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temis-de-leon · 25 days ago

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The Nemean Lion

Characters: male!MC, Luke (platonic) and an unnamed old man

Summary and Disclaimer

Main Masterlist

C/W: some swearing, descriptions of violence and brief description of murder

A/N: very different from what I normally write, so tell me if I should add something in the c/w.

It'll teach you a lesson, his cousin had said.

It's either this or therapy, he had said.

Babysitting or therapy? More like suffering humiliation or showing weakness.

At least he was getting paid.

Although perhaps not enough.

The child, Luke, seemed to hate being with him as much as MC hated being there at all. London was cold and humid, too different from the sunny skies he was used to, and the rich people he worked for were fucking weird. There was no other word for them; plain weird with weird-ass names and a weird-ass taste in clothes. One of them didn't even know how to wear a jacket!

And he knew there were just weird because his family was rich as well and none of them were that fucking awkward. Violent, sure, and entitled to aggressiveness, but the safety of old money allowed them to indulge as much as they wanted.

Except for MC, but he couldn't really be mad about it; Meg did divorce him because she was afraid of him, after all, and it wasn't like he could go to an office, sit on a lounge chair and seriously say “I threatened and screamed at my wife because my stepmother pushed my buttons and provoked me”.

So babysitting it was.

However, if he had to hear “I’m not a child!” one more time, he might just bang his head against a wall until he bled and call it a day. It had been amusing at the beginning, but the bakery, or patisserie, as Luke insisted on calling it, was all the way across town and the kid had done nothing but yap like an eager puppy and then yell at MC with an embarrassed blush whenever he teased him for it.

Besides, the old stone path was treacherous, eroded by the wind, the strides of those who’d walked on it and the endless rains and storms that had conquered Britain since the dawn of times; and both of them had almost tripped and fallen more than once. After the first few times, MC had offered to carry Luke so they could get there faster, but the child had looked at him like he’d just murdered his mother, immediately walking faster to avoid him and prove a point and ultimately falling backwards as a result, which just made him feel even more embarrassed if that was possible. MC did consider placing him on his shoulder and ignoring his complaints, but wouldn’t that look like kidnapping?

He could not risk his chances. Being seen as a short-tempered madman by his whole community was already hard enough.

“Your ass is wet” he snickered, barking a laugh at the grey sky when Luke turned around with cheeks blushing in a scandalized expression.

“My what??”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Your butt is wet”

“I understood you the first time!”

“Okay, damn” muttered MC, which served only to receive another appalled look. Was he babysitting a preteen or an old lady?

Maybe he was a sheltered kid? His tutor, a young father or an older brother, MC wasn’t sure, looked like a youth pastor dressed in a navy uniform, so maybe swearing and behaving inappropriately were non-existent in their house.

“It wasn’t my fault I fell; you know”

“I never blamed you” he said kicking a rock down the street. “But you wouldn’t have fallen if you’d let me carry you…”

Luke interrupted him, balling his fists until his knuckles were white.

“You carry a child! I’m not a child! I can walk perfectly fine. Hmph!”

“You can also fall perfectly fine; nice form back there”

“Shut up!”

He chuckled again, nicer that time, and lightly pushed Luke so he would keep walking forward, but a quick movement on the porch beside them brought his attention.

It was a man, but he couldn’t pinpoint how old he was. Half of his face was covered by a long bushy beard and the insane amount of muscles made him look younger. Not even the fur and leather jacket he wore helped cover his bulky body. His eyes were light brown, almost golden and surrounded by wrinkles and age spots, and when they disappeared behind the window and the front door opened a few seconds later, MC’s first impulse was to grab Luke by the scruff of the neck and place him behind his body. Whatever argument the kid tried to say died under the man’s voice.

His stance was powerful too, not an ounce of weakness emanated from him.

“Shut your fucking mouths, the both of you” he rasped, his voice unsurprisingly deep. MC could feel Luke shrink as if trying to hide from the man, no sound came from him. “You’re talking too damn loud”

“I think those are the voices in your head, man”

A tiny fist punched his back repeatedly, silently urging him to stop talking. Unfortunately for Luke, he almost couldn’t notice the hits.

“We’re just passing by, using the sidewalk like good-behaved civilians” MC said nonchalantly, keeping his hands inside the pockets of his jacket and opening his arms as if showing the deserted street. The man frowned and licked his teeth, looking at him from head to toe, clearly assessing him. “If you have a problem with that, suck it up and cry to whoever gives a shit about you. I know I don’t”

“You…!”

In the span of a second, the stranger crossed the distance between them and looked down with a sneer. He was bigger than him, angrier and more willing to punch, but MC knew he could win the fight if they ever happened to start one. However, Luke was shaking like a leaf and even though the wind had risen and the sky threatened to hide the sun again, MC knew it wasn’t due to the cold.

“Hey, not my fault if you’re lonely” he muttered after swallowing his pride, trying not to chuckle without bothering to hide to curving corner of his lips. “But if you’re into that shit we won’t bother you anymore“

“You’re crossing a line, kid”

That made MC chortle.

He would’ve already struck with a fist by then had it been any other situation, especially when his ego was so sore by his brand new living arrangement.

Although only a few months had passed, his vision still went blind each time he remembered the argument. If only his father had been there when everything happened, the situation would’ve been extremely different, but who knew where he was? Probably getting more random women pregnant. Instead, they had his stepmother, his father’s first and only wife, who had single-handedly stripped MC of his inheritance to give it all to his cowardly cousin, whose solution to resolve the scandal “faster” had been to send MC away.

And now he was babysitting a preteen and dying to fight an old man in the streets of London.

“You were sitting by the window watching children go by; if we’re talking about crossing lines…”

He missed the Mediterranean sun and the burning feeling on his shoulders amid summer; having someone by his side each morning and no worries that could keep him awake at night.

The old man quickly grabbed the collar of his jacket before pulling him towards his alcohol-reeking body. He bore his teeth, hardly visible under the unkempt beard, and sneered when MC smiled with twisted satisfaction.

An almost imperceptible tremble behind him made him retreat in an instant.

“Be bitter on your own” he ended up saying after forcefully peeling himself out of the grasp and taking a few steps back. He grabbed Luke’s bicep in the process to drag him by his side.

The man was fuming with fists clenching in unrestraint rage but thankfully stayed where he was.

“And leave the rest of us out of it”

So they left.

Their bodies, at least. A part of MC wished to stay behind in search of warmth and the smell of copper.

What loneliness did to an angry man…

Silence stayed between them for a long time, even when they finally reached the damn patisserie and stood outside to wait in line. A poster on the window warned a maximum of two people inside the tiny establishment and the old-fashioned doorbell only rang every few long minutes, so it seemed they’d be there for a while. Those around them were chatting, mindlessly commenting on the menu’s options and the impending storm that would eventually ruin their evening’s plans; the distant thundering only proving their point.

“I don’t get it, though” he said trying to ignore his inner turmoil. Luke raised his head to look at him, obviously impatient to go in and order some sweets. “Why did you want to come here? Why not bake whatever they sell? I thought you were good”

“I am good! Even Michael loves…” his voice suddenly stopped and his face contorted in regret.

He’d said something he shouldn’t have, hadn’t he? MC squatted, immediately distracted and interested, and smiled at the kid with morbid curiosity.

Morningstar had introduced him to Luke’s tutor in the morning, mere minutes before shamelessly leaving him under his care and going to who knows where to attend some business. Simeon, a pretty guy if MC had ever seen one, had given the same excuse, but, if he saw correctly, and he knew he did, both had gone in different directions. Had any of them left to go see this Michael?

“Who’s that?” he urged. Unfortunately, despite looking so nervous, Luke wasn’t willing to talk about it.

“No one!” he answered, but he sounded furious at his own response. He opened his mouth again but changed the subject at the end, much to MC’s disappointment. “If you’re that interested, I’m going to buy puff pastry cups; here they bake them with a secret ingredient, so I want to experiment with different fillings at The Angel’s Halo”

“You know you won’t be able to sell them, right?”

“Yes, but I’m okay with that. I like to bake, regardless of any compensation I might receive. As long as my friends enjoy it, then I’m happy!”

And golly gee, wasn’t that a beautiful mindset?

MC tried not to roll his eyes, equally amused and exasperated at the child’s kindness. He had never met anyone so virtuous, let alone a boy that young, and it got him to briefly wonder if there was the slight possibility of having been as innocent as Luke had his family been completely different. On the other side, what if they were doomed to fail from the start? The thought was infuriating and made his muscles tense once again.

“Do I get to have one too?” he muttered, trying to get the sour taste out of his mouth. Imagining a homemade dessert was a decent solution.

“You?” answered Luke with raised brows, surprised by his request. He then frowned and crossed his arms with a dignified expression. “You really think you deserve it? You used some bad words back then”

He chuckled at the reprimand, feigning ignorance with obscene exaggeration.

“Bad words? Which ones?”

“I’m not going to repeat them!”

“Are you gonna give me one of those sweets if I swear I won’t say them again?”

“I… I don’t know! Maybe!”

“Okay, I’ll make sure not to say them in front of you then”

“Wait, no- That’s not fair! And you said you didn’t know which ones I meant anyway!”

A melodic ring interrupted their conversation, finally letting the last customers get out of the store and filling the narrow street with the sweet smell of butter and sugar.

“C’mon, don’t think about it too hard”

“Wait…!” he tried to protest, but MC was pushing him inside the cosy establishment without paying any attention to his words.

