how he tries. Siheng has Sijing left to remember him. Yichen keeps Baijiu close to his heart. Wen Xiao and Yichen wait for Zhao Yuanzhou to return. But no one truly reminisces Ying Lei. The only people to do that are dead.

Ying Lei's tragedy lies in his freedom to choose. In a world where most fate is predetermined and choice is a scarcity, his death is all the more painful as every act is a conscious choice toward an unknown end. He carries a burden after all - the burden of writing his own story. And he braved each step with that brilliant smile of his.

我爱这个世界更多 又如何 So what if I love this world even more? 越平凡越长久 The more ordinary it is, the longer it lasts 月亮跟着我点头 The moon nods along with me 简简单单入梦的人最温柔 Those who step into dreams simply are the gentlest 分不清眼泪和酒 真让人挠头 This inability to distinguish between tears and wine, really makes one scratch their head 月亮和小狗默默跟我走 The moon and a puppy walk with me in silence 岁月从不停留 Time never stops once 少年也不回头 This youth also never turns back 他把故乡和爱留在身后 He leaves behind both his hometown and love

- 英雄不磊落 (Heroes Are Not Upright) | Ying Lei's Theme

[rin-solo]

I love. LOVE. Get In the Water

It's one of the objectively best songs in the musical; I will die on this hill.

Poseidon was always, despite being pretty much the main antagonist of EPIC, a really underdeveloped character in my opinion. He just needed a little more nuance and the fact that one (+ kind of one more) song managed to add so much to his characterization pretty much exclusively through subtext and implications is incredibly impressive writing. Because it did!

At the start he's yet again playing games with Odysseus, the way he did in Ruthlessness. In both songs he could kill him easily at any point, yet he chooses not to for the sake of playing games. In Ruthlessness, this becomes his own hubris as it leads to Odysseus escaping.

If you listen closely, at the start of GITW he already sounds slightly different. He's still trying to keep up this "God of Ruthlessness" front that he's so proud of, but he's no longer more or less carefree the way he was in Ruthlessness. He's been obsessing over this feud for ten years, and even if he would never admit it, it's actually clear just from his voice that he really is tired of it too. Not in the sense of it emotionally draining him the way it probably does Odysseus, but in the sense that it's a bother, a loose end in his life, a book that he finally wants to slam shut.

But he still has a reputation to uphold, and he still cannot close this book until Odysseus is dead, so he keeps up the game. Instead of just killing him, he's taunting him to kill himself. He might associate the idea of just striking him down with a sort of loss, like then he'd have to his hands dirty. Then he's rambling about killing his people, his family. He's provoking Odysseus on purpose, likely trying to get him to snap back, to hate him and fear him the way that Poseidon would think any mortal who has consumed this much of his time should. In his eyes, Odysseus deserves nothing less than to curse him with his last breath as his "darkest moment", the god who became the bane of his life.

And Odysseus replies, of all things, with ... sympathy.

Honestly, I don't blame Poseidon for being speechless for three full seconds. He literally just threatened to gauge Telemachus' eyes out the way Odysseus did with Polyphemus, and this absolute madlad of a man replies with an acknowledgement that he (might have) caused Poseidon pain too.

Now, I don't really think Poseidon was particularly hurt over Polyphemus' loss or hurting in any way in that moment. But just the fact that Odysseus acknowledges that he might be hurting too is probably something Poseidon hasn't heard in ... who knows how long? His family is the Olympians. I don't think I have to say more.

It's actually more of a genuine apology than Odysseus' explanation in Ruthlessness ... Now he doesn't say "sorry" because he's still not sorry for hurting Polyphemus, since he still needed to do that in order to escape. But he expresses regret over the pain he caused in a more genuine way than ever.

I am convinced that Poseidon is utterly unfamiliar with sympathy or mercy. He's lived by his "Ruthlessness is mercy" motto for centuries, and he doesn't know anything else. No one would try to teach him something different. The other gods all live by this logic, even if he's the most vocal about it considering he seems to have made it his whole personality. Mortals wouldn't dare to question Poseidon in the first place. And barely anyone would be willing to treat someone with kindness who is in turn treating everyone around them with ruthlessness.

It's very likely that Poseidon hasn't encountered anyone like this until Odysseus. Ruthlessness is simply how he treats people, and also how he expects to be treated back. The fact that Odysseus doesn't, the fact that instead of hating or fearing or cursing him he acknowledges that they have both hurt each other and that it doesn't lead anywhere to still pursue vengeance must have triggered Poseidon in an unprecedented way.

To him, this was probably the most outrageous thing Odysseus could have said in that moment. And it throws him off so much that he is genuinely speechless, and then simply replies, "I can't." ... his most genuine-sounding line in the whole musical.

I cannot stress enough how much it threw me off to hear this line; in the best way imaginable, it doesn't sound like Poseidon. It sounds almost vulnerable. Almost human. Because he is genuinely at a loss so much that he forgets to put up his "wrathful god" facade for just one second. Standing ovation to Steven Rodriguez for his whole performance, but especially this part.

And then Odysseus goes all out, to say something even more outrageous: "Maybe you could learn to forgive?"

... Which is when Poseidon snaps.

Kind of understandable, honestly. There's this mortal whom he has likely fantasized about seeing pleading, hate-filled, and terrified, cowering before him, for ten years now ... telling him that he ought to learn something. Even hijacking his own motif and his instrument in order to turn it on its head, "defile" it if you will.

This f*cking mortal pr*ck took his own "Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves" catchphrase and turned it into forgiveness ... Of course, Poseidon is no longer hesitating, of course he is no longer concerned with getting his hands dirty or not. He yells "DIE!" and unleashes his ultimate move (which is really overkill for simply killing a mortal if you think about it) ... But he does it anyway because this time he genuinely means it.

This simple exchange (my favorite moment in the whole musical, actually) tells us so much about both of these characters that it makes me want to skitter and squeal in excitement.

Here is Odysseus—the very same one whom Poseidon specifically tried to teach ruthlessness—becoming the first person in a long time to offer him sympathy despite how Poseidon himself showed him nothing but ruthlessness. And then one song later, here is Odysseus showing him the consequences of not accepting said sympathy.

Six Hundred Strike and what Odysseus does to Poseidon would've not hit the same, in my opinion, if he hadn't made this offer, if he hadn't given Poseidon this way out, even if no one watching genuinely expected it to work (probably not even Odysseus himself.)

Six Hundred Strike is not Odysseus exacting vengeance. If GITW proved anything about Odysseus it's that he does not want vengeance. He wants all of the hatred and pain to be over, to the point where he is willing to let go of, and I am inclined to say forgive, Poseidon for what he's done to him. Six Hundred Strike is simply Odysseus teaching him this lesson that Poseidon couldn't have learned in any other way, because he has proven in GITW that he genuinely does not speak any language besides that of ruthlessness.

It's just the perfect representation of how Odysseus has now finally learned the balance between mercy and ruthlessness, which seems to be the core theme of the musical: Both have their time and place, one simply has to be willing to act in both ways and know when to use either. No one extreme is the solution. I am genuinely exhilarated that Odysseus finally seemed to have figured out that it's been both all along.

[constantfragmentation]

HI FELLOW SILCO ENJOYER

What are your thoughts on the polycule theory of felicia-silco-vander? 👀

Whew... where to begin?

Fair warning, this is going to be a long assessment.

First off, I firmly believe (unless S2 Act 3 makes me eat my words), that the writers didn't realize Silco and Vander would become such popular characters. I don't think that was the plan. They were side characters meant to beef up the main stars Jinx and Vi. Rightly so. They were devised as parallels for Vi and Jinx throughout the story. And it was beautiful.

S1 was filled with little details that enhanced every part of the plot and character development through each act.

However, if S/V were so important, more care would have been put into their backstories, which have been kept pretty vague. And these so-called continuity mistakes/plotholes seem pretty big for a studio that has been meticulous in the details all through S1.

We meet Vander, who changes his life after seeing the kids lose their parents and adopts them. Vander is seen as the builder and leader of the Underground, and he seems to lead with the threat of who he used to be (until Sevika calls his ass out).

Silco is introduced as the mean baddie immediately via Vander/Benzo's conversation in E1.

"There's worse things than Enforcers out there. We both know that."

Then his full intro including an underground evil lair and mad scientist at the end of E1.

E2 leans into the same MO for Silco. Until finally coming to the best episode (IMO) in all of S1 and it's E3, where things come to light. But he's still evil, vicious and spares no one. Silco appears to have zero empathy and is filled with a deep seeded hate.

"Silco?! You animal! Go crawl back into whatever hole you came out of!"

S1E1-3 Silco completely paints him as terrible from the Underground's perspective. Silco - bad. Vander - good. Both Vander and Benzo see Silco as a dangerous threat. So does the rest of the Underground feel the same? Do they know about what happened to Silco by Vander's hands? Sevika chooses him because she lost faith in Vander as a leader.

So, that makes me wonder if Silco WAS the brains behind everything from their smuggling business and building up the Underground to the rebellion. Vander on his own, seemingly, isn't shit. He is the muscle. WIthout the brains, he doesn't haven much in planning so he turns to making a deal with Enforcers instead.

By S1E3, we start to see beyond the veil a bit. Vander tried to drown and murder Silco. Let's remember one thing. Vander didn't just try to shoot Silco or they got into a fist fight and things got out of hand.

He tried to DROWN him. There's no way Silco went with Vander to the river fearing his life. Now, whether they went to talk in private and it got heated, you still have to sit back and look at Young!Vander and think wtf?

He is painted the good guy from the beginning. A man with restraint and compassion, looking out for everyone and especially his 'kids'.

It takes will and strength to smother/drown a person. It is NOT a quick death, it's a slow and painful death. Vander's intent was to kill him. Not once, did Vander think in the minutes holding Silco underwater that damn, this is wrong or overkill? You don't flippantly say "I'll never forgive myself" for trying to murder you slowly. Now beating the shit out of him and ruining his eye, yeah, that would make more sense from Vander, knowing he probably turned Silco into this worse person and fucked up his face, vision forever.

The viewer is left to assume it was something so fucking bad, Vander had to kill to stop it. Plus, Silco is already painted as the bad guy, so we presume Vander was right in trying to kill him?

So, what was so bad that this course of action was required? Well, it's pretty damn vague. In all of E3, Felicia isn't mentioned or hinted at ONCE. Not once. If Vander tried to kill Silco because of her, why do we not learn about any of it?? That seems like a pretty important fact, yes? This is Vi/Jinx's mom and she was a close friend? I'd say that's important.

Nope. Silco drags Vander to his lair and waxes on about fighting Piltover and finally realizing his dream of a free Zaun by any means.

Vander tells Silco he's never forgiven himself for trying to kill him, but nothing else is added to it? We're left to believe that Silco was either too powerful and influential in Zaun or that he orchestrated the bridge fight (that Vander was still fighting until the kids arrive and they see their dead parents).

This grey area is why the fandom has spent years trying to decipher what was so bad that it tore two brothers apart with attempted murder.

We learn in S2, Vander apparently "looked everywhere" for Silco and then wrote him a letter in a mine, hoping Silco might come across it. Well, if your brother tried to murder you, I'd say you would stay far away from him and not venture to old places in case he might try it again? Sounds reasonable, yes?

So Vander just gave up trying to talk to Silco and explain everything for YEARS? By S1E1 he and Benzo know about Silco and probably know where he is and that he's up to no good obviously. So why haven't they talked once in years?

Vander said he was in a rage over Felicia's death. But I'm sorry, none of that makes much sense and frankly takes the fire out of what created the fracture between two friends.

I would have preferred Riot not explain than give us a half-assed backstory of three happy-go-lucky buddies and the death of one is the backbone of hate, distrust and betrayal.

Again, Silco said Vander BETRAYED him. If they were arguing about Felicia and her partner dying, leaving kids orphaned, I don't call that betrayal. Vander's letter sounds like an argument that got out of hand. You don't just accidentally drown your best friend for the greater good because your other friend died in a fight ALL of you were fighting. You knew people would get hurt and/or die. It's reality.

It just doesn't FIT. It doesn't fit these characters at all in the narrative from S1.

Another reason I believe Riot never intended to go further with Silco and Vander's backstory is in the animation. Like I said above, S1 was littered with little and amazing details that we, as the viewer, have been analyzing for years.

The drowning was a VERY young Silco and Vander. Vander clearly has a beard and looks much older on the bridge in E1. The flashback in E3 looks like it was 10 years earlier at LEAST. That would be around the time Vi was born or a toddler if we're estimating her age by S1E1 on the bridge.

Vander beat the shit out of him and then decided to kill him by drowning. THAT is a major choice to make. That is a vicious choice. So we do see Vander as being more violent in his youth. So if the drowning came AFTER the bridge, that also doesn't quite fit either. He takes the kids and chooses pacifism, yet soon after, he's murdering his best friend. AND he suddenly shaved and grew younger, because he wanted to look clean and pretty before killing his bestie?

Zero continuity here. Bad writing. If there was mistake due to animation, they should have changed the backstory to fit than ramrod something else that looks badly done and makes zero sense to your audience.

Personally, I wish the drowning was PRIOR to the bridge battle.

It would make more sense if Vander was having second thoughts while planning the bridge fight. Maybe a separate attack went wrong and he realized they were going to lose and many would die. Silco, maybe having more influence or threatening to show Vander as a coward to the people is what finally triggers Vander to kill him. In order to stop this, Silco needs to die and then maybe Vander can convince others the fight is already lost against a superior firepower.

To kill Silco in that manner, signals to me, Silco was a great threat. Which means to me, Vander either felt he was a threat to him (since Vander does become the power in the Underground - the Hound) or he is beginning to feel like this fight is pointless and will change nothing. People will die for nothing.

Making it all about Felicia, just takes the fire out of rift between these two men all these years.

Again, she's never mentioned.

Silco even reflects in S1E3 that he still respected Vander after the drowning until he learned Vander was working with Enforcers and basically made a deal with Topside to keep the peace. That continues his pathway as a rebel and he's going to take down Vander with it or use him "what you really are".

Silco knows how violent Vander was and he's going to use it with Shimmer.

If we go by S2 timeline, then both Silco and Vander would know Felicia's kids well before the bridge battle. in S1, Silco would know who Vi is, at least and be aware of Powder. He would know this by S1E3 when he says "Have you heard the rumour? Vander the coward fled town with his children and were never seen again."

Pretty callous talking about his other bestie's kids like that. Damn. If Silco cared for her, then wouldn't he spare her kids? I just don't see this was ever about Felicia. It doesn't fit. He really didn't flinch in having Vi or any of the kids killed. HER kids? I'm having a hard time with that one.

I've said before that in Silco's eyes, Vi is an extension of Vander. When he finds Powder and she cuts off Vi as her sister, Jinx becomes an extension of himself, thus HIS daughter. It's like Silco's last "fuck you" to Vander by taking Felicia's other daughter as his own.

Overall, I hope to hell it's not some love triangle. Or either man was in love or had a crush on her.

I read some fans saying since the flashbacks are Vander's in S2, we're seeing things from his perspective. I'm all for an unreliable narrator with characters because it keeps things open for interpretation.

But we would need to see this from Silco's perspective, too—not just the drowning/betrayal. Silco sees this as a major factor in the direction his character takes. It's a life-changing moment for him.

We also don't see any flashbacks to the years Silco took care of Jinx after Vander's death. If he knew Jinx's mom, wouldn't that come up? Wouldn't that be something Jinx would remember and influence her?

In S2, she reminisces a few memories of her mom like nothing has happened since. She and Vi act like nothing really happened between them. By the end of S1, the sisters diverge when Jinx decides who she will be. It's Jinx, not Powder. She knows Silco loved her and, more importantly, accepted her for who she was. She was perfect in his eyes.

Plus, Vander's trio flashback seems odd in both animation and backstory choices. Silco looks VERY different than his flashback of the drowning. His hair is much longer (man bun), he has a widow's peak he doesn't have later (weird). He appears to care for Felicia and happy for her being a mom. They made him more physically attractive and older than the flashback in S1E3.

Vander doesn't look like the younger version in Silco's drowning flashback. He looks older too. Animation choices were made that don't match the continuity of the previous season.

We're assuming their smuggling business is doing well if Felicia talks about the Underground being much better for everyone. Are we still giving Vander full credit for that? S1 implies Vander built the Underground both from Grayson and Zaunites.

Silco jokes he is "Bozo #1". To me, he is joking but not in saying he's the mastermind in this duo. Without him, Vander's just a brute.

I'm not sure of Vi's age by S1E1, but maybe she's 10 or 12? So prior to the battle unless a fallout happened with Vander and Silco, why don't we see Silco with the kids? Why do the kids act like they don't know him? If they were such a tight trio with Felicia, why only Vander with the kids?

He fought at the bridge knowing Felicia had two young kids that could be orphaned and was still fighting when the kids showed up. He already knew Felicia was dead but was still fighting.

If her death was too much, why didn't he stop then? The kids appreance stopped him. Okay. I get that. But we don't see Silco anywhere on that bridge, does he know she dead? Is he still fighting? Where is he?

This whole polycule feels like they had to throw it in somewhere but didn't adequately explain it to match the motivations of the characters we have known and studied. It opens more plothole questions than it answers. It creates more problems that did not need to be there.

If Felicia wasn't that important to expand on last season, why do it now and do it poorly that contradicts characterizations already laid down in the whole previous season?

I'll say it again and again: Riot did not plan for it. They didn't think Vander and especially Silco would be so popular, and fans would demand to know more about them.

Plus, another thing that kind of bugged me:

When Vi is embracing Warwick/Vander and tells Jinx "He's your dad too."

Yeah, it's a nice moment, but it's a shit on Silco too. Technically, didn't JInx have more years with Silco than Vander? She saw Silco as her father (although not the best), accepted her, encouraged her skills, gave her important jobs, wouldn't give her up and called her perfect in his dying words.

I guess fuck that dad, right? He is evil dad and now he's dead, doesn't matter anymore.

Did anyone else feel like Jinx turned back into Powder this season? The kicker in S1, is that she CHOSE to be Jinx. IDK. The sisters were real quick to hook back up after everything.

As I've said before, they needed maybe three seasons if they were going this route. No character is getting enough time this season for good story-telling and character development. Too much is getting crammed in one season and it's sad because there is SO much story to work with.

I, for one, would watch another season of these characters. You could take time to explain the Black Rose and Mel's story. Ekko has nothing this season. Jayce doesn't have much. There's very little explaining and too many new questions that won't get answered in one season.

Vi became an Enforcer for half a second. Granted Caitvi only knew each other for maybe a week so for their 'relationship' to fall apart doesn't surprise me. But Cait bouncing back and forth. Jinx bouncing back immediately after Silco's death doesn't make sense since he wasn't the cause of her mental illness.

"Silco didn't create Jinx. You did."

Sister's bond quickly like nothing happened between them. Sevika is suddenly on Jinx's side with little work considering they disliked each so much.

Intro of a new character, Isha.

Viktor turns into Jesus and hangs out in the Big Bang with Sky. I was waiting for Machine Herald and got Jesus Herald.

Ambessa could have a better story but again, I think they needed at least one more season to flesh everything out. It's all too fast and packing way too much into one season of plot for so many characters. The sister's reunion is too fast. We don't get enough info on Warwick yet.

I hope, but they can't tie all this up in three more episodes.

Sorry for the mental vomit, but I've been thinking about this all week, and now it's out like verbal diarrhea. Even though I've enjoyed this season, I can't help but feel disappointed. S1 was so much better.

[carovingian]

I debated writing this here or starting a new thread, but I think the folks who’d need it are here, so I’m gonna take a crack at something.

I really love men. I seek out mostly male spaces. I like that my work is full of nice thoughtful guys who are excited to make something clever and useful. I like that my personal life is fill of horny creative guys.

I loved the guys in my college fiancé’s marching band fraternity. They helped me feel better when the band sorority didn’t want me.

I worry about guys, because I’ve seen how they default to sharing their strengths most of the time. I’ve been in a politeness standoff with a heavily breathing 80 year old man over who would sit in the last open chair because I was pregnant at the time, and a lot of guys are Like That. They’ll give you their last crumb, it’s a labor worth doing to make sure they remember to rest.

I confess; I’ve been annoyed by what gets called mansplaining exactly twice. But the vast majority of the time I think it’s just an example of what I said before- guys will give you anything they think is their strength, it’s a reflex. It’s okay that they’re wrong sometimes, because it’s honestly a very good and kind impulse. I love that men will share what they know.

I love guys that rough house. I love guys that grew up big and are slow and careful with it. I love guys my exact (short) height because they’re guys and it’s interesting to see how our frames and experiences differ and how they don’t. I love every tall guy who cheerfully grabbed something high up for me.

I think facial hair is so so neat. I think baldness is a great look but I’m sad guys don’t really get to choose it. I love the way guys put on muscle. And don’t get me started but I really really love cock.

*ahem*

On a different note, I love my uncles. It was really fun to sing with them at the family reunion, and see my Uncle Lloyd sweep the Timeline tournament. I love how he’s my half Uncle, but my grandfather adopted him. I really hate that I never met my grandfather, but I love how my father has been doing careful cardio his whole life because he wanted to keep us from feeling how he felt when his Dad died of a heart attack. I love how much research goes into heart health.

I love guys, many specific guys, and most kinds of guy I’ve met. And I hope hearing about it helps a bit. It’s not a big structural change, but it’s a thing I could do this morning, and I hope it helps.