The rest of the evening passed faster than he would’ve imagined when he was given his task that morning. Luke, as annoying as his moral compass was most of the time, had a way of keeping the conversation going without being irritating or repetitive, even with their limited topics. He was curious and naïve but also had a fiery determination and the more MC teased him the less offended he acted about it.

In the end, they came back to The Angel’s Halo discussing their favourite flavours and toppings, staying like that for hours. When Simeon returned, quiet and reflective, the night had already claimed the sky and had brought dark clouds and the bite of cold wind with it. After that, it was only a matter of time until it started raining and, before anyone could realise it, the sidewalks were already covered in dirty water.

MC knew the moment he stepped out of the café that he should’ve gone back to Serenity Manor, reported to Morningstar and cleaned off the heavy rain with a shower, but his feet thought otherwise; even when his t-shirt clung uncomfortably and the drenched denim jacket added unnecessary weight to his stride. For some reason, instead of the blankets and the sweaters waiting for him in the guest room he’d been assigned, his memories were swarmed by a vaguely familiar fur and leather jacket.

That old man was stronger than him and more intimidating too, but also bitter and lonely. There could be a million reasons why an elder ended up without a family: opportunities lost to time, death, rejection… Wrongdoings? But MC couldn’t care less. It didn’t even matter. At the end of the day, they were both sides of the very same angry coin, with the difference that only one was wearing a good jacket.

And MC swore on his father’s blood that it would be him.

With a mind clouded by senseless ire, he ignored the clean modern road leading to the manor and went instead through the streets he had walked hours before with Luke. Who knew if MC was alone because no one was there or because those who were had chosen to hide, but the idea of still being respected, even if caused by fear, felt better than he cared to admit. It was flattering.

MC could notice his heart beating faster as the old man’s house appeared in his vision. It reminded him of one time, years ago, when he had gone with his brother and their mother to the zoo and they had all stared at the lions’ enclosure with yearning and excitement; the desire to reach and touch the mane and golden coat strong enough to give him energy for two days and tire his poor mother.

He needed that jacket.

Although some houses nearby had the lights on, no one was there to hear him jump the gate. He crossed the small overgrown garden and stared at the inside of the house through the window glass, just as the old men had looked at Luke and him earlier.

The living room was dark and empty, including furniture and decoration. There was only an armchair placed in a corner next to a worn-out standing floor lamp and a simple table with stacks of paper stuck under a couple of its legs. As far as he could see, the end of the hallway showed no light either.

MC clicked his tongue, ignoring the tendrils of impatience before walking towards the door in a crouch and pushing it softly. It opened with a creak but emitted no sound as it closed and, once he was inside and the dark engulfed him, he quietly locked the deadbolt. Whichever reason the man had for keeping his home open, whether it was his arrogance or no possession of value, wasn’t interesting to MC.

There, in silence, he could only hear his own breathing, the speed of his blood flow, the faint ticking of a clock and the constant humming of an appliance. The lack of snoring in the house did nothing but excite him even further. It did not matter to him what state the old man was in; deep in slumber or wide awake, being caught by surprise would leave him weak and at a disadvantage.

The kitchen was at the end of the corridor, illuminated only by the moonlight through the curtains. It had a backdoor, which MC quickly closed before leaving and going straight to the stairs.

A wide taxidermy collection decorated the halls. The creepy and empty stares of the stuffed animals seemed fixed on him as he stepped over the carpeted floors to make as little noise as possible. There were skulls on the walls too and weapons scattered around, especially hunting knives and machetes. He noticed some were stained and, after little consideration, chose to ignore it.

No family pictures or portraits to make the house more human; just the stench of death. Recollections of past violence.

A messy office, a bathroom reeking of mould and, finally, the bedroom.

The door was ajar, so opening it enough to enter comfortably wasn’t difficult, although It creaked a bit. Thankfully, it was still raining and the noise went unnoticed, so before he could even realise it, MC found himself looming over the old man.

MC saw with surprising indifference that he had taken off the leather jacket to carelessly throw it over a chair for the night. He could grab it, leave and let the situation stay as a petty theft; but what then? Would he ever be able to wear it comfortably out of the privacy of the house?

He looked down again. The old man was sleeping, face up and mouth open, and for a glorious moment, he looked frail.

Without thinking much about it, MC leaned over and grabbed the other end of the pillow with slow movements, careful not to make any noise. He lifted his knee at the same time, placing it over the man’s pelvis and, once his body was somewhat aligned over the laying one, he pushed down as strongly as possible, pressed the pillow against the man’s face and seized his thick neck with an iron grip.

The denim protected him from the scratches, but he would still have bruises the next day. The hits hurt, of course, and it seemed the old man was trying to bite him through the pillow. Unfortunately for him, there was nothing in MC’s bitter mind besides the bone-chilling coldness of the city and the reminder of an empty bed back at Serenity Manor.

The rain was heavier than before if that was possible, but at least he’d leave that awful house with a good jacket.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010 @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf

#obey me #obey me! shall we date?#om! shall we date #om! swd #obey me x reader #obey me male mc #obey me male reader #obey me x male mc #obey me x male reader #obey me luke #obey me writing #obey me angst #obey me hurt/no comfort #the 12 labours of mc #obey me fanfic

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horizon-verizon · 2 years ago

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I think Aemond is an interesting character. I enjoy his character even though I don’t agree with his goals because I’m Team Black. However, I do think one thing that people forget while judging Rhaenyra’s reaction to him losing his eye is that Luke literally said “He was going to kill Jace” after the fight. Rhaenyra heard that. She also heard that Aemond called them bastards, which is not just an insult, but is something that can very much threaten their lives

So yes Aemond is her brother, but she has heard that her brother threatened her children in two different ways, so of course she prioritizes her children and wants to find out where Aemond heard the rumor so she can shut that person down and protect her children

Rhaenyra is a mother first and foremost, and she heard that Aemond was about to kill Jace which is why Luke cut his eye in defense of his brother. I don’t for a second believe that Rhaenyra actually wanted Aemond tortured. She just wanted Viserys to do what he did, ask him where he heard the rumor, so she could shut down the source of the rumor once and for all

Anon is referring to the ask HERE.

A Little More from Episode 7:

Aemond: Then you should've claimed her! Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride. It would suit you. ( yells, fight*)

Aemond: Come at me again and I'll feed you to my dragon! (more yelling and fighting)

Aemond: You will die screaming in flames just as your father did! Bastards.

Lucerys: My father's still alive!

Aemond: He doesn't know, does he, Lord Strong?

Yeah, anon. Whether or not Aemond was actually going to seriously hurt either of Jacaerys or Lucerys at that moment, whether or not he had his rock down as he threatened the others *EDIT*(he actually picked up the rock a 2nd time)*EOE*:

his threat to have Vhagar kill them

the vivid imagery of a dying man in flames

serious insult of “bastard” (as an insult alone, it’s a word with similar value as someone calling a woman a “cunt” in the U.S.)

PLUS the already existing rivalry (that’s never delved into in the show because of the jump cuts)

PLUS how they were fighting in the moment, thus the high volatility

PLUS if he and they all always duked it out (in those jump-cut scenes), and the V boys hheard Aemond say this thing that Jace would have been sensitive to (episode 6, Rhaenyra answers him whether Harwin is their dad)

He felt that Aemond was a real threat then. Whatever we the audience think, he had very good reasons for feeling so. With the boys already having real beef, for years, why wouldn’t Lucerys feel that Aemond would seriously hurt them?

Plus, they were younger than Aemond, so they will have much less control over their emotions and fight/flight response.

I also do not think that either Show! or Book!Rhaenyra desired to seriously harm Aemond. It’s about priorities, and one’s own children will always come first.

Some people feel that Rhaenyra has to be over-accommodating towards absolutely everyone else except herself all the goddamn time--at risk to herself and her kids.

It’s like people expect her to look at her own kids as if they are less then, that she should look at herself as “impure” or evil for not following terrible, unfair, and discriminatory rules set against her. they want her to feel guilt and shame, hang her head and submit to others’ attacks because she’s wrong and they’re right.

But wouldn’t that make her into a horrible mother, to do nothing?! Rhaenyra is damned if she does, damned if she doesn’t even with some green stans, some Rhaenicent stans, or anti-Targs.

Why don’t they say that Alicent shouldn’t have charged Lucerys--a boy much younger than her own son--and try to take out his eye? Lucerys is the blood nephew of her own son. And her husband’s grandchild. It isn’t about blood relations and family affection for her son but because she hated Rhaenyra.

It’s sexism and misogyny from her as well as from the groups I listed.

I really can’t believe that if Rhaenyra was a man and the male heir apparent, and if {male-Rhaenyra} decided to hide the fact that his firstborn was not his wife’s, that people would cry: “Well he should have scolded his child and considered how much Aemond wanted his compassion and treat him as his real blood brother. He’s being so unfair!” (He would have a much easier time anyway since no one would question him as hard as they do Rhaenyra for choosing to just never reveal that his child was not his wife's in the first place. Because his position as a male heir wouldn't be as questioned because of his maledom, definitely not in any way the same as Rhaenyra is...which is the point of the Dance's conflict!)

No, anon, some people--including the dudebros who hate Rhaenyra and love or approve of Alicent--would say {male-Rhaenyra} was a pathetic little bitch boy, or call him “weak” for not challenging Alicent directly or for even “indulging” in Alicent’s call for his child to have his eye taken in recompense.