Leaving toxic masculinity behind as a source of community is pretty much an unmitigated good, especially for men who are chronically underperforming in one or more metric by which hegemonic patriarchal status is measured (heterosexuality, whiteness, ability to perform violence, ect.). No real external spur is needed for leaving. It doesn't even require empathy. Just perspective. Relying on an abusive pyramid scheme for self worth is bad, actually.

But when you leave that, I dunno, call me a whiny incel who expects emotional labour from others, it would be cool if there was some sort of community or support structure in place for progressive men to find celebration and identity and acceptance. It would be nice if we had cultural conceptions of positive masculinity that could be emulated instead of individual, exceptional, disposable blorbos to be fawned over. It would be nice if being masculine wasn't viewed as something that negates or problematises my queerness. It would be nice to even be able to find media about masculinity that isn't poisoned by fascism or more interested in dunking on said misogynists for clout. I feel like I'm trying to build something new from scratch. Why? Why is this such a fucking wasteland.

I don't know about y'all, but I have never felt understood and accepted by any community ever in my fucking life. I have never felt seen. I have never felt at home. I'm not gonna become a misogynist about it but there sure isn't anything positive to lean on or collective vision for a positive future to fucking strive for, is there? Christ.

And like, because I know I do have to end with this, before you try some faux-hopecore bullshit on me that actually seeks to shift the blame right back onto me, I'm already donating to and planning to volunteer for my local left wing party for our upcoming federal election. I already signed up for more classes to fill my time, I'm married, I text my stupid friends who bail on me and don't text back. I have been to therapy several times. I have already poured hundreds of hours trying to build community in male feminist spaces online. Systemic issues do not magically become individual failings when we talk about men.

[koji-haru]

I'll be with you

[For @inubaki! Happy birthday!! I hope your day was amazing! ❤️]

This fucking sucks. Adam groaned loudly as he slumped in his seat, face looking tiredly up at the red ceiling. Red. Before he didn’t care much for the colour, but now, with red painted everywhere he went as if he wore red tinted sunglasses all the time, he had come to hate the colour with a passion. Charlie went around the group, letting them choose which journal they wanted. The princess had talked everyone’s ear off with her lengthy speech about gratitude and taking things for granted, except Vaggie because of course she always supported any of Charlie’s exercises no matter good or bad of an idea it was. 

Unfortunately for Adam, he was the second last person in the group circle, with Alastor just after him. When Charlie finally got to him, he only had two options: one had ‘Live. Love. Laugh’ written on it in cursive with rainbows in the background, and the other was a plain beige journal with ‘My Life’ written on it. Adam quickly chose the beige journal, better the boring one instead of sparkly rainbows. In his peripheral vision, he noticed Alastor’s smile twitch a little when Charlie handed him the remaining journal. 

“Oh, thank you dear,” Alastor said as he slipped the journal into the shadows, most likely never to be seen again. 

“No problem at all!,” Charlie beamed.

Honestly, Adam wasn't sure how she managed to stay so bright and cheerful in such a miserable shithole of a place that was Hell, but props to her, he supposed, but that didn’t mean he was going down the same delusion. Adam looked down at the journal in his hand. Three things he was grateful for everyday, huh? 

It has been almost two months since Adam died in the failed Extermination, revived as a sinner, and was now a resident at the very same hotel he tried to destroy trying to redeem himself back to Heaven. Well, ‘trying’ would be an exaggeration, more like forced to stay at the Hotel by Sera and Lucifer. Sera just wanted him back as an angel in Heaven to stop the others from wondering where the first man disappeared to; really, she just wanted to keep the ‘mess’ he made under the rug. And Lucifer, well, he just wanted to keep his precious princess happy. If Adam could be redeemed back to Heaven, then maybe Charlie could even get Heaven’s support for her hotel since Sir Pentious’ redemption apparently only made them decide to at least leave the hotel and its residents alone. No news about the possibility of future exterminations yet though. 

In reality, Adam wasn’t even sure if he wanted to get redeemed. Don’t get him wrong, he hated being in Hell, the place was absolutely vile and disgusting in ways he never thought was even possible. But he was kind of glad to have some of the weight be lifted off his shoulders. He would have preferred to have all of the weight be lifted off him when he thought he finally, truly died at the battlefield, but it seemed that God had other plans for him. He already lived long lives in both Earth and Heaven, as a human and as an angel, but now he also had to live a life in Hell as a sinner. It was wearing him out. He just wanted to be relieved of any duties; he just wanted to finally be done with everything. Being in Hell, he was constantly reminded of his failure in the garden of Eden, how he also bit the apple despite knowing he shouldn’t just so he could selfishly remain with Eve. Sinners themselves were proof of the filth he knowingly allowed into the world, and as much as he hated killing his own descendants, the Exterminations were truly the only way he could clean up his mess. Or at least that was what he believed; when news of Sir Pentious being redeemed reached the hotel, Adam thought he was going to die a third time. This entire time he spilled the blood of his children, thinking that that was the only way for him to make up for his mistakes as well as, in a twisted way, saving them from an eternal life in Hell, it was all for naught. Redemption was possible. Some of those souls didn’t need to be erased…

Adam flipped the journal open. He had so many regrets in his eternally long life that all good things seem to simply fade into the background. Well, almost all the good things. He still wasn’t sure how it came to be, but somehow, he managed to earn Michael’s love that even led to a promise of eternal devotion. Yes, the archangel Michael, Lucifer’s very own brother. It was certainly an odd twist of fate, but his union with the archangel was something Adam would never ever regret no matter how many lives he would end up living. Michael was the only reason Adam was even sort of trying this redemption thing, otherwise he would simply tell Sera to fuck off and leave him to suffer in Hell. Despite the strong urge of giving up, Adam wanted to at least see Michael one more time. He knew he didn’t deserve it, especially with their stark differences in, well, everything important, but he couldn’t help it. He was just a human needing to be with the love of his life.

Yeah, he was grateful for Michael’s love even though he didn’t deserve it. He could write that in the journal. He would write that everyday.

Just as the group was about to get up from their seats and off to whatever they wanted to do for the day, a loud and purposeful knock on the hotel door sounded throughout the lobby. Charlie perked up from where she stood, somehow managing to look even happier as she excitedly made her way to the door. Everyone was currently present at the lobby for her activity, even her father, that knock could only mean one thing…

Charlie pulled the door open, beaming brightly as she greeted her new guest, “Welcome to the Happy Ho..tel…” 

The words quickly died in her throat as her jaw simply dropped at the sight before her. What was such a being doing in Hell, especially at her hotel?! In front of Charlie was the most divine angel she had ever seen, with such celestial presence exuding off of him as if the very Heavens had gone down to visit Hell.

The angel gave Charlie a small smile as he stepped closer towards the now open door. “Hello young lady, sorry but I’m looking for Adam, the first man. I heard he was staying here?”

“Oh, uh, y-yes,” stammered Charlie, still stunned at the presence before her, as she took a step to the side, letting the angel into the hotel. “Just this way.”

“Thank you,” the angel thanked with a quick nod of his head before entering the hotel with quick, determined strides. He stopped by the lobby, looking around briefly until his eyes landed on a group of people gathered in a circle, and then zoning in on a specific sinner, looking different and yet all too familiar. The large black horns, blackened gold wings, floppy brown ears, and the long fluffy brown tail, swinging back and forth in impatience, did nothing to obscure the fact who the supposed sinner was. 

Before Lucifer could even react to the sudden guest’s presence, the angel already made his way towards the group, angelic presence heavy and almost burning, stopping just beside Adam and looking extremely displeased.

“Adam.” 

“Wuh?” Adam turned and swore he nearly died a third time as shock ran through his heart at the sight of the person in front of him. There, he sat dumbly on the carpeted floor, looking up at the new guest, both happy and confused. “Michael? What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same.” Michael stood over Adam, arms crossed and a rare scowl painted over his normally gentle face. “I didn’t think your annual ‘day trip’ with your exorcists included you dying, becoming a sinner, and staying in a redemptive hotel for almost two months.”

“Um…,” was all that Adam could say, still completely baffled at his husband’s presence here. At the hotel. In Hell. How did he find out in the first place anyway? Adam could do nothing but look down, unable to meet Michael’s eyes anymore as guilt resurfaced only to drag him back down. He had already accepted it long ago that the archangel was too good for him, but now, after having everything vile and revolting about him exposed, he felt he didn’t even deserve to be in his presence. 

“...I’m sorry…,” he said, quiet and apologetic, his torn heart visible for Michael to see.

“Aaawkward!!,” yelled Angel out from across them, followed by a pained yelp and a hiss when Vaggie smacked the back of his head to quickly shut him up. 

Michael closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting the air settle in his lungs for a moment before releasing them back out. A much softer look replaced his stern gaze once he opened his eyes again as he leaned down and offered a hand to Adam. “We’ll get through this, okay? Together this time.”

His angel really did come for him. Starting from the garden, throughout his hardships on Earth, his afterlife in Heaven, and even when he had fallen to Hell, Michael remained Adam’s guardian angel, steadfast in his devotion and, for some reason Adam couldn’t fathom, desired to forever remain by his side. It was a bit much really, for someone like him, especially now that he was nothing but a lowly sinner. So instead, Adam kept his eyes glued to the red carpet he was sat on, opting to pick himself up instead as he always had and always should. Just as he was about to push himself off the floor, Michael crouched down instead, going down to his level, and cupped his face with the softest hand Adam had ever felt. Michael’s blue eyes looked straight into him, not piercing but gently knocking, asking with all the tenderness of the world. 

“Come on, let’s get you back up, okay?”

Adam felt his heart creak at those words, and yet he couldn’t help the relief that washed over him as a small smile crept on his lips. It seemed that his angel was adamant about staying by his side; Michael was just weird like that, he supposed, to be so attached to him. In the end, Adam ended up timidly accepting the hand offered to him, whether he deserved it or not. 

“Um, sooo…,” Lucifer coughed into his fist, looking awkwardly around the lobby. “...long time no see, huh? Michael…”

“Wait,” Charlie cut in as she finally stepped into the lobby after letting the scene earlier pass by first. “Michael, as in THE archangel Michael? Angel of justice and warrior of God Michael?”

Now that he was a bit calmer, Michael finally let the awkward and strange situation he forced himself into fully sink in. And, oh, how out of place was he. “That’s me,” he replied. 

“Ooh, a bigshot from Heaven. I wonder how big you really are~” Angel pondered aloud for everyone to hear, earning him another smack to the head from Vaggie. “Ow! I was just asking!”

“Or, I don’t know, he could just be my brother?” Lucifer rolled his eyes. 