#rhaenyra and aemond #hotd episode 7 #hotd #asoiaf asks to me #hotd comment #asoiaf #vhagar claim #rhaenyra targaryen #rhaenyra's characterization #aemond's characterization #fandom commentary #hotd fandom #asoiaf fandom #fandom misogyny

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hearteyesandviolence · 3 years ago

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The Wilds Season 2 Thoughts: Episodes 7 and 8

I've been dreading these eps. Not just for the angst. For the uncertain future ahead. But here we go.

-Rachel taking charge is a really nice character choice

-The splinter in the boys group is interesting, but I just don't have enough investment in the characters for it to mean much.

-For my money, Toni making Dot feel guilty after she saved Martha's life is just as bad as any guilt she puts on Shelby.

-Part of what I hate about how the show treats Toni is they never seem to give her enough moments to be strong. All the girls get their ugly moments, but they also seem to get moments of great strength to balance that out, and I feel like that's lacking for Toni.

-I have to say, Seth is a pretty well done character. Acting like a romantic comedy lead while being a predator is an upsettingly real choice.

-Not what I should have focused on, but damn, they couldn't have photshopped that Navy Pier picture a little better?

-Look, I don't hate the boys. I don't. But it's not great that my favorite male character on the show, with the possible exception of Agent Young, has been Hallucination Ben Folds.

-And so we get to the scenes I’d been dreading for a year….I was prepared for fighting, yelling, tear filled breakup scenes. This was worse, though. The silence. The short accusing, look. The small,quiet disdainful comments. And finally that damn head shake. It broke my heart so bad.

That said, I do understand Toni’s mind in this moment. Not defending it, not saying it’s all healthy, to Shelby, to the others, or to her. But I understand it based on what we’ve seen of her struggle with her emotions. Just last episode her girlfriend telling her she loved her caused her to snap at all her friends. Of course something like this is going to send her spiraling. And of course her brain is going to go to an angry place and bring her back to that thought that maybe if Shelby had acted, Martha could be in a hospital right now. That’s not fair to Shelby, and I think deep down Toni knows it. But she can’t turn it off. It’s why she barely says anything to her because she doesn’t want to say something she can’t take back. For me, when she agrees with Shelby that there’s no way back, it’s not because she thinks Shelby is unforgivable, but because she doesn’t think she can get herself out of the ugly headspace she’s in. I think she regrets it soon after. Certainly in the bunker. I wouldn’t be surprised if that’s where “when you’re alone, all you can hurt is yourself” comes from. Hell, I kind of wonder if the copter hadn’t shown up when it did, if she might not have tried to make amends with Shelby right there.

-As frustrating and heart breaking as it is, Erana acted the hell out of Toni’s breakdown/lashing out.

-Geez, after months of us cooing over Shoni sharing clothes, they really knew how to use that to break our damn heart.

-I remain sad that Toni gets little to do out side of the Shelby or Martha relationships. Obviously l love Goodfoe together so much, as well as her sisterhood with Martha, but she’s got so much potential as a character on her own and it feels so unfulfilled.

-It's a bad wig, but I actually do kind of like Shelby’s trauma haircut.

-The bar scene. I cannot believe it. We got an AU in the show. Amazing.

-So. Femme Toni. I have mixed feelings. Obviously, she looks amazing. And as someone who mostly resides in the masc realm, but likes to step into high femme from time to time, I actually really connect with seeing a masc girl go femme. But. It's also a very short walk to devaluing what has been put forward for Toni thus far. But it's also Shelby's dream, so who knows if it has deeper meaning? I don't know. It simultaneously kind of wowed me and really rubbed me the wrong way. Which is kind of this season in a nutshell.

-Thinking on it, maybe it was to give us a sign from the beginning that something was off? Using some dream logic? I dunno. It's a choice, I'll give them that.

-So Shelby's working for Gretchen. But based on the dream, and her muffled scream at the beginning, it's not something she feels good about. Based on the song choice, maybe it was the only way to bring Martha back? I really hope we get season 3 so I get can get some answers.

-Rachel taking care of Martha for two eps is fueling my Reidburn ship.

“I never won't love her.” That is such a beautifully awkward expression of undying love.

-Canon Leatin. I cannot believe it. What a beautiful thing.

-I'm dead serious. Hallucinatory Ben Folds is my favorite man on this show.

-Back in season 1, when we hadn't seen Martha in the flashfowards, I had a hunch....that she might take over Nora's role as the confederate....I still think it's a possibility, for the record....at least I think she's involved, if only as a bargaining chip.

-The boys were fine.They were. But the girls are amazing. And giving me half of a good show and half of an amazing show is so damn frustrating.

-The Toni/Shelby bunker reunion is of course, way too brief. That moment of them looking around and suddenly staring right at each other could have been beautiful but they rushed it. Still, it’s a nice picture of where I think they’ll go if we get a season 3. I think Toni will try and reconnect with Shelby and Shelby will be uneasy around her because she doesn’t want to lie to her…

-Seriously, this all works so much better if it's a cult rather than a social experiment.

-This better not be where the show ends. The cast trapped on an island with Seth. That would be so goddamn depressing.

-The acting on the girls side was fantastic throughout, but I think MVP of the season has to go to Reign Edwards.

-I love this show. I hate this show. I'm meh about this show. It's such a goddamn rollercoaster.

-See you in season 3? I hope. I'm not optimistic. But I'm not hopeless either.

#the wilds #the wilds spoilers #The Wilds Season 2 Spoilers #toni shalifoe #shoni #goodfoe #shelby goodkind #fatin jadmani #leatin #leah rilke #ben folds #Martha Blackburn #dot campbell #rachel reid

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ironwoodprotectionsquad · 2 years ago

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I have....thoughts and questions about this post. First question is, how is the statement “Eh it’s not a black and white situation.” hateful in any way? Given the reply above this person definitely had the right to give a longer response and rebut some of the nonsense in it but this person just politely disagrees and leaves it at that. But somehow that is “harassment” and “hate” and it’s misogynist to simply disagree and think a situation is far more complicated then presented. And the issue is, the situation is very complicated and not so black and white. You’re the one insisting its misogyny to not like a female character rather then accept the MALE writers of the show can’t write female characters well.

Their is also just so much wrong in the reply from Reddit I don’t even know where to begin. First off how do they come to the conclusion that Robyn only started STEALING from James after the election? Nevermind the fact that they tried to pretend it wasn’t as bad as it was by using the word relieved instead of stealing, why else would Ruby, Penny, Clover and Qrow be on the trucks unless people where stealing the supplies. ALSO Robyn’s people where trying to sneak behind the truck while Robyn distracted everyone to STEAL THE SUPPLIES they only stop because Penny catches them and orders them to stop. She no, Robyn wasn’t just trying to figure out what was happening to the supplies, she was going to steal them BEFORE the election. And I hope they realize Robyn losing what for all intents and purposes appeared to be a fair election and deciding the proper response is to steal from the government isn’t good either right? Robyn also doesn’t just steal supplies, she steals them and then also gets supplies to stop even selling James anything to make up for the stolen goods which becomes all the more ridiculous because she says they have to stop selling to James until he repairs the city....how exactly does anyone expect him to repair anything if they cannot purchase any supplies to do so? Had things not happened the way they did a few weeks later Robyn would be screeching about how James is still refusing to repair the city despite her purposefully blocking him from getting any supplies.

Also gotta love how this user decided that exploding the mine was the game plan to launch the mines all along ignoring the fact that Amity wasn’t finished yet. And actually yes, a few truckloads COULD prevent the tower from being completed because the trucks are GOING to Amity because they are NEEDED to actually complete the damn thing. They wouldn’t bother sending it to the tower if it wasn’t needed for some reason. Even ONE truckload of stolen goods could delay the project for however long it took to replace said supplies depending on what is going on and by after election when no one is willing to sell anything anymore? She did stall the tower and cause it to be delayed in being complete. That is ENTIRELY Robyn’s fault for stealing supplies and then causing everyone to refuse to sell James anything further.

Talking about how poorly Robyn was written and how she was actively harming Atlas and Mantel with her actions is not Misogyny. It is not Misogyny in fact for a female to screw up. Robyn screwing up and causing harm because she didn’t know she was causing harm is an interesting scenario to explore. It could have been used to further the theme of trust and how important it is and could have been how RWBY realizes that James is making the mistakes he is because he just doesn’t know what he is doing is a bad idea. Instead of the cringe line about James “FiNaLlY” telling the truth being how he “Earned” the right to know the truth, despite them throwing the mother of all fits when they found out Ozpin lied by omission, have them realize how even though trust is hard and scary they need to trust so they can build a plan on how to defeat Salem together and united. Instead we get a cringy “Moral” that falls flate because of the mains former actions. James wasn’t “finally” telling the truth, he had been all along to the people he felt he safely could tell until Atlas was in a state that could handle the inevitable floor of grimm and fear that came along with the news.

The original comment was not hatefull or misogynist, it was an opinion from someone with critical thinking skills who watched the show and formed their own opinion. People can dislike female characters, they can think female characters are terrible people, or are assholes, or should not have been in the story. They can loath a female character with every fiber of their being and not by a misogynist because we are all human beings with emotions and thoughts and feelings and no person can be liked by every single person because people are different and that is okay. This poster wants woman to be help up on a pedestal which is actually extremely harmful.

#RWDE #Anti Robyn Hill #Robyn Hill Critical #Pro Ironwood #Pro James Ironwood #James Ironwood #General Ironwood #General Dadmiral #Dadmiral Ironwood

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aforrestofstuff · 3 years ago

Text

Chapter 149 Expert Review Time

Hey gamers what’s up time for another CHAPTER 👏 REVIEW 👏

It was looking kinda bleak last time for pretty much everyone so I’m hoping things improved this time around, but it seems Murata and ONE are kinda going through their “I’m going to put my characters through the MOST” phase so… that feels unlikely. But nevertheless… still excited to see my favorite boys.

The 10000th Psychic Sister cover. Murata, I’m begging you. There’s literally like 30 other characters to choose from. I know you like drawing boobs but imma need you to put the pencil down for a minute and take a walk because this just ain’t IT.

“Summer is coming” it is July. Summer has been here for ten years. I’m so fucking hot all the time. Everything has been evaporated out of me and I’m literally a raisin.

The Psychic Sisters covers are just so devoid of life a lot of the time… I wouldn’t mind if it was them fighting or engaging in everyday activities but when they’re posed for the camera and deliberately placed there to look sexy it just sucks all the human out of them. The cover/splash page is a great chance to show characters in a new light!!! It’s mostly set away from the story so you can do whatever you want! Choosing to make 80 fanservice covers is just wasted opportunity for what could be additional character development. It’s gotten to a point where even the smegma-slinging bitchboys on Reddit are complaining about the excessive sexy covers…. When PussySlayer384756 complains that there’s too much tittage being shown, that’s how you KNOW we’ve got a problem. Now, idk how the fan climate is in Japan but I can’t imagine they’re feeling much different over there either.

Also, her anatomy is… janky. Her tit is bigger than her head, her belly is too long, and she’s got like 4 spare ribs. Like, I’m by no means an art expert but it doesn’t take a chef to know the soup is shit, you know what I mean? I feel like page after page of Murata drawing obscene muscle men has made him rusty on what should be (somewhat) normal-looking people.

Darkshine learns what TRUE peak male performance looks like.

You’ve gotta wonder how Darkshine even got to the S-Class to begin with when he pussies out of nearly every single fight… except the one where the opponent was literal water. Everyone says that he just joined the association for additional validation, and I believe it… this boy is not cut out for actual hero-ing. 99% Of the time HE’S the one who needs a hero.

It kinda bothers me how useless he’s been post-Garou fight, especially when we spent like an entire chapter trying to console his ass. I get that’s part of his character and development… but it’s begun to slow things down. We get it. We don’t need to see him be insecure every time a new enemy pops up. One was enough. We would’ve gotten the same effect if he just sat out the entire time post-consolation, because everything that’s happened to him on the surface has been kinda redundant.

Here comes the boooyyy 🎶🎶

Nice callback. I’m glad Metal Bat is finally here. Bitch runs slow as fuck.

It’s nice to see him act on his own agency instead of orders from the hero association. He’s clearly much happier when helping out on his own accord, and has a ton of initiative too. The chapter he got with just he and King meeting up and slingshotting themselves to the fight was really a breath of fresh air from all of the fighting. It’s moments like these where ONE remembers that people like OPM for the characters, and not necessarily the pretty action sequences. I really like this duo. I like Metal Bat. I like it when they’re given time to be themselves and not just vessels for the next fight scene.

I know I said I wanted the heroes to die but Murata I’m begging you please don’t kill the child. You can kill Puri, though. I hate that fucker.

Child Emperor regularly visiting and eating with Bofoi even despite being his lab assistant would be a lot cuter if Bofoi wasn’t the human equivalent to a dog turd. I might’ve overstated that… seems like Bofoi is just using him as an errand boy. The clear lack of respect he has for CE is very indicative of his character and is not necessarily a bad thing plot-wise, but I would still like to beat him with a cane. Additionally, it’s clear that he’s not going to help the heroes here. At least, I don’t think so. His “fuck them kids” attitude seems to be a pretty big pillar in the building of his character and I doubt ONE would jeopardize that just because he’s written himself into a corner. Oh, well. We’ll see.

It’s very sweet that even when near death, CE still thinks of Zombieman. Aaaaghh it’s so GOOD when the characters actually LIKE each other. I know realistically not everyone is gonna be friends but man… it would be a lot cooler if we got more insight on their chemistry. Pleaz have more Metal Bat-and-King-esque chapters. I wanna see how everyone gets along.

Also, the concept of Puri just manifesting drilling powers and carving through solid rock with nothing else but pure strength and determination is so funny. A little convenient, sure, but I really don’t care because it’s actually done well. Their reunion scene is hilarious. More stuff like this pleaz….

I don’t even know what to say about Genos here. Dude, I know you made an oath to protect Tatsumaki or whatever, but there’s no shame in a good bail. You can’t even bail anymore because your damn legs are gone. See, this is what happens when you make promises. The secret to keeping your legs intact is doing the bare minimum. Hope this helps ❤️

He’s making a valiant effort but… I’m afraid he just ain’t gonna do much while roleplaying as a worm. Maybe he’ll make a chrysalis and come out as a butterfly. Wait, that’s caterpillars. Fuck. TATSUMAKI IS A GONER, BRO. WE NEED YOU TO BE THE DEUTERAGONIST!! IF YOU DIE WE LOSE 70% OF MERCH SALES NOOOOOOOO

Local man has a heart attack in front of thousands of little monsters and somehow saves the world, more at 5.

King I’m begging you please get that shit checked out that’s not NORMAL.

Yeah, I like this conclusion. Very tasteful cliffhanger. I mean we know King ain’t gonna do shit but SOMEHOW black sperm is gonna get punted like the little cumstain he is. Can’t wait to see the events that unfold next chapter… it seems like every scene that involves King turns out to be really funny and I’m super looking forward to black sperm seeing Jesus.

Also, a little off-topic but I just really like the way Murata inked his pants. Got a real comic book feel to it. I mean, he’s just really good at drawing clothes overall (save for Fubuki’s body-tight dress that is 100% not how women’s clothing works but I digress). Fucker understands fabric physics like I understand how to make a bomb ass chicken parm. I respect it.

In conclusion, lower everyone’s expectations of you and you might get to keep your arms and legs. This has been Life Lessons from Forrest. You now owe me 50$.

#one punch man #opm #zombieman #metal bat #child emperor #king #manga spoilers #I mean not really it’s been out for like two weeks now (I think)#Genos #Tatsumaki #puri puri prisoner #meta

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slugtranslation-hypmic · 3 years ago

Note

Hihihi this is may be a weird question but is your opinion on the main hypmic cast?

In brief:

(Spoiler alert: It was not brief. Stuck under a cut for length)

Ichirou: He's a good kid. I wasn’t super into him at first, as main protagonists very rarely hold my interest, but I appreciate him now for the struggles he goes through and the growth he’s experienced across the series.

Jirou: Jirou is also a good kid in his own way. I didn’t know what to do with him for a while, but now I feel like I understand him too. I don’t think he quite gets what makes Ichirou be as loved as he is, nor does he really understand what makes people love him for who he is. But that’s okay. He’ll get it someday.

Saburou: If you had tasked me as a fourteen year old to create an idealized anime boy sona, I would have come up with someone shockingly similar to Saburou. I’m fond of him. He can be a bit mean at times in a very fourteen way, but deep down, he’s a good kid too. All the BBs are good kids.

Samatoki: I just can’t not make fun of him. His posturing is so ridiculous to me that I am constantly filled with the urge to clown on him. Oh, you think you’re so tough? You think you’re a big tough guy? Well, I’m just a little bastard; what are you going to do about it? But underneath the posturing, I do feel sorry for him and admire his strengths a lot. He’s a good kid too under a very funny exterior.

Juuto: I’m enjoying learning more about him from the BB/MTC+ manga, but I’m a bit surprised at how much of a dick he is even deep down. Still, he has plenty of good qualities too, and I like him in a vague sort of way. I’d throw fruit at him over a fence but wouldn’t put any malice in it.

Riou: What a delightful individual he is. The BB/MTC chapter about him really resonated with me. For a character so outwardly obsessed with the military, Riou has an incredible understanding of the weight of his actions and such a deep appreciation for every living thing. There’s a lot of his depth to his simplicity, and the level of care he exhibits towards everyone is delightful to witness. An absolute favorite among the cast.

Ramuda: Self-recognition through the other (derogatory). In all seriousness, Ramuda’s story arc and actions are great narrative tools for me to examine some things about myself and grow to try to be a better, more considerate person towards myself and others. I want to see him achieve freedom and happiness.

Gentarou: I enjoy Gentarou quite a bit, although I think he gets overshadowed by the other members of Fling Posse at times due to my sheer passion for Dice and Ramuda. He’s my favorite character to translate at the moment, which is apparently heresy among Hypmic translators. More than the sheer fun of writing his witty banter, I find him to be a very intriguing individual, and I’m excited to learn more about him. I want his happiness too.

Dice: Oh, Dice... He’s a really good kid in a way that the BBs could never be. He’s deceptively good, and he does choose to hurt other people and himself in ways that characters like Ichirou don’t. But he also finds the goodness in the oddest places, like a person finding a coin in a cracked sidewalk, and that’s delightful. His narrative is one of the most compelling for me. What a champion of a character.

Jakurai: Wow, what a good foil for Ramuda. Let me bounce narratives off of you like a mirror. I’m slowly learning to find him compelling in his own right, however. This is also a self-recognition through the other (derogatory) scenario, but there’s more of an emphasis on the derogatory part.