The sparkle in Charlie’s eyes brightened up even more, rivalling even that of Heaven’s image in the sky. “Oh my gosh!!,” she squealed as she bounced on her heels. “I can’t believe this! Uhh, oh gosh we were not prepared for your visit, uhm.” 

Within a span of a few seconds Charlie went from eagerly shaking Michael’s hand to fussing and worrying about the state of the hotel.

“The hotel’s fine my dear. Spotless even!” Alastor said, the smile on his face as wide as ever, though the look in his eyes told otherwise. The presence of another angelic being from Heaven was certainly unwelcome to him. That, and he wasn’t going to accept any critiques on the hotel he had worked so hard to upkeep, especially not from some spoilt angel! “There’s no need to worry so much.”

For once Lucifer found himself agreeing with Alastor, even nodding slightly along with him. 

“I think so too, duckling,” tried to tell her, trying to ease her unnecessary worries away. Really, what was the fuss? Just because his brother was here. “Besides,” he turned his attention back to Michael, his gaze a little more serious. “He’s an unannounced guest.”

“Oh, I’m planning to stay in Hell, at the hotel, if you would have me,” Michael announced to a shocked still crowd. Even Adam, who was standing by his side, had his mouth agape, eyes wide in shock and face pale at what Michael had just casually revealed. 

“WHAT?!,” exclaimed everyone in the room except for Michael, who easily stood there so sure of his decision. 

“I wish to have Adam back in Heaven, and so I’m staying to ensure that,” he explained, turning his gaze back to Adam, a small smile on his face, though Adam could immediately tell that even though there was still love in it, the tenderness plastered on that smile hid a blazing holy flame. “We’ll have to carefully plan your progress, right Adam?,” he asked, smile brightening up even more, Adam could almost feel the blaze from where he stood. 

“R-right…,” Adam reluctantly agreed, afraid of the talk they would definitely be having later. Michael hadn’t been mad at him for years; the archangel held a lot of restraint when it came to most things, and it often took a lot for him to even become irritated. But for him to be upset and mad? That was when Adam knew he truly fucked up. Michael was going to untangle him, and he wasn’t sure if he could ever be ready for that; more than a millennia’s worth of tangled fibres of his being was not going to be easy to unravel and sort out, nor would the effort be worth it, if he had a choice in the matter. 

“You can’t just–,” Lucifer tried to interject but was soon cut off by Charlie’s excited squeal.

“Of course you can stay!”

“Charlie, sweetie–”

“Then you have my thanks,” Michael said with a small bow. “I’ll make sure to put in a good word about your hotel to Heaven.”

“Wait–”

Charlie gasped, exhilaration flowing in her veins. Support from someone like Michael might just be what she needed for her hotel to be taken more seriously by Heaven. Just the thought of her hotel being official in Heaven’s eyes and her dream finally becoming true sent an electric joy through every fibre of her being, leaking out into the world outside her in the form of bright happy sparkles. 

“That would mean so much to me..!,” she sniffled, tears now pricking her eyes like  sparkling jewels from sheer joy.

And just like that, it was decided that Michael could stay at the Hazbin Hotel.

[ryuzakemo128]

Grim Reaper Part Nine

Pairing: Poly 141 x female reader / Female reader/ You x Her mental health x König

Content Warnings: Violence, bloodshed, injuries, Premeditated murder on the brain (Female Reader), swearing.

Words: 756

Note: Sorry for a short one. Wanted to get this one out. Next one will be longer I promise.

Masterlist - Prequel - Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine

Supernatural AU — Poem

Credit for Dividers:@cafekitsune + @strangergraphics

Summary: Was I stupid to love you? Was I reckless to help? Was it obvious to anybody else? That I have fallen for a lie. You were never on my side.  Fool me once, fool me twice. Are you death or paradise?

Was I stupid to love you? Was I reckless to help? Was it obvious to anybody else? That I have fallen for a lie. You were never on my side.  Fool me once, fool me twice. Are you death or paradise?

Was I the problem? Did I do something to make you hate me so much? 

Why didn’t you just leave me instead of lying so many times to my face?

Was I stupid to love you? Was I reckless to help? Was it obvious to anybody else? 

I hope you rot in this hell you have made yourself. It’s my last gift I will give to you.

You knew how my life was before I met you. Yet you still did this to me. 

Cold. Calculated. That is all you will ever be.

If I had the power to curse you. I would have done it long ago. 

Once I leave this house, this country all over again. Do yourself a favour. Stay away from me.

Stay far, far away from me.

Otherwise, I can and most absolutely will kill you myself.

If you wish to keep your life.

Stay in your country and I will stay in mine.

I don’t want to be pushed into a corner. But you keep being adamant on doing so.

Don’t blame me when I bite you. Blame yourself for ignoring the warning signs.

You are the reason we are no longer married. Take accountability for your actions and shut the fuck up. 

König. You still don’t know if that’s his actual name or just simply a call sign. He never told you either way. 

But what does it matter? 

The man who had once been the epitome of comfort and support in your life had become a shadow of his former self. The trust that had once been as solid as steel between you had been shattered into a million pieces.

Leaving a gaping chasm of doubt and anger in its place. 

The coldness in his eyes, the way he looked at you now, it was like you were nothing but a stranger to him. 

Someone who had merely crossed his path at the wrong time.

"I will leave, and you won't see me again." you snarl, getting up to get your things.

König remains seated, his expression unreadable. "Reaper, I know you're upset, but we need to talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about. You chose to cheat. You made that choice. Suffer the consequences. I'm not the one who needs to explain anything. You're the one who broke our vows.” 

“My life is in my hands. I will not become who you are.” You told him. Your knuckles turning white from the way you turned your hands into fists. You were so tired of the kind of excuses coming from the mouths of men who neither cared nor wanted you around. 

You weren’t going to let König know you again. To choose death than suffer through his presence a second time. It made so much sense to you. You do enough talk. What did you learn from your mistakes? Did you even learn from them at all? 

If he can’t see it. May he drown inside his endless well of pitiful tears. 

You are not his wife, his friend, his punching bag. The call sign ‘Grim Reaper’? You earned it for a reason. Too bad he’s too blind to see it. 

What has eyes but cannot see? 

Escape.

Escape and run faster than he can hope to catch up. 

If he can’t take the hint, then…..you would have to kill him yourself.

Can’t be too hard to kill a six-foot ten adult man, right?

You can hear the shouting between him and his girlfriend. A sickening, twisted grin spreads across your face. Sweet revenge for the child you lost years ago.  Weight began to lift from your shoulders. It wasn’t over by a long shot. But now you know how to twist the knife to get what you wanted in order to leave. 

To head back home where you felt like you belonged completely. 

Home. Your home. 

The one where you don’t have to hide from broken bottles, yelling, shouting, endless need to feel like you have to explain yourself. 

Could it still be there when you go back? Will it still be there now?

[the-great-papyru]

been thinking about how going through and getting used to the resets would genuinely limit flowey’s ability to do… well, basic things. like form conversations.

think about it. he’s scripted everything. and he’s had all the time in the world to work on scripts, too.

what if he hears someone talk, and through unrelated circumstances they say something they usually say in another, unrelated scenario. like… i dunno, when toriel gets killed in a certain way, she’ll say something along the lines of “how could anyone do something like this?” and flowey’s prone to responding with “oh, you haven’t even SEEN what i’ve done to papyrus!” because he knows if he does she’ll remember papyrus’ name and, if he times it right, warn sans, and that has a snowball affect that leads to his run being much more interesting.

and then toriel says the line post-pacifist for whatever reason (maybe she’s reading the news) and absentmindedly flowey immediately responds with his usual reply.

he gets several strong looks, and papyrus checks his back to make sure flowey didn’t attach a sticky note with the words “kick me” on it again.

or, okay, he’s used to thinking through responses until he finds the perfect one. sans gives him a “heya” and he spends 2 minutes trying to figure out what he means by that greeting, what he knows (flowey’s been struggling maintaining his pre-prepared facial expressions lately for some reason, no idea why) and how to respond in a way that doesn’t let on that he knows sans knows, but also let him know that he’s not letting down his guard, not to mention figuring out what face to say it with… by then, of course, sans has muttered a brief “uh. okay then” and walked away. and flowey can’t just reload to finally let loose his carefully crafted reply like he’s used to, either.

he honestly probably finds it easiest to talk to frisk. he doesn’t have a running tally of their likes and dislikes. so he doesn’t have enough to base lines on, and he’ll sometimes even end up saying the first thing that comes to his mind. crazy.

also. i don’t know about you, but when i get multiple choices in a video game i often choose the clearly “wrong” answer just to see what people say. you can’t progress after choosing it, anyway, so there’s no real loss.

i wonder if flowey has that same mentality. it might do a lot more than make people angry, though. like… let’s say toriel asks him “what would you like to eat for dinner today?” and he goes with eggplant parmigiana, he hates eggplant parmigiana it’s gross and chewy and obviously the wrong answer. and he just wants to see what she’ll say before he reloads and chooses the right answer (snails). he realizes too late what he just did.

so yeah, flowey would really struggle with talking, i think. it’d be a learning curve for sure. he’ll figure it out, of course, but it’ll take a while.

[seitmai]

Many thoughts

You want more than just his hands. You want a lot more than his hands. And when you’re at home, and should be sleeping, or at the very least on your knees in prayer, all you can think about is his mouth between your legs. His hands on your thighs, pulling your legs further apart to accommodate the width of his body. They way he’ll rise over you, and he’ll lay his cock over your mound. Begging you to look and see just how deep he’s going to be.

😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

Slinging the covers off your legs, you down at your modest nightgown. This isn’t good enough for Ari. Not that it’s ever stopped him before, but you don’t want to be hidden with him. You don’t want to look different with him. You want him to stare at you with wide eyes because you do have skin showing. Others could see, but you are only concerned about where his eyes are. You wanted to feel pretty with Ari. Look in the way that he makes you feel.

This is such a valid feeling!

���Did you choose those filthy books on purpose?” Of course she did. Those books gave you so many ideas, confused your brain, and made you long for something you didn’t fully understand. And Ari curses himself for how feral that thought makes him. You had a filthy mind from words alone, and he gets to nurture that part of you. Nobody else.

Whoops 🤭

“She’s a sexually frustrated woman, living in a community that tells her sex is bad — yeah,” She smiles, nodding her head proudly. “That woman needed to read those books, and she needed to know that her sexuality is beautiful. Now, how has that helped you out?” “One of them has a reverse harem,” Her mouth turns into an o, and then she smiles sweetly, only a little bit sorry. “You can’t do that. She,” Ari didn’t want to betray any of your trust, even if he knew his sister wouldn’t judge you. “She knew nothing. Multiple men is going too far.”

Oh come on Ari, those are some good books 😉

“Okay, so I won’t send the one with a gun kink,” Ari knows that Hannah’s mouth is turning into a wide grin. He knows how she is, and how she enjoys making him squirm.

Hahah love her 😂

“You’ve told me far too much information. Certain things as your brother I should not know,” Hannah shrugs. Her sole reason for living is to annoy her brother, and making him uncomfortable.

Sibling core 😂

“I kinda employ her. But she arrives before the stupid heads that work outside do. It gives me a chance to,” he smiles seeing your figure coming up the driveway. “Gives me a chance to twirl her around and smile before I softly kiss her lips.”

That's so cute 🥹🥰

He’s never had to teach, and still learn. He’s never really looked at sex as anything but pleasure. Your pleasure is the most fascinating thing to see, and feel. Coupled with the sounds that you try to hide. His favorite is how reactionary your body is because you just want to feel. But your ultimate curiosity is his drug. He can’t get enough. He doubts he ever will. But he will forever try.

Urgh he is so dreamy

“I don’t feel Amish anymore though,” it’s not so much as changing for him as it is, realizing that for most it’s just a stupid little dress. For you it’s taking back your womanhood that nobody ever gave you. You may hate the dress on your body, but you’ve never been given the choice of that dress. so you don’t know if it’s any better or worse than anything else.

I love that she gets to make this choice and (re)claim their power

“Can I get waxed today?” His eyes blow wide as he stares at you. “We’re going to town, yes?” “We’re going out of town,” he didn’t want to risk you getting caught, and prematurely being shunned by everything you’ve ever know. “Then I want waxed.”

Bold choice 🫡 I would not choose getting waxed as like my first thing haha

“Ari?” He hums as he wraps the bra around your body, “I just thought I would let you know that I’m always wetter when I’m around you,” he stands up straight just to give you complete eye contact. “Do you want to feel?” he shakes his head no, but you see he desperately wants to say yes. “Can I feel you?”

I love that she just says these things out loud🤭

“I’m trying,” he presses the softest kiss to your heated skin, and your back bows, arching into him, and his free arm goes around you to hold you up. He pushes your body more into his. “Ari,” your voice is almost a sob, and he moves his hand, rolling his body into yours. His bulge adding the slightest friction and pressure to your needy cunt. The absence of sex, making this so much more appealing to him. It’s the discovery of the action.

😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

“I’m not really taking my clothes off. Just,” you exhale slowly. You’re going to be stepping out with the English, without looking like you’re Amish. It slowly sinks in. You start with the bonnet, and Ari looks towards you, gawking. You choose to ignore him, while you adjust to feeling a bit more exposed. You’ve never removed the bonnet since being with him. It feels foreign, and yet, right, “The road is in front of you.” Ari stops the truck abruptly, putting it in park. He sits back a bit more comfortably, and turns to look at you. “Ari, drive,” you don’t mean it. You want him to look. “I’m just looking,” his eyes go up and down your body, and you peer at him through your lashes. “C’mere,” he curls his finger, beckoning you to him, but also, you into him. Upon seeing him, he looks like the most tender predator. Wanting to relax his prey before he devours you, “I’m going to kiss you.”

Don't kiss and drive ☝🏻🤭

There’s so much to see. So much to taste. So much to hear. You’re just overwhelmed with everything that is going on. Smiling at Ari freely as you walk through the mall. Letting him hold onto your hip, or hand. Whatever he wants. You like that he’s an overly touchy, and affectionate person, and how alert he is of everyone around you. You didn’t even care if he asserted his dominance and claim on you.

They are both so proud of being together out and about 🥰

“You don’t have to change anything, you know that, right?” “I want to get some razors,” you respond with finality. Nobody is asking or telling. It’s what you want to do. The freedom to make decisions for yourself. The freedom to make the choice on what you want to do. And you want to shave your legs. At least once. Maybe try makeup. Maybe try writing your own stories. Or watching a movie. “I just want to try everything.”

Yes 👏🏻

“Only for you,” if you could pout, you would. All you know is you need relief. And your answers are fuel to Ari’s restlessness to just take you. He would spend on night on his knees worshiping at your altar if that’s what you wanted. He would pray for you, bless you, you are his religion at this point.

🤭🤭🤭

Your body stiffens as it heats up, “You look so pretty when you’re about to lose control. The pressure and pleasure keeps building. Climbing,” your body is on autopilot as sounds and words wail out of your mouth that you have never heard. “Not stopping up,” something in your body snaps as a raging euphoria courses through your veins like blood, “Until you jump off that peak. What a good girl,” he praises you for reaching the finish line.

His descriptions is so 😮‍💨🥵🤤

How I'm Looking At You, Part 6

Summary: you go on a date

Pairings: Ari Levinson X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual content, teasing, anticipation, fingering, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 6.8K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

You can’t stop smiling. Smiling doesn’t even cover it. You’re always beaming from ear to ear. You can barely close your eyes without seeing Ari’s face. Feeling him all over your body. Obviously the sexy parts of your relationship are invigorating. But even without that, you still see his face, and hear his voice. His kindness, and his never judging you. Eventually in your daydreams you feel his hands all over you.

You want more than just his hands. You want a lot more than his hands. And when you’re at home, and should be sleeping, or at the very least on your knees in prayer, all you can think about is his mouth between your legs. His hands on your thighs, pulling your legs further apart to accommodate the width of his body. They way he’ll rise over you, and he’ll lay his cock over your mound. Begging you to look and see just how deep he’s going to be.

You don’t have to look, you can feel the weight of his heavy girth, and just know how deep he’s going to be. But you’re a curious kitten, and you have to look, and you chirp. Whimpering, and pawing at him because you don’t think you can take it all. And so softly, but with that deep timbre, he assures you, “We’ll make it fit.”

Everything is about the both of you. You sigh in frustration, pulling your hands out of your panties as you stare up at the ceiling. Nothing quite feels like Ari. Your fingers aren’t quite the same as his. And part of the appeal of having him with you is his breath, and his voice. But also, the weight of him. You haven’t had too much of him on you. Even just him leaning over you on the counter felt heavenly.

You’re glad Ari stopped things yesterday. Once you got away from him, and could breathe on your walk home, it felt right for him not to have had sex with you. Sex. Fuck. Rail. Rut. So many colorful words for just him coming into you. You wanted it. Wanted all of it. Wanted to explore all the things that the books talked about. And you also want to just listen to Ari about ’out there’.

The real world, outside of the community. It’s what you want. But every time you go out in public, you get gawked at because of the dress, and the bonnet. If you want to have a normal date with him, you can’t look like you.

Slinging the covers off your legs, you down at your modest nightgown. This isn’t good enough for Ari. Not that it’s ever stopped him before, but you don’t want to be hidden with him. You don’t want to look different with him. You want him to stare at you with wide eyes because you do have skin showing. Others could see, but you are only concerned about where his eyes are.

You wanted to feel pretty with Ari. Look in the way that he makes you feel. He makes you feel all swarmmy and warm in your belly. This bubbly feeling is always in your gut, and then a deep need in your core. A rapid flutter of your nether region whenever you see him. You want him. And you enjoy him when he’s not making your brain fuzzy. He’s also taken up for you which is more than you could say about the so called men in your community.

It’s easy, while you’re laying in bed to think you’re going to just ride off into the sunset with Ari. But then you hear the snore of your father, and know that you could never come back and truly be welcomed again. If they even knew what you were doing you’d be shunned, and labeled a harlot. You were no good for marriage.

To Amish man. You weren’t the most desired to Amish men, and if they knew what you and Ari are doing, you would be useless. But you’ve never been useless to Ari. So that settles that. Ari was going to have all of you. For as long as he would have you. You sigh. If Ari grew tired of you, and you couldn’t come back to the community, would you be okay? You’re more educated than most of the women here. Definitely more read — but you didn’t want to tell them that.

Before you fully decide you’re ready to leave with Ari, you need to know more. You want to feel more. You desire all of him. But his heart is what you really want.

Ari pulls away from the window, scowling as he talks to his sister, “When is she getting there? And is it dark outside? You should drive her there, instead of her walking. And how are those books working out for you?” She giggles on the line, while Ari growls in frustration. “What?”

“Did you choose those filthy books on purpose?” Of course she did. Those books gave you so many ideas, confused your brain, and made you long for something you didn’t fully understand. And Ari curses himself for how feral that thought makes him. You had a filthy mind from words alone, and he gets to nurture that part of you. Nobody else.

“She’s a sexually frustrated woman, living in a community that tells her sex is bad — yeah,” She smiles, nodding her head proudly. “That woman needed to read those books, and she needed to know that her sexuality is beautiful. Now, how has that helped you out?”

“You’re very strange,” Ari starts, narrowing his eyes as he stares out the window. His sister is too small with too big of a personality. But Hannah meant well, even if she was too personal. “What I can say is she reads all this, and has all these thoughts running through her head, and she’s just swimming in a sexual awakening. You didn’t have to go so hard on her.”

“Like which book?” She wiggles her eyebrows again, but she knows her brother has too many lines drawn when it comes to his sex life. For her, it even wasn’t about his sex life as much as realizing her brother is falling in love. He’s been given the time to fall because you haven’t jumped into sex too quickly.

“One of them has a reverse harem,” Her mouth turns into an o, and then she smiles sweetly, only a little bit sorry. “You can’t do that. She,” Ari didn’t want to betray any of your trust, even if he knew his sister wouldn’t judge you. “She knew nothing. Multiple men is going too far.”

“Okay, so I won’t send the one with a gun kink,” Ari knows that Hannah’s mouth is turning into a wide grin. He knows how she is, and how she enjoys making him squirm.

“Have you read this?” He doesn’t know why he asked. He just blurted it out, and now that it’s out there, he can’t take it back.

“Yes, It’s quite nice.”

“You’ve told me far too much information. Certain things as your brother I should not know,” Hannah shrugs. Her sole reason for living is to annoy her brother, and making him uncomfortable.

“Is she there yet? You know her schedule?” Ari nods his head even though his sister can’t see him. He knew everything. Except what you thought about when you are alone.

“I kinda employ her. But she arrives before the stupid heads that work outside do. It gives me a chance to,” he smiles seeing your figure coming up the driveway. “Gives me a chance to twirl her around and smile before I softly kiss her lips.”

Hannah sits quietly for a moment. Smiling at knowing just how happy her brother is. “Did you get my package?”

“It wasn’t addressed to me,” he responds flatly. He’s ready to let her go so he can give you the undivided attention you deserve.

“Your girlfriend really wouldn’t like me sending that to her house,” Ari’s eyes go wide, gasping, “It’s not lingerie. Most people would just consider it a dress,” Ari moans as he imagines you in a summer dress. He didn’t even care what color, or what it was supposed to be called, but the idea of seeing so much of your skin on display for him, and having people around that could see, but could not touch.

“You are a horn dog. But yeah, the package is plenty of clothes for her.”