Hifumi: A funny little individual bearing a lot of sadness and a whole lot more courage. Like most of Matenrou, I admire him a lot, but I think that Matenrou resonates much more strongly with other people than they do for me, so I prefer to sit back and let other people appreciate them. I think he’s very brave and very fun to read/write.

Doppo: The biggest fucking mood in existence. When you move past the stereotypical aspects, you end up with another character who has a lot of deep flaws but also an incredible amount of courage. I’m excited to see where they go with him, but again, I’ll sit back and let others take the first row here.

Kuukou: Having already drafted Saburou, if you came back to me at age eighteen and asked me to make an idealized anime boy sona, you would probably have ended up with a character astonishingly like Kuukou. He brings me sheer joy. Astonishingly, I feel like Kuukou has exhibited the least growth out of any of the cast, and yet I do not mind a bit. He is the closest to the perfect man I have ever met. I would drop everything to be this dude’s homie if he existed in real life. Just a champion individual.

Juushi: Juushi’s a good kid. I’m very fond of him and like writing him, but much like Matenrou, I feel like he does a lot more for other people than he does for me. Therefore, much of how I work with him is less, “How do I enjoy this character as a reader?” and more “How do I nurture the traits about him that other people love?”

Hitoya: Hitoya strikes me as a damn good person with a lot of heart who sometimes lets his anger drive him a bit too much. He’s also utterly ridiculous, of course, but I try to write him with as much strength as possible to be present behind his words. He honestly seems like a great person to know in real life, not simply as a fictional character, as well.

Sasara: I have to clown on him to assert dominance. Joking aside, I admire the depths of his character and the growth he’s shown over the series. He can be pretty callous at times and goes to odd lengths to get what he wants, but I think he’s now starting to realize how much his actions affect other people. For a while I was really in his camp as a hardcore Sasara lover (back before he was a main cast member - I love writing quirky minor characters), but now I approach him with the idea mentioned above, ie how I can present him for other people.

Roshou: Whenever he’s around the rest of Dotsu Hon, I think he’s kind of an idiot. I mean that in the best way possible. It’s very endearing. Yet moments when he’s on his own are where I think he best shines, and I would love to see more solo material for him. He’s an incredibly good support character, and I admire his passion for his students.

Rei: I really enjoy asshole antagonists, which is why I liked Ramuda for a while before the clone story came up behind me and struck me into the ground with its mighty fists. Now Rei fills this role. I would love to learn more about him and team up with the Buster Bros to pelt him with rotten eggs in a fun bonding activity. I’m sure there is some strong backstory that will absolve him of at least some of his shittiness, but until now, I’m still not excusing his whole abandoning his children thing, not to mention the human trafficking thing he pulled with Ramuda.

Otome: I hate translating her, if only because she and Rei frequently talk about things in extremely vague terms that I have no context for. It’s hard to make her sound idiomatic in English while also not shooting myself in the foot by accidentally filling in the wrong information. But with that aside, she’s okay. I like her, I guess. Her motivations are pretty interesting.

Ichijiku: Ichijiku was written for people who are sexually attracted to women, and I’m not at all, so I 100% approach her in terms of her pull on other people. She’s fun on her own, though, and I’m impressed at her ability to walk in high heels. Her complete disrespect for everyone but Otome brings me no end of entertainment in reading and writing.

Nemu: YOU. Maybe this is some stupid toxic masculinity thing, but I always feel embarrassed speaking affectionately about male characters but not at all about female characters. Therefore Nemu gets all of my loveposting. She’s a wonderful girl! She has such a strong spirit, and I’m completely overjoyed that she’s making her own decisions and becoming her own character defined on her own terms. I want to watch her grow up big and strong. Fuck yes, baby girl! Fuck it up! I’m very proud of her.

#not a translation #asks #hypmic asks

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youn9racha · 3 years ago

Text

I Know (Part I)

Pairing: Changbin x fem!reader

Genre: suggestive

Word count: 1.9k

Warning: slight adult content, swearing, suggestive actions, elements of stalker behavior

Extra notes: characters mentioned are all above the age 21 years, a lot of hatred towards the male figure lol. Also this is my first time writing on tumblr, so please bare with me, it may not be the best, but I still hope you enjoy it :)

And baby, I know, I know whatever city you’re in, you’re still the boy that I’d pick…

part ii is up !!!

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This is no way representative of the way Stray Kids act. They’re nothing but references of character, and in no shape or form is this how they act. And I am in no way romanticizing or glamorizing any toxic behavior exhibited, they’re just stories that is meant to be read. Readers discretion is advised

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Men…

Truly the scums of the Earth, who do no good for no one, and are an absolute menace to society. But oh, do I enjoy the looks of their faces at times. The way they would look at me with full hope and infatuation, with full beliefs that I would step down and give them all they want from me.

Hmph. How cute… and pathetic. How pathetic to assume and lower my standards for them. They all are the same. All but one however.

All that men hating… and yet, only one I’d be willing to go down to his level.

Yes, its him… He whom a lot would have not sought to be with, not many would expect a bombshell like myself would be with. But I do not see that in him, not an ounce of what many insecure individuals would see. I see something striking that not many could see, an underrated dignified beauty that anyone could wish to admire. A fanciable and irresistible personality and face.

He was a man.. but a pleasant one.

It all started when I moved in into a new flat for myself. I previously left the old complex due to the cramped environment I had that left me feeling uneasy and stressed, as well as it wasn’t even my apartment, it was for my partner, well, ex-partner. It was simply wasn’t working out, due to our seeming never ending conflicts. But enough of the past, let us move on..

I found this flat that is comfortable and the rent pays well, its only downside is that my room’s window is faced to the next door’s flat, however it’s not a big detriment or big turn off for me so it was fine by me, and also it was prone to have random, yet rare, blackout, but then again what neighborhood doesn’t have that. Anyhow, I was set to take the complex, but before I did, I have noticed something about the neighbor’s window next to me. It was a man. A really good looking one too. Giving his side profile, he was laying on his bed, his black hair covered head bopping with earphones placed in ears, laptop placed in his revealing shorts adorned lap. My eyes began started to stare into his arms then onto his naked well built chest, which indicates that he likes to keep up with his health, as his ring adorned hands was tapping away in his keyboard. I quickly looked away when I saw him repositioned his laptop, and walked out of the soon-to-be my room.

Great… I’ve entered Hell.

But I didn’t let it affect my decisions and got the apartment nonetheless, here I am now, weeks after the incident, sitting in my car, outside of the building, still thinking about the man in his laptop. Has he noticed that I was staring at him? Does he know that there’s gonna be someone living next to him? I hope not. And if he has, I must apologize to him. But before that, let me unload my car. I have gradually put my stuff into the complex as the days go by, it seems dragging, but it felt like the time went by fast, so I’m glad I have done that. However, today was different, as I took stuff more than I usually did, as I desperately do not want to go back to my ex. Typically, I never had assistance, as usually my best friend would join in and help out, but at a time I needed them the most, they had to be really sick. They still were willing to help, but I insisted that they shouldn’t and should rest.

After thinking, I sighed and got out my car, ready to fight the battle that is putting my stuff into my complex. I opened the trunk, eyes meeting my stuff, and I begin to groan. ‘Dammit, (y/n), why do you have that many stuff?!’ I thought to myself. I really should’ve had at least one more visit to my ex, but alas I picked to just take all all together in one day. I picked up a box until..

“Need any help?” I heard someone behind me asking me. I turned around and looked at the source. ‘God damn, is it just me, or does this town just bring out more attractive people?’ I thought to myself, as I see a man that looked like he could be at a museum. He had a sandy brown curly hair, slightly tanned skin, really plump and a crazy jawline. He donned a tank top that barely covered his side torso, and basket ball shorts that complimented his really nice, thick… thighs… yeah… Needless to say he was really attractive.

It seems that I was ogling him, rather than responding, as he shyly smiled and waved his hand in front of my face, “hello,” he softly said as I shook my head and looked back at his face apologetically.

“I am so sorry, I am just really tired, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” I cringed at my pathetic way of justifying of me literally internally lusting over him. I really am turning into someone I dread to be. How can I forgive myself?

“That’s okay, I know how moving can get tiring, and I sense that you’re alone, so please let me and my friend help you out.” He said, sympathetically smiling a sweet smile, already grabbing a box out of my hand. God, if this man has a partner, then they’re the luckiest person ever, and if he’s single, I’ll gladly hand him a ring. What am I saying? (y/n), what the hell has gotten into you?!

“I’m Christopher, but you can call me Chris or Chan, whichever you prefer is fine, what’s your name?” The generous man’s voice interrupted my inner battle and I found myself looking at him again. “(y/n)” I smiled at him, which he nodded back.

“Nice to meet you,” Chan said, looking back and see that his friend showed up, meanwhile, I went back to my trunk and got out more stuff from my car “oh, there he is!” Chan enthusiastically announced.

“(y/n), meet my friend and roommate, Changbin.” Chris said, while I got out the box and looked at the other man, my face shifted from contentment to horrific.

Its the man with the laptop.

“Hello? Chan, are you sure she’s okay?” Changbin looked at Chris with worry. “Yeah, she’s just tired, just nudge her.”

It’s like Chris knew me too well, despite meeting for less than 10 minutes, as Chris slightly pushed me with the box, not enough to hurt me, but enough to put me out of a trance.

“huh? I did it again, did I?” I looked at Chan, worryingly, which he nodded. I looked back at Changbin and the pathetic act was brought up again.