“Hannah, you’re very weird sometimes, but I appreciate you. Now, I’ve got to go,” she mumbles something in the background about Ari being a simp, and maybe he is. Maybe, just maybe, he found someone worth all of it. Worth going against everything he thought was who he is.

And When you walk through the door, he knows he’s been lying to himself this entire time. But only because it was never you. There was never a woman whose eyes shined up at him the way yours do. Never was there someone that had a smile that literally radiated throughout your body. And he has never picked someone up and twirled them around, and he does with you every single day. Never has had a woman fold herself into him, and giggle against his skin. It’s the simple things. It’s you.

He’s never had to teach, and still learn. He’s never really looked at sex as anything but pleasure. Your pleasure is the most fascinating thing to see, and feel. Coupled with the sounds that you try to hide. His favorite is how reactionary your body is because you just want to feel. But your ultimate curiosity is his drug. He can’t get enough. He doubts he ever will. But he will forever try.

“Good morning to you, too,” your laughter sings up at him. “So what are we doing today?”

“You’re not going to be working in the kitchen all day,” you cock an eyebrow up to look at him, and he bashfully looks away. You’re not quite sure why it’s so cute, but also empowering knowing that you make Ari feel fuzzy. “Oh, my sister, she sent you a package. I might know what is in there, and I just want you to know you don’t have to feel pressured.”

“Did she get me a butt plug?” Ari looks away again, shaking his head with a smile, “I was wondering how close you English people can get with your siblings. Can I?” You’d noticed the giant box on his couch, but chose to ignore it. As soon as Ari nods his head, you spring into action, rushing over to the box. You’re sure whatever you’re doing is a sin, but pure excitement and joy just make sense. Someone has sent you a gift, and you’re just showing your appreciation.

The more time you spend with Ari the more you realize that the out of touch nature of your community is way overrated. You’ve never felt so much at ease as you do with him. Free to be who you want to be. He allows you to explore things you may like. Your father isn’t a tyrant like some of the men here, but he had his flaws. Sure Ari does, too. You’re sure you’ll see them eventually. But Ari seems to have your best interest.

Opening up the box, you squeal. Taking a look back at him before lifting it in your arms. “They’re going to be on the east field?” The furthest field away from the house. You’d wondered how you were going to get clothes, especially to surprise Ari, but his sister took care of that for you. He gives you a nod, and you start towards the stairs. “Can we do something today?”

“What did you have in mind, Darling?”

“A date?” He grins, and nods his head. Laughing when you squeal again. “I’ll put this under my dress. I can take it off when we get away from here?”

“I’ll make breakfast,” you squeal again. Your feet tapping in excitement before heading towards your room. He was going to be out with you in public. Laying the box on the bed, you rifle through each piece. Running your fingers over the different fabrics, and colors. Marveling at how well they look against your skin. Ari is going to get to see you without a bonnet. He’s going to see your legs, and arms, and cleavage.

He was going to see you as his equal. Nobody is going to gawk at you, point their finger, and make you feel like a science experiment. You’re going to be normal out there. You’ve always been different, and it’s honestly time to admit that you didn’t belong here. Even without Ari. You haven’t been happy for a long time. You’ve been starving for an escape, and release.

Your fingers stop on a green frock. It feels right. It will cover a bit, so you won’t have to feel too uncomfortable for your first time in English clothes. You’ve read enough books to know the thin straps will make for an easy pull down. Not that you’re expecting anything. And Ari wouldn’t do anything you weren’t comfortable with. But it could be an option.

You inhale sharply, and let it release slowly. Starting to undo your dress before you lose your cool. Glancing into the mirror, you shriek. “Ari!”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean — I didn’t want to startle you. Breakfast is finished cooking,” you bite at your lip, and nod your head. Looking at your reflection before submissively looking towards the floor, “You don’t have to change who you are for me.”

“I don’t feel Amish anymore though,” it’s not so much as changing for him as it is, realizing that for most it’s just a stupid little dress. For you it’s taking back your womanhood that nobody ever gave you. You may hate the dress on your body, but you’ve never been given the choice of that dress. so you don’t know if it’s any better or worse than anything else.

“Can I help?” He peers at you through his lashes, no bit of that predatory bear can be seen on him. It’s almost childlike, his question. Nodding your head, you spin around to face away from him. His fingers slide down the expanse of your spine. Leaving a trail of goose pimples in their wake, and making breathing more difficult.

It’s too quiet in this tiny room, and you’re sure that neither of you are in taking oxygen. He unfastens the safety pin, and lays it on the dresser. Pulling apart your dress, he watches the heavy fabric fall to the ground, and he finally exhales on your bare skin. The warmth of his breath heating up more than your skin. Peeking behind you, he’s in such deep concentration. Struggling to keep his hands by his side as he stares at you in just panties.

“I have to,” you gulp, wrapping your arms around your bare chest. “I need to put on the other — the other - other panties. Will you choose a set?”

He clears his throat, nodding rapidly as he turns to walk to your drawers. Before you had water to separate you and Ari. Now you have nothing. A bed mere feet away, and you feel so vulnerable in this amount of undress. “What about white ones?” You whisper, ‘yes’, and give him a smile as he holds them out to you, but you shake your head no. “What is it?”

“Can you put them on me?” You’re a little minx that has his cock throbbing, and swelling in his jeans. Instead of responding he sinks to his knees, and you spin around to face him, and Ari reaches up. Hooking his fingers around the panties that you’ve made, he pulls them down. Stopping when you're uncovered.

Ari presses a chaste kiss to your mound before his tongue darts out of his mouth. He runs the muscle through your split, and you whimper. Gripping onto his hair, you attempt to hold him there, but he pulls back, “Breakfast is getting cold,” smirking, he pulls those panties fully down, tapping on each foot for you to lift it out of the undergarment before he tosses them aside. “Let me see.”

His eyes roam up your naked body, stopping on your face as you drop your arms. Standing completely nude before him, and he’s fully dressed. The complete vulnerability and embarrassment adding to how utterly sexy this is. His cock may be pressing up against his jeans and ready to bury himself in you, but he's still in control. His eyes follow down every curve of your body before he holds open the panties. And you step into them.

His fingertips feel like a paintbrush moving up your skin, and once he covers your pussy back up, he presses the softest kiss against your covered flesh. “Ari?”

“Yes, Darling,” he keeps his face pressed up against your core, breathing your scent in deeply.

“Do you think I should shave?”

“I truly do not care,” that didn’t help.

“Would you show me?”

“How to shave your pussy?” You nod your head, among other things. You wouldn’t mind if he just helped you shave everything. He grunts as he stands, “Is that what you want to do?”

“I’d like to try it. Maybe I should wax it?”

“As long as you know, I don’t care. Whatever you feel comfortable with.”

“Can I get waxed today?” His eyes blow wide as he stares at you. “We’re going to town, yes?”

“We’re going out of town,” he didn’t want to risk you getting caught, and prematurely being shunned by everything you’ve ever know.

“Then I want waxed.”

“Okay,” giggling, you wrap your arms around his neck. “Let's finish getting you dressed. And we’ll go eat.”

“Ari?” He hums as he wraps the bra around your body, “I just thought I would let you know that I’m always wetter when I’m around you,” he stands up straight just to give you complete eye contact. “Do you want to feel?” he shakes his head no, but you see he desperately wants to say yes. “Can I feel you?”

“Darling, you’re killing me here. But go ahead. Touch me, and see just how your teasing ass has got me all riled up this early in the morning,” your eyes roll up to meet him. You’re constantly reminded of just how giant he is compared to you. How much he towers over you, and that thought alone makes you want to melt into him and let him hold you all day. “Go on,” he pleads.

Your hand lifts, and barely grazes over his bulge, causing his eyes to flutter. A haggard breath pushes out his lips, and you let your hand consume him. Laying your hand over the tight to the angry cock of Ari. You gulp at his size. The warmth. The pulsing. He is so heavy. Whimpering, you try to grip him through his jeans. Smiling when his mouth drops open. “You look pretty like that,” Ari opens his eyes to smirk at you.

“I don’t know if you can fit inside of me.”

“It’ll be difficult,” he whispers before cupping your pussy quickly, and you struggle to breathe, “Shh,” he steps closer to you, using his nose to pet over your neck. You lean, giving him easier access, “Breathe.”

“I’m trying,” he presses the softest kiss to your heated skin, and your back bows, arching into him, and his free arm goes around you to hold you up. He pushes your body more into his. “Ari,” your voice is almost a sob, and he moves his hand, rolling his body into yours. His bulge adding the slightest friction and pressure to your needy cunt. The absence of sex, making this so much more appealing to him. It’s the discovery of the action.

“I’ll make it fit if I have to,” his voice is broken, and you pout up at him. Even just his breath on you is such a taunt of something you desire, and don’t understand. “Darling, you should get dressed, so we can eat, and go out for a long long day.”

“Okay,” he steps away from you too soon causing you to sway back and he chuckles. “Don’t be cruel.”

“I don’t think I’m the one being cruel. You’re standing there with nothing but a bra and panties. I know you’re soaked, heated, and throbbing. And you just hand your hand rubbing on my cock. Who is cruel now?” He stands there smiling at you as you reach for the dress you intend on wearing.

“I want this to be a surprise,” he bows, and leaves you alone to get dressed again. Wondering exactly what you’re going to look like. What you’re going to feel like. He is desperate for you, and also getting turned on more by the waiting. It’s an exploration of who you are, and what your body can do. It’s everything. And so much more than sex. It’s primal. It’s — love.

“Should you be watching the road?” He looks quickly back to the road, but his eyes switch towards you again. He is struggling to keep looking at the road when you’re in the process of shedding your Amish dress. It’s unfair that he can’t watch, “Ari!”

“What?”

“I’m not really taking my clothes off. Just,” you exhale slowly. You’re going to be stepping out with the English, without looking like you’re Amish. It slowly sinks in. You start with the bonnet, and Ari looks towards you, gawking. You choose to ignore him, while you adjust to feeling a bit more exposed. You’ve never removed the bonnet since being with him. It feels foreign, and yet, right, “The road is in front of you.”

Ari stops the truck abruptly, putting it in park. He sits back a bit more comfortably, and turns to look at you. “Ari, drive,” you don’t mean it. You want him to look.

“You’re distracting me by looking so beautiful,” your cheeks flare with heat, and you bashfully look away. Being able to feel his heated gaze on your back. The tension and heat is palatable in this small cab. “Are you going to take the dress off?”

Inhale. Exhale.

Inhale. Exhale.

Turning your back to Ari, you peek over your shoulder, “Can you help again?” He responds by reaching up to the safety pin. Undoing it slowly before he slides his hands under the dress at the neck. Grazing over your skin as he removes the potato sack from your shoulders. His throat is so loud, gulping and trying to show some restraint with how much of your skin is showing.