“I am so sorry, I don’t know what has gotten into me.” I apologized once again, which Changbin only smirked. “Don’t worry about it,” He said, carrying a box. Something about that smirk and tone seems off. Not off in a menacing way, but off in a… coy way. Maybe not the best term to use, maybe I am just over analyzing, but I am for sure either winning the lottery tonight, or convinced that the sun will rise from the west tomorrow, since I have two very attractive men helping out, one of which is someone whom I may have an odd fascination for a while now.

The two have been nothing but a delight to interact with, their help with the stuff had done me even more than just a solid. However, I still in a way feel a bit unsettled by Changbin. It wasn’t that he was a creep, or did anything to make me uncomfortable, its just this feeling of guilt I carry with me. Meanwhile, I didn’t attempt anything, and I just simply just admired him from afar, it still felt wrong that I was just looking at him while he was barely wearing anything, let alone while not him paying attention. Despite this, it seems that he doesn’t know that I did what I did, which is why I chose to confront him about it when the time is right, which is probably when we start getting even more comfortable. I have exchanged numbers with both men, even though I could probably just go out my window and yell out their names, but I’d rather not disturb the peace.

Two good looking men are now my neighbors… Who would have thought? Whichever entity that is in existence have decided to play with me, because to them, my humiliation would be their laughing stock, because they definitely would have seen what is to become of me.

Its been a week in since I moved, and interacted with the two Chans, and I am glad that a curtain was installed onto my room, just so I wouldn’t carry even more guilt than I already do. But the thing is, I would lie that I still haven’t thought of Changbin. While I would have thought that Chris fitting into more of my ideal type, Changbin however held a mysterious power that Chan didn’t.

Ever since the time I first laid eyes on Changbin, he has never left my mind. He has started to creep up in my fantasies and dreams in every way shape of form. I couldn’t stop thinking of how his arms would look around my waist, how his lips would feel in my skin, or how his hands would wander around, exploring places that many men often fail to find to make me feel good, or how his voice would be like when talking as he puts his mouth by my ear— God, this is getting out of hand, I would think.

What if he had a girlfriend? What if he wasn’t attracted to women in general? What if he finds you a creep?

So many more endless questions would come in to ruin me, but its not like i have a choice, he just happened to settle into my dreams and thoughts, and went with it.

I decided to take a shower to try and distract myself from these thoughts, which didn’t help at all, as the hot water cascading my skin did nothing but accelerated my lustful thoughts. I decided to get out of the shower, as it didn’t help my case.

Damn you, Changbin.

I sighed, put on some underwear and a robe while having a towel wrapped around my hair. I got out of the bathroom and back to my room. It was dark out, and in my room, the only light came out of it were my night lamp, which barely lit up the whole room. I checked the window, making sure Changbin wasn’t there, or at least not facing the window, only to see his window being covered with curtains.

Great timing, could’ve used that when I first saw you, dipshit.

But nonetheless, I was really glad at least he wasn’t visible. I laid back on my bed, and decided to look through social media, as anyone should. While in the middle of a instagram scroll, I see a caller popping through at the top of the screen…

It was Changbin.

#stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fanfic #changbin #changbin scenarios #changbin fanfic #changbin smut #stray kids smut #skz fanfic #skz scenarios

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unhealthyfanobsession · 3 years ago

Note

Well, after writing that piece that offered up the tinniest bit of closure around the shit with Nesta/Cassian/Mor in ACOWAR (barely), I'm amped up on that, so please, rant away on that if you haven't yet. 👀 Or, hey, if you have an idea on why Mor would care so much about Nessian to the point she basically bullies/abuses Nesta, I'd be curious, because I can't figure that out...

Hehe I just read Better Than Revenge so I am ready to SHRED MOR!!! Something I’ve never said is I actually think Mor is the root of Nesta and Cassian’s post ACOWAR problems. Like a year and a half ago I wrote Renegade Knights (multi chapter post-ACOFAS where Cassian takes Nesta to the Day Court and she learns what her powers are instead of walking up stairs) and while my writing style has changed a LOT since then and I cringe at some of it and it is not exactly a nuanced story, there’s a part where Nesta yells at Cassian for leaving her behind after the war. She basically says that she was left standing next to the ashes of her father as Rhys came for Feyre and Lucien eventually came (not necessarily FOR Elain but like… for Elain)

And where was Cassian? LIMPING OFF THE BATTLE FIELD WITH MOR AND AZ! Mor hating Nesta was unnecessary and a complete wedge in Nessian’s relationship. It was one of the reasons Nesta was so insecure about Cassian’s affections AND Cassian straight up says in Wings and Embers that he wouldn’t want to tell Mor about Nesta.

There was no way Nesta would do or say ANYTHING unless she was 100% certain of Cassian’s feelings. Even after he spends every second of his time on her and is fucking her daily Nesta is still like damn when he gonna get tired of me?

Mor KNEW they were mates with her little truth powers from ACOMAF and then she decided Nesta didn’t deserve Cassian and she did EVERYTHING in her power to keep them apart. Warned Nesta away from Cassian, interrupted them, and as we see in ACOSF she continues to denigrate Nesta to Cassian even though he actively tells her SEVERAL TIMES to stop.

To be clear, Cassian was being a coward and he has his own weird ass shit going on with Mor and the whole “buffer” thing, but Mor knows exactly what she is doing and I would actually argue she is worse than Rhys. There. I said it. I hate a lot of the things Rhys does but his redeeming quality is always that he is doing it for a reason that he believes in. Rhys says he hates Nesta but is still like well Cassian and Feyre love her so something has to be done. And his plan sucks but at least there’s a rationale behind it.

To quote a male character I also hate who I think is literally Rhysand in many ways, one Damon Salvatore: “I do bad things for a purpose, you do them to be a dick.”

Mor is just a spoiled brat tbh. She doesn’t even have a reason to hate Nesta. She didn’t like your dress 3 books ago can we please MOVE ON!!!

#nessian #nesta archeron #anti mor #anti morrigan #acosf #cassian

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jimlingss · 4 years ago

Note

It's B from @bang-tan-bitches and I would like to request a yandere fic. It can be BTS OT7 x reader or BTS member of your choice x reader. Similar to your amazing isekai story i would like something similar(a long one shot or a multi-chapter, your choice). Whether YN transmigrates to a game or a novel (not as a villain but maybe as a cannon fodder side character that has little importance to the story and just wants to lay low) but YN captures the attention of the love interest(s) and shit starts getting weird, intense, uncomfortable. Maybe it causes the supposed female lead to turn into the villain, maybe it causes the love interest(s) to turn into the villain(s). Maybe YN realizes that something is wrong with the story/game but can't figure it out. Idk. Time period doesn't matter. Modern. Ancient. Fairytale. Fantasy. Whatever.

If you can do this great! If you can't or don't want to, that's okay too. You're an amazing writer with so much talent and I'm really appreciative of all your work. Thank you for taking requests from your fans, I'm sure you've received a lot.

Take care! 😘💜💜💜

at the start of the pandemic, I was getting back into manga and manhwa and then after a few months, I dawdled off but recently, I’ve been getting back into it again haha so this request came at a pretty good time. Hopefully you won’t mind that I’ve taken some creative liberties with this request lol I think it’s more fun if I keep readers on their toes, including the requester.

On another note, I really shouldn’t be writing all my isekai’s with Taehyung as the main lead but he’s just so fitting asdfghjkl

↳ The Fox Bride

2.6k || 99% Light Fluff, 1% Angst || Kim Taehyung || Isekai!AU, Slight Yandere!AU, Nine-Tailed Fox!Taehyung

You are a tutorial character.

But you weren’t always. You still remember being a career woman in the twenty-first century, struggling with overtime and paying bills while trying to keep yourself fed. The success of that ranged from month to month. But more importantly, you still remember that night too.

It was rainy. Your car blew a flat tire. You pulled to the side of the highway and got out.

The last thing that registered was the deafening honk of the semi-truck.

Then you felt yourself flying upwards.

But when you landed, instead of colliding with the concrete and dying upon impact, you fell back onto your ass in the middle of a market on a dirt road. Transported back a thousand years ago.

Your purpose was fulfilled in the next two minutes.

“Are you alright?”

The male protagonist had stretched out his hand and helped you up. The hero. The main character. It was obvious with his bright red hair, shining eyes and bronze armour. He was so starkly different from the rest who were gray and drab, including you who was suddenly in a brown shapeless dress. He was practically a neon billboard in the middle of a graveyard.

“Are you Y/N?”

You looked at him, befuddled that he knew your name. But before you could even respond or provide a line of dialogue, he said, “This is a delivery from Baker Jeon. He gives you his thanks.”

The protagonists handed you a loaf of bread. Undoubtedly his first ever quest.

You looked down, not sure what to do with it.

“Do you know where the blacksmith is?”

You had absolutely no clue. But there was the deafening noise of hammering steel literally ten steps away. You would have to be blind not to see the gruff man shaping a sword at an anvil right on the road and deaf not to hear it. As if that wasn’t enough, the literal sign of the shop read: ‘the blacksmith’.

So you pointed.

“Thanks.” And he trudged off.

You were utterly confused until a background character who said they knew you waved you over. You shared your bread with her, brushed aside when she asked you what was wrong, and you followed her as she walked up to your supposed cottage.

All the while, you saw yourself in the background of the hero’s main quest as he ran through the town.

And that was that.

It wasn’t so hard to figure out where you were or what the hell this was when you put your mind to it. Without much of a job or a family, and no technology but the candle that you had to conserve when night fell, there was ample time.