Lifting up, you pull the ugly thing off you. Twisting straight in your seat, you stare out the windshield, struggling to look at him. “Should we not be driving?”

“I’m just looking,” his eyes go up and down your body, and you peer at him through your lashes. “C’mere,” he curls his finger, beckoning you to him, but also, you into him. Upon seeing him, he looks like the most tender predator. Wanting to relax his prey before he devours you, “I’m going to kiss you.”

“Okay,” and his lips slot against yours with no warning. Taking the last breath out of your body. It’s so soft and sensual, and you want more. You maneuver yourself onto your knees, inching your body closer to him. Closer. And then his hand pulls you harder, wanting you to be on top of his faster. He guides you to straddle his lap, and his hands settle on your hips, coaxing you to gyrate on him, and you take more. Rapidly rolling your hips, and moaning at the feeling.

Ari’s tongue tickles on your lip, and you open up. Granting him access, while your lungs scream for air that you don’t want to give them. You don’t want to waste any time apart from him. If you pass out from the lack of oxygen, it will be worth it.

“Get out of the fucking road!” The car behind you blares on their horn, and you jump away from him. Not embarrassed as much as you’re giggling. Your body is on fire. Slicked up, and humming from him, “Move!”

“I told you that you shouldn’t stop in the road,” Ari rolls his eyes as he puts the truck into gear. Letting it roll slowly down the gravel. “Do you think they know?” The last thing you want is to barely get out of the community, and someone see you grinding on Ari while making out with him.

“Nobody is ever going to know. And nobody should even care.”

There’s so much to see. So much to taste. So much to hear. You’re just overwhelmed with everything that is going on. Smiling at Ari freely as you walk through the mall. Letting him hold onto your hip, or hand. Whatever he wants. You like that he’s an overly touchy, and affectionate person, and how alert he is of everyone around you. You didn’t even care if he asserted his dominance and claim on you.

You watch every woman here. Seeing the way that they walk, and talk. How they react with their significant other, but there is one thing that bothered you all day, apart from the awkward and exhilarating waxing. It had been a wonderful day with Ari smiling and laughing with you. Even getting to try on some more dresses for him. And still one thing remained.

“Do you have a bathtub in your house?” Ari’s brows lift up. His smile crooks to the side, and he nods his head.

“I also have running water in my house, but we don’t have to tell anyone that. Why are you asking, Darling?”

“I’ve never shaved,” he nods. When silence surrounds Ari, it’s a lack of not knowing what to say, or how to approach you. “Do you have razors at your house?” he shakes his head no. “We should get some razors. And the creamy stuff.”

“You don’t have to change anything, you know that, right?”

“I want to get some razors,” you respond with finality. Nobody is asking or telling. It’s what you want to do. The freedom to make decisions for yourself. The freedom to make the choice on what you want to do. And you want to shave your legs. At least once. Maybe try makeup. Maybe try writing your own stories. Or watching a movie. “I just want to try everything.”

Ari is his usual self. Smiling and nodding his head.

This could cut you. It’s supposed to rid your skin of hair. A little bit of hair. Not too much because it’s only scratching the surface. But how does one hold their leg? How are you supposed to do anything when the water feels this nice? And you didn't have to boil it, you just got in and it’s fascinating.

“Ari?”

“Yes?” His voice is way too close. He’s just on the other side of the door, and you’re in here with bubbles and a razor. The door is now his enemy, but it’s separating him from you, “Darling?”

“Can I cut myself with this?” He’d never forgive himself if you cut your leg.

“Yeah. Do,” you hear a slight tap on the door, due to his head pushing on it. “I mean would you — um like, what I mean to say is…”

“Can you help me?” The door opens immediately, and you thank the bubbles for covering you up. Between his look of shock, and his roaming eyes, you feel beyond exposed. And you like it, “That was quick.”

“I was leaning my head against the door. I’ve been a bit concerned,” he doesn’t look concerned. He looks horny. His pants tenting again as you lift your leg. “I’ve been very very concerned with your well being, and not knowing what to do, or how to help.”

This is the hottest thing he’s ever seen. Bubbles cover your curves, while leaving just the right amount of skin exposed. And your leg propped up on the edge of the tub has him ready to blow a load just looking at you. He’s been on edge all day. First it was just removing the shell of a life you are ready to leave behind, and now it’s you looking like a siren, and guiding him to his death.

But today, it was the way that dress swished around as you walked. Or when you would bend over, and it would hike up your body. He slyly stood behind you so you could browse the shelves. Nobody else was going to look at you, but he did look cheekily. Imagined himself rucking the dress up to the swell of your ass. Maybe even press his hard length into your warmth. You made today difficult, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

And then, your little minx self had to have a hot dog. Had to. You insisted. Did you understand how suggestive that was, and it shouldn’t have been? He was ready to push you to your knees, and make you swallow every inch of his cock just so he could see tears in your eyes.

He’s currently exhausted because his thoughts range from purely just watching you discover your likes and dislikes, to the depraved thoughts of him sinking into your wet heat for the first time. The tears, the stretch, the inevitable blood, and the way that you’ll look up at him in confusion and love. Feeling beyond full with his girth, but hopefully you feel the — the something from him.

He can’t wait until he gets to kiss all over your body. Spreading so much passion over your skin. Making you soft and pliable. Spending so much time getting you worked up and relaxed that you open up easier. The taste of your skin is going to be heavenly.

“Ari, just breathe,” you giggle, biting on your lip like the cutest devil he’s ever seen. Dipping his hand into the water, he gives you a little splash. His own laughter erupts in the bathroom. “Isn’t that what you tell me?”

“Yes, but you don’t need to be using my words of wisdom against me,” you have truly rendered him speechless, and he wants to do this with you every single day for the rest of his life.

“Does it bother you that I’m in this bathtub naked?” He shakes his head. There is nothing about this moment that is bothering him. Making his resolve a bit harder, yes. Making his body uncomfortable with the wait, of course. And he’ll continue to wait.

He looks at you through his lashes before he holds up a hand, “Gimme your hand,” you do as you're told, and he presses your soaked bubbly hand on his crotch, “Do you think it bothers me?”

“I think you should get in the tub with me,” his eyes slowly close, and he takes three calculated breaths. “Nothing has to happen. But wouldn’t it be easier for you to sit behind me and show me how to shave,” Ari breathes a few beats before he’s lifting the bottom hem of his shirt. Stepping himself, while you hungrily watch.

Standing up he undoes his jeans, and rips them down. You don’t cower away. You stay staring at his body in awe. Your eyes follow the lines of his chest, all the way down to his cock that is at full mast. “You’re not going to touch me just yet. Scoot up.”

You lean forward, and let him settle behind you before you melt into his chest, “This is nice,” he’s so soft as his hands explore your curves. Ari ghosts his lips over your temple. His ministrations are so slow and calculated. His nose nuzzles into your neck as his kisses up the sensitive column, “I’ve never taken this much time on a woman.”

“How many were there?”

“None matter now,” you try to remain calm. Try to not let it bother you. Would knowing make it any better? Men like Ari didn’t come around often. And sure you have his attention now, but how long would it last?

Lifting up his left hand out of the water, you play with each of his fingers. Using your own to outline the digits, to see how much bigger his hand is than yours. “Ari, I don’t know if I want multiple partners.”

“I just want you.”

You aren’t sure if he understands. You want him, and still need to protect your heart. “No, I mean — I don’t want to sleep around. I don’t think that I would want to,” you sigh. Just let it out, “I want sex to mean something. I want it, but I’m glad you didn’t give it to me the other day. I want just one person.”

“I can live with that,” twisting your neck, you move your vision over his face, “I told you, I’m not in a rush. I’m enjoying this more innocent part of our relationship,” there is nothing innocent about this. It’s raw, and heated, and vulnerable. “And there’s so many ways to get off without sex. There’s so many things for us to talk about. And I believe I said I’d shave your legs. Put your leg on the ledge.”

His cock is throbbing on your back, and your heart and pussy are beating against each other. The low slow vibrations are a stark difference to the rapid pace of your heart. Confliction doesn’t even begin to explain the battle between your brain, heart, and aching core. The way he spreads the creamy shaving gel on you is like a drug.

You yearn for him in ways you have never yearned for anything. Your brain is so fuzzy, and your body wants, no, needs friction. It starts grinding on him of its own accord, and his growl on your ear does nothing to dispel the feeling. It desires even more. “Let me shave you first, and then I’ll relieve you.”

Whining, you struggle to hold still. Letting Ari pull the razor so carefully up your leg before he cleanses it in the water, and you’re back to wiggling, and moving. It’s becoming too much for you to focus, “Ari, I can’t,” you sound like a whining child, but you can’t help it. It hurts, you want some relief so bad. You are quivering with so much need. So much desire to have him, even if you also want to wait.

Ari doesn’t answer with words, he lets your leg fall into the water, rinsing it clean before he places each leg on either side of the clawfoot tub. the calloused tips of his fingers ribbon down your body before falling between your legs. Instead of going directly where you need him, he teases the apex of your thighs. Blowing heated air on you when you whimper out his name.

“You’re so fucking needy.”

“Only for you,” if you could pout, you would. All you know is you need relief. And your answers are fuel to Ari’s restlessness to just take you. He would spend on night on his knees worshiping at your altar if that’s what you wanted. He would pray for you, bless you, you are his religion at this point.

You take a sharp breath in as both hands move to your quivering cunt, and your body lifts up at the lightning that radiates from his fingertips. The intimacy of having him so close to you, and the only barrier is the water. It’s like you and Ari are finally fusing. You can think about the brain and heart parts later. Right now it’s just Ari.

“How is that?” He asks, pulling you apart, exposing your swollen clit, and he slowly rubs over it. “You like it?”

“Uh huh,” you liked it too much. Even if he’s going a bit too slow and gentle, he’s giving you where you need attention. Fulfilling too many desires, and not enough.

“You’re in a tub of water, and I can still tell just how slick you are. You’re so frustrated you can’t think, hmm?” You nod your head, and his movement is so swift you don’t even realize his finger circles your entrance, “It’s not enough, is it?” Judging by your actions, it’s not nearly enough, you’re body is screaming for his cock, but your mind is begging to go slower. He won’t be fucking you today.

“No. It’s not enough. Mmm!” His finger plunges into your warmth, and your body lights up. Your brain is blacked out, and your body is high as a kite. His palm flattens on your sensitive nub, while he moves himself in and out of you. “More!”

Adding another finger, you sob his name. Your body starts to follow his lead, pulling him in deeper. Faster. Harder. It could be crazy, but you want the burn, and stretch of feeling full with him. That added finger makes you feel so full of Ari, “More. Ahh!”

Ari adds a third finger with difficulty, and holds himself still. Kissing over your shoulders, and up to your neck while you fuck his fingers. Bucking over him just like nature wanted you to, “There you go. There’s my good girl. Taking three of my fingers just like a sweet little whore. And look at how needy your greedy little cunt is. Stretched so much for me,” you grind down harder. Desperately trying to race to the finish line, and never wanting it to stop.

It’s exhilarating that you get to make yourself feel like this. That Ari is giving you the ability to act on your desires. Your breasts bounce over the water, bubbles slosh over the side of the tub, and you just move faster. Envisioning what it will feel like to fuck him. What he will look like when your pussy is wrapped around his cock. Sleeving him in your velvety walls.

You get so close. Too close, and it overwhelms you. Panting, you stop. It’s enough. “Oh no, you don’t,” his fingers stab into with so much speed that your toes curl. Eyes rolling in the back of your head as you launch your body upwards. “You were so close. That wasn’t an orgasm. You keep going. Pushing yourself. Not stopping until you’re blind with pleasure, and forget how to breathe.”

Your body stiffens as it heats up, “You look so pretty when you’re about to lose control. The pressure and pleasure keeps building. Climbing,” your body is on autopilot as sounds and words wail out of your mouth that you have never heard. “Not stopping up,” something in your body snaps as a raging euphoria courses through your veins like blood, “Until you jump off that peak. What a good girl,” he praises you for reaching the finish line.

He still fucks himself into you, but the movements are slower. Softer. He coaxes your body down from its high. Waiting for your vision to clear back up. Ari peppers kisses all over your shoulders before you start to relax. “What does an orgasm feel like for you?”

“I’ve never had an orgasm inside of you, so I don’t think I’ve reached my pentacle yet. It’s explosive, just as yours. It’s otherworldly. It’s the best drug. But while you're still relaxed, put one of your legs back, and let's shaving,” how he could think of something so silly at a time like this is beyond your thinking. But you do it.

You lift up your leg, and he smears the cream back on your body. Sliding the razor up your skin, and dipping it into the water to clean it. You could take a nap in his arms. Nothing has ever felt quite so comforting like being in his arms post orgasm. The tenderness to your core, makes you smile. Ari had been three fingers into you. And you pray that you continue to feel him later. Giving you a reminder that it wasn’t a dream.

“Shh,” he’s so soft in your ear, and you try to open your eyes; they’re just extra heavy today, and your head jars backwards, “Get some sleep. I’ll finish up here, okay?” You respond with a nod of your head, “Will you let me dress you?”

You give him a nod, but smirk, “Will you look at my pussy?”

“Of course I will,” your mouth quirks up into a sleepy smile, “I gotta see just how stretched out I had you, okay?” As vulgar as it sounds, you didn’t care if Ari took it upon himself to look at your pussy as he dresses you. You hum in response, hoping he understands that you’re completely okay with him doing it. You want him to look.

Want him to see what’s his.

All his.

Only his.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @peaches1958 @seitmai

@smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989

@pandaxnienke @rogersbarber @buckybarnesisdaddy @theinheriteddutchess @patzammit

@theolivia-graham @steviebbboi @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @kandis-mom

[dzyntara]

I’m already working on a drawing inspired by this idea, but I’m wondering… what was Cinder like before he shattered the goodness in himself? We’ve seen Jay before he put on the Wolf Mask - we’ve seen Garmadon before Harumi brought back only the worst parts of himself. We know they were like totally different people (Nya says this exact thing) but we don’t know what Cinder might have been like.

We have a few scenes of him during his first few uses of Shatterspin, before he really starts losing everything other than the worst parts of himself. We see doubt and uncertainty in Cloud Kingdom, and a petty rivalry with Jordana over Ras’ favour. Maybe that’s something? Maybe Cinder wanted recognition - to feel important?

But then as he uses it more and more, we only see nastiness. He’s a bully, he likes being violent and cruel. He lies and he cheats and enjoys the power boost that comes from the Wolf Mask corruption.

We just don’t know what kind of person he might have been before. It also makes us wonder what effects that one use might have on Jay now that he’s vanished again - and Nya directly expresses concerns about this too. Even one use turned amnesiac Jay from kinda smug snd determined to downright cruel and hateful.

But CINDER THOUGH… He’s used the mask quite a few times by now, and he loves it. Is it the addictiveness of easy, accessible power? Why did he choose the ease of Shatterspin over the hard work and discipline of other techniques? Does he feel goodness holds him back from something? Has he completely lost sight of why he put it on in the first place? WHY did he put it on in the first place?

And yet after all the shattering he remains loyal to Ras. What qualities of “goodness” does the mask remove? Is shattering your goodness deceptive??? Does it instead enhance your worst qualities rather than erasing your best ones?

I NEED ANSWERS. I KEEP THINKING ABOUT HIM. THERE’S SO MUCH WE DON’T KNOW ABOUT THE BITCHY CHILD YEETER. He fascinates me. Who are you smokeboy

[laura1633]

I get that some people aren't as sympathetic as others but damn sending the amount of hate lando is getting at any other driver thats in the running for champion or already a wdc winner and fans go down on the haters like a pack ah wild animals.

The guy had to delete his socials so he could get some peace after brazil and he said himself that he didn't go to sleep and had stayed awake for 38-40 hours because i get it you don't like the guy i don't like him all that much ether but damn give him a break.

Anyway thats my rant what are your thoughts on the hate landos getting, even though i know your a lestappen supporter i want to hear what you think

I don't think Lando is getting any more hate than other championship contenders have received. I think Max had dealt with some pretty disgusting comments and abuse over the years (by fans and the media). I just don't see how the situation is any different if I am being completely honest.

I have sympathy up to an extent. I don't think people should be subjected to hate online and I think it's awful if that is then negatively impacting their mental health. That goes for all drivers though, just because another driver appears 'strong' they shouldn't have to tolerate more hate than others. I have never liked the narrative that the hate Max gets is fine because he can 'deal with it', he shouldn't have to deal with it and nobody truly knows how someone is actually being impacted.

At the start of the year I was pretty much neutral on Lando but I have to admit that I have not liked the way he has spoken about a number of things this year. I don't think he has been particularly gracious when it comes to Max, in fact there have been occasions where he has pushed a certain narrative about Max being overly aggressive to an already rather hostile media. I think kindness and respect should work both ways.

Having said all that I personally wouldn't go on to any drivers social media to send them hate and I think fans should be able to support the drivers they choose without being abused.

I don't know if this comes across as harsh or uncaring because I don't mean it to be but I'm going to tag this anti just in case 😬

[nalyra-dreaming]

Hi Nalyra, how are you? I hope you’re having a great day.

I only joined the iwtv fandom after s2 aired and I’m so happy I found it. I am however very confused by the level of Lestat hate though. I understand that 1x05 was a big deal for the fandom. What I don’t understand is how they’re still holding onto that but can ignore everything Armand stands for and has done. The Lestat hate also spills over into downplaying Sam’s performance which is maddening. I should’ve know, I’ve been on this hell site for way too long. The obsession with Armand in this fandom is just so huge (He killed Claudia, brainwashed and emotionally manipulated Louis for 80 years, no?) I don’t mean that I want everyone to hate Armand. I just feel like I missed something joining the fandom so late. (I’m strictly talking show here)

I thought I’d ask your insight cause I love reading your answers and take on things.

Hey nonny,

so... the way I see it, the very long hiatus between s1 and s2 made parts of the fandom believe that Lestat is the "big bad abuser white demon™"... because 1x05 and the "we had to kill Lestat" is what stuck in people's brains, and was left to fester for almost two years. People who doubted the tale were accused of being racists and abuse apologists, people who pointed out that Loumand might not be the big true romance the same.

The official podcast host called Armand "so much more healthy" for Louis, and some people took that for the truth, and not for the opinion of someone (who had also obviously not read the books). They literally ignore what Armand did for decades, choosing to go on and on about the big bad abuser, and "patriarchal domination", as they have been fed by the tale, never ever taking the step back to look at the tale, and that we know that it has been tinkered with, as Assad called it.

Hating Lestat was seen as the morally correct response, and certain people reflected that belief unto other fans, accusing them of what they faulted the fictional characters for.

This need to morally justify liking or watching is relatively recent in fandom and it is extremely futile for the VC and therefore IWTV.

They‘re all terrible and monsters by our standards.

Giving a more nuanced portrait of Lestat as built on the books brought me a lot of hate and accusations on my fics.

Certain parts of the fandom have also convinced themselves that the show is not at all based on the books, despite the show returning to all emotional main points, and the writers and creators posting their tagged books for all to see.

They have convinced themselves that Lestat, the main character of the VC, will not be that, but will be the abuser throughout, portrayed to be the antagonist.

To be honest, I wish them good luck.

You... are coming in to a more complete picture, and S3 will then add more to it still.

And I'm glad for it!

I am glad that the fans coming in after s2 might be more... chill about some things, because some things have already been clarified.

I hope they are.

I‘m glad you enjoy it here 🥰

I would advise to block freely, and to ... keep the long hiatus in mind, and where this came from, maybe. It might be easier to understand.

As it is, and going by the s3 trailer, and what the writers posted, and what has been stated already.... well, they are keeping quite close to the books.

And with that the very thing Rolin Jones has already stated will happen - namely Lestat taking (quote!) “the show hostage“ - and (quote!!) “setting the story straight“.

Sam and Jacob are co-leads after all, the show built on Loustat.

Some people seem to love to forget that.

[tessaaaaa]

Regarding the recent DBD season 2 "spoilers"

I feel like fandom spaces need to stop trying to seek validation from actors and writers everywhere. I get it. You want to know if what you have picked up from the show is true. Especially when it comes to shipping, it is important to people to have proof, to know that you are not reading into things. I have a 2 hour long Destiel presentation on my computer that I can recite from memory. I get it. But caring so much about what certain people have to say isn't healthy.

I understand that it is important for people to know if Charles and Edwin were ever meant to be Endgame. I care about that as well. I want to know if we we did read too much into their interactions. And I hate that we will never actually see them get together. But I personally didn't interpret anything we have seen so far on Cameo as suggesting otherwise. And even if it wasn't planned, it was still there subtextually. And things can change. Relationships develop, original endings can go in a completely different direction over the course of a show.

The thing with Dead Boy Detectives is, it got cancelled. Whatever they planned, it doesn't matter anymore. We will never see it, they will never see it. The characters belong to us now. We will never get more than those 8 episodes. Now we'll have to come up with everything else ourselves. Pick and choose what you like about the spoilers we have gotten. Don't like the idea of Edwin and the Cat King having sex? Okay. Then ignore it. It's not canon and it will never be. You do like it? Great! Have fun with it.

Free yourselves from the idea in the only right direction for a character and a story to take is what the writers dictate. Especially when those ideas will never see the light of day. Nothing is more or less canon than it was a week ago. That's how canon works.

Channel your inner 2014 tumblrina and have fun. It's why we're here. The world is already bad enough.