So you spent it thinking and you eventually solved the mystery.

You were in Beast Boys Harem: A Forbidden Embrace. AKA. a dumb yaoi otome game app that you downloaded on your phone when you were sixteen and bored. You remember because you were too cheap to buy the routes, so you played the tutorial, prologue and read the summaries of the routes online. Now you regret that you didn’t just fork over the goddamn five dollars.

Even more than that, you regret that you even downloaded the game in the first place.

But at least you’re just a tutorial character. You’re free from the storyline and the plot—

That’s what you thought.

Turns out living a thousand years in the past in a fantasy realm as a woman didn’t bode well. It was probably no different from how it would’ve been like in the medieval ages. You had no trade skills. No one was willing to accept you as an apprentice when you were a woman. You found that you were essentially illiterate with a reading level of a preschooler, no one was willing to teach you, and you had no power or wealth when you were without a father or a husband.

And you’re certain what the landlord and tax-collectors are doing is illegal.

But in this world, in this unjust realm, there is no such thing as the law.

“We know you’re in there!”

You jolt from the heavy pounding on the frail wooden door.

“It’s time to pay up!”

Your hands tremble as you set the candle down that’s still billowing of smoke, the flame smothered out mere seconds ago. As much as you want to hide and pull the blanket over your head, you know that door won’t last. They’ll find you if you’re trapped in here.

“If you can’t, spread those legs of yours!” a low voice spits and there’s chortling from the men.

Someone adds, “Sell your body already!”

“Open up! Damn whore!”

Without a single possession but the white nightgown clad on your body, you open the latch of the back window. You cringe at the squeak, trying to keep your movements quiet before the door gives way.

You hoist yourself up onto the window ledge. The door bends with the strength of multiple clenched fists against it. Your feet touch the soft grass outside your cottage. The men shout.

And the door finally slams against the wall, hinges broken.

But by then, you’ve slipped into the shadows.

“Where is she?!”

The blanket is ripped off the bed, curtains are whipped back, every drawer dumped onto the ground and cupboards yanked open. The floor shakes with the weight of their boots and you press your palm to your mouth to silence your panting breaths, slowly stepping away.

“That damn whore slipped through us—!”

But as your shitty luck would have it, a sudden crack has the whole world coming to a standstill.

Shit. You look down at your feet, realizing that the snapping noise came from you stepping on a twig. And it’s exposed your hiding place.

“There she is!” — “Out the back window!”

You grab fistfuls of your dress and bolt.

“Get her!”

With your cottage on the edge of town, there’s nowhere to run but through the dense woods. It’s shrouded in the darkness, no doubt filled with wild beasts creeping through the thicket. The rustling canopy of the trees doesn’t allow the dim, waning moonlight to illuminate your path.

So you’re left blind. Struggling up the high incline of the forest, feet slipping on dirt and mud. But you keep sprinting with all your might, even when the pointed, coiling branches scrape at your calves until blood sheds and the hem of your dress tears in the underbrush.

“Run, little rabbit!” one of them mocks, “Run!”

The four men continue to give chase, gripping onto their roaring torches, shrieking and howling after you. One of them is manically laughing as if your efforts to flee only adds to the thrill. Their greased hands reach out to snatch you, but the tips of their fingers graze the ends of your hair.

Your teeth are sunk into the bottom of your lip, sobs breaking through your aching chest. Your lungs burn, dying for a break or moment of relief. But you don’t relent and luckily, you manage to build distance between you and the men. Only, that luck comes crashing down by a fucking hole.

A hole in the forest floor that you don’t see. That has your footing all wrong. That makes you scream and fall.

You twist your ankle in a direction it’s definitely not supposed to be in and cry from pain.

A second later, you force yourself to get up and keep running with tears flooding your eyes and dripping down your cheeks. But it’s more like limping than running, akin to hobbling on one leg and every movement has pain shooting from your swelling ankle.

The effort becomes futile. They surround you within minutes.

“All finished?” The tax-collector’s head cocks with a spreading grin. “You’re not going to keep running?”

Why couldn’t you just fucking die the first time?! Even if it was an awful death where you didn’t have time to prepare yourself or say goodbye to anyone, at least it would’ve been the end. At least you wouldn’t have to suffer.

But there’s no time to grieve. Or hate the new life you’ve been given. This is it. You have to keep going. You have to survive. By any means. You’re about to pick up a branch and uselessly wave it around at them, shout at them to stand back. Anything that you could do to save yourself—

“Who dares come onto my mountain?!”

There’s a deep timbre behind you. A husky voice that quivers the very core of the forest.

As if the wind has swept through, the trees and thicket rustle and it goes silent.

The men fall back onto their asses, some torches clattering to the ground. Their eyes have grown double in size, nearly falling from their sockets and their jaws have dropped to the dirt.

“I-It’s the nine-tailed fox!”

The man scrambles back.

“Demon!”

Another barely manages to get onto his feet. He turns around and lurches away while shrieking.

They all run. Scattering away as frantically as cockroaches when the light is flickered on.

From your spot on the ground, you turn around with wide eyes.

Amber irises meet your gawking and they practically glow in the darkness of the forest. He is dressed in a loose, white robe that’s draped over his frame, open to the middle of his chest. And over his honey hair, on the top of his head, his pointed golden ears twitch. By the torch fire still yet to die out, he is illuminated and his shadow is casted on the ground. The blazing flame warms his cold, sharp features.

He is the most beautiful person you’ve ever seen. In both worlds you’ve lived in.

And you know who he is.

Taehyung. One of the love interests of the hero. A seductive, sly creature that eventually coaxes the hero into selling him his soul to grant one of his wishes. But Taehyung grows to become an obsessed character that wants to do nothing but monopolize and possess the hero for himself.

That same Taehyung approaches you with his lip curled as you teeter to your feet.

“Run away, girl.” He leans close. “Before I eat you.”

“Stop!”

On sheer instinct and adrenaline, you push him back. Your palm shoves against his firm chest.

Taehyung stumbles back with his eyes becoming rounded. He looks down to where you had made contact against his body. “Did...you just touch me?”

“What?”

Taehyung’s head darts upwards and he captures your wrist in his hand, squeezing tightly. He tugs you in and on your swollen ankle, you stumble into him. Bodies flush against one another. Your face pressed to his warm chest. His arm coming around your waist to break your fall.

He is aghast.

“You’re not from this world.” Taehyung’s yellow eyes swirl as they gaze into you. “Where did you come from?”

…

It’s been three days.

“Wed me,” he begs for the seventy sixth time.

You don’t know why you’re keeping a count.

“No.”

You’re hugging your knees for warmth. The rice paper-paneled doors are slid open and letting in the chilly air. He doesn’t seem to be affected by the cold, but you don’t look at him for long.

You turn into the corner of his home while sitting on the tatami floors as if you’re putting yourself into time out. But you’d like to say it’s your privacy corner. It’s as private as this abode, which was basically one room, could get.

Taehyung sighs in frustration, placing his hand on his forehead. His teeth grit. “You’re only making this harder for yourself.” Your silence angers him more. “You can never leave.”

You turn over your shoulder to glare. “Even if I married you, you’d never let me leave anyway.”

Taehyung narrows his eyes on you and then smirks. “You’re right. Wed or unwed, I won’t let you out of my sight. You should feel grateful, girl. You’re the best human I’ve ever treated.”

You quietly scoff.

Maybe you should feel scared. Maybe you should tread more lightly. After all, he’s not a character to be trifled with.

But you know he needs you. That alone gives you power.

As a beast, Taehyung’s been trapped on this mountain by priests for centuries. The only way he can be free is by feeding off of sexual energy and breaking the barrier. But of course, they also cursed him to be unable to touch any woman in this universe.

You aren’t from this universe.

You jolt when you realize that while you were lost in thought, Taehyung’s crawled closer. He has a foxy smile, amber eyes searching your expression. “Maybe….maybe I’ll grant you a bit of freedom if you would just give into the temptation and let me have a taste of you.”

As cold as he looks, he is beautiful. He is mischievous when he smirks and sly when he speaks. You are utterly spellbound as you look into his irises. And the temptation he speaks of flickers in the warmth of your belly.

But you turn away.

“I already said we only do that kind of thing after marriage. And I will only marry someone I love.”

Taehyung draws back with an unamused scoff. “What a prudish world you’re from.”

He wanted you the moment you were brought to this house. With the intensity of his stare and your captivated state, you had let him pin you to his floor and you liked it. But then clarity came and you blurted that such an act only happens after marriage. A lie just to buy time.

You didn’t expect for the hero to arrive at Taehyung’s house the next day. With his red hair and bronze armour, he had gotten lost in the forest and knocked on the door. Before you could limp over and answer it, Taehyung jumped off the roof and confronted him.

The guy was thrown off the mountain within five minutes.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. They were supposed to have a steamy rendezvous. Taehyung was supposed to get the sexual energy from him!

The story was going off the rails. And you’re not sure what you’re even buying time for anymore.

The both of you know it’s only a matter of time before you break and succumb to his mesmerizing seduction.

Taehyung is cruel, ruthless, obsessive.

But what’s the most bewitching thing about him is the jarring contrast of when he’s clumsy and nurturing. It’s what he regards as his own weakness. What he hides from others. But you felt your heart waver two nights ago when you were shaken awake in the middle of twilight. When you peeked open your eye to see him gingerly wrapping your swollen ankle with bandages.

He looked beautiful in the pale moonlight, ears, tails, sharp features softened—

“Ow!” You wince as he squeezes your ankle, right on your injury.

“You think too much in your head,” he says and looks at you. “What’s wrong?”

“It hurts.”

A sadistic smile tugs on Taehyung’s lips. He lets go, but only to lift your chin with his fingers. His plush lips are inches away, his breath warm on your skin and he gazes deep into you. “I won’t let you return to your world. I won’t let you run away. I won’t let anyone harm you.”

“You’re mine now.” Taehyung swears, “You’ll fall in love with me eventually.”

You gulp and he smirks.

The two of you know it’s only a matter of time.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #taehyung fanfic #taehyung scenario #taehyung fluff #bts fluff #taehyung reader insert #taehyung x reader #taehyung fanfiction #LET'S GOOOO

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momoliee · 3 years ago

Text

It’s probably too early for The Meta No One Asked For That I’m Gonna Write Anyway about XQC, alas…here we go

Dr. Xie Qingcheng, 32, male, straight (so far), 180 cm with only one current family member.

Xqc is introduced as a cold, aloof and apathetic retired doctor who has no passions, cares about nothing except for his sister, and unless he’s angry, you can barely get an emotional response out of him.

Through meatbun’s character notes on how he has no favorite food, no favorite color or animal, no personal preferences outside what’s most practical and how he’s very very responsible and rules abiding and honest and sober and serious, and through he yu’s POV that continuously paints him as this heartless cold blooded person, I dare say we were…deceived by this so far shades of gray picture we had of him.

Xqc was born into a finically stable middle class family consisting of two cops for parents and a younger sister that came into the world 8 years after him. When he turned 13, and his sister was only 5 at that time, his parents were fired from their job due to a case they shouldn’t have been investigating going wrong, and they had to move to a rural area. Not long after that, he witnessed both his parents’ deaths and saw their corpses with his own eyes, the site was bloody and there’s no way it didn’t traumatize a pre-teen like him. He then was tasked with taking care of his sister, becoming a doctor despite not wanting to, owing others favors and spending all his money on smth that’s yet to be revealed instead of enjoying it. He got married, not to a woman he loves but to someone whom he thought of as “suitable and appropriate”, got cheated on and went through a divorce before losing full interest in the marriage life. He was finally able to retire (we don’t know why yet) and live a quiet, normal, boring life.

I believe xqc loved his parents, I believe he loved them so much cause in chapter 20, he mentions how he thought he wouldnt be able to live past the grief, he wouldn’t be able to go on or move forward, how the grief completely overtook him. He also mentions how he used to play with knots and handcuffs when he was a child, which shows how close he was to them. So for a child who had a good stable life with two loving parents to suddenly fall from a class to a class, suddenly lose both parents and see their corpses with his own eyes, that must’ve fucked him up big time. I’m talking “when can I fully register all of this” kind of fucked up. But he didn’t have time to fully absorb all of this, didnt have the time to sit down and cry, he had a sister, she was only 5, where will they get the money from? What were they gonna do? How was he going to continue school while caring for her? He didn’t have the time to sit down and grief, to sit down and adjust. For a child who had a normal life and didn’t have to worry much about the money like every other middle class kid, he was suddenly burdened with poverty AND loss, and duty and responsibility. Good bye to the days of playing with handcuffs and knots huh?

You ask me, why does xqc not have a favorite food? I answer you, because many many nights, he didn’t know what to feed his sister, much less himself. Cause I bet that many nights, he would have to give up his portion for Xie Xue, to make sure a kid like her is full. Cause he couldn’t afford to be picky, couldn’t afford to choose; whatever was edible will be eaten, taste and flavor be damned. He had to start working from a young age, balance school, babysitting and working all at once. The last friend he made (I think) was that Chen Man guy whose parents were friends with his parents, back when they were alive and life was good. He didn’t have time to make friends, or go out, or have a favorite color or visit the zoo and decide on a favorite animal. No, he had to study, and study hard to become more financially stable and support Xie Xue, he had to raise his baby sister and protect her, he had to work or else how will he put food on their table? Yet he never lost his soft kind heart, cause when his sister asked for a laptop, he bought her one just so that she wouldn’t feel less than any of the other children.

Xqc had to SURVIVE, he had to make do with what he had and what he didn’t have. He didn’t have time to sit down and cry or process his trauma, didn’t even have time to think of adolescent love or his youthful days or do what kids his age did. And all of that carried forward into his adult life. He pushed his emotions back so hard and had his practical, business like mind take care of everything in order to make it through the days. He started to believe that passionate emotions such as love and hate and lust and desire were all a waste of time, a distraction from his duties, smth that will rock the delicate balance he created with his everyday busy schedule. Emotions will stunt you, emotions will delay you, crying and not going to work today means no food to feed his hungry sister with. That’s when he started thinking, strong emotions are a DISEASE, they will take up your time, cloud your judgement, have you make reckless decisions that you’ll regret later. And he couldn’t afford any of that right? Strong emotions are for the weak, they put you in crutches and disable you from moving forward. Wasnt that what he told his ex wife? If he had submitted himself to his grief back then, where would his sister be? Where would he be? How could they have grown up to be healthy and successful adults?

So this man taught himself practicality and duty and priorities. He stopped thinking about himself, about what he wants and what he feels, and instead started making sure that those around him are happy and content and safe and well taken care of. He no longer had desires or passions, he only had rules and regulations. If a person lost their sense of taste, would they still want chocolates and burgers? Would they still have cravings and foods they’d rather swallow medicine than eat? No. If so, how will they decide on what to eat every day? They’ll simply start following a “perfect nutritional plan” and “balanced diet”. They’d eat what they have to eat, when they have to eat, and in the exact portion they need. To them eating would be another chore they have to do every day to keep their bodies going. Similarly, with xqc, graduating, working, marrying, taking care of his sister and auntie, these all became “tasks” and “chores” that he had to abide by and follow. They became the dietary plan for his life till he dies, the outline he shall follow, the textbook rules he will carry out, no need to think of what he “wants” or “desires”, what will make him “happy” or bring him “joy”. He no longer listened to his emotions when making decisions. Even when marrying his ex wife, he married her cause she was “a suitable match”, not for her looks or personality or anything. Feelings are life’s taste buds, and once you remove them, everything becomes tasteless and mundane, and practicality/logic takes over. He stopped knowing what it felt like to choose based on your preferences, cause he stopped having the luxury of choice ever since that night when he was 13, and he no longer was able to re-teach himself the meaning of free will and choice.

So when he yu, in chapter 20, asked him how he would’ve acted if Xie Xue had died, and he said, “I would’ve continued living as I am today till my last breath,” he wasn’t being “cold” or “heartless” or “indifferent” as he yu likes to say. He was being practical and methodical and thinking with a logical approach, rather than an emotional one, just the way he taught himself to throughout all these years. His almost 2 decades of pure survival mode and severely repressed feelings spoke in the form of autopilot. “I would do what I have to do, what I’ve always done every day of my life so far cause what choice do I have?” Is what he meant to say.

But I believe that he’s a soft hearted, kind and loving person. He never says no his sister, never says no to his auntie, helped that homeless man as best as he could, taught he yu that he was normal and that he wasn’t a monster, believed in treating his patients with words instead of medicine prescriptions, believed that the mentally ill deserve to live normally instead of being locked up. I believe that underneath all the shit he has buried, there’s a lot of passion and love that’s been kept dormant for 19 years.

In conclusion, idk where meatbun is gonna take his character but I genuinely hope he gets to heal, and start having more color and flavor in his life. Start allowing himself to live, not just survive.

#case file compendium #xie qingcheng #bing an ben #meatbun doesn’t eat meat #cfc #bab #meatbun

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miraculouscontent · 3 years ago

Text

Didn’t Need Burrow (August 7th-September 13th)

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow: Ladybug and Chat Noir will be asked to participate in judging a competition that Marinette and Adrien are both a part of. Ladybug will want to vote for herself as Marinette, but Tikki will tell her(once detransformed and while she is snacking) that she can’t because then people will know that Marinette is Ladybug. Chat Noir, meanwhile, will freely vote for Adrien with no repercussions or drawbacks, and Adrien will end up winning the competition. Marinette will admit that she was “so silly” to even think of voting for herself, especially since “Adrien needs the award more so that I do�� despite being rich, white, male, and “perfect”(oh, I’m sorry, “purrfect”!), since all of Marinette’s legitimate problems of anxiety, dyspraxia, and the like get thrown out the window because the writers’ perfect sunshine boy incel stand-in has a “saaad home life!”, and Marinette needs to give him pity and put his feelings above his rather than wish for her own success. Cuz Girl Power.

tbh, given the leaks script, I’d reverse that and saying that Adrien voted for LadyNoir as Couple of the Year.

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow: Marinette and Adrien will reveal their identities, and Marinette actually WILL be disappointed that the boy who goofed off in fights and didn’t take no for an answer is none other than her perfect modeling celebrity crush. However, rather than this being a point towards Adrien needing to learn how to improve himself and accept Marinette’s feelings, this scene is used to make HER look bad(because of course it is) and she is blamed for expecting Adrien to be perfect(despite being encouraged and told to see him as such), and told that she should be happy that Chat was hitting on her even when she didn’t like it or it got in the way of battle plans, likely by Alya, because it was her true love under the mask all along. Eventually she “learns her lesson”(ick) and comes to accept Adrichat for who he is, warts and all. Bonus if she has a flashback to when Chat said “if you saw me without my mask you wouldn’t be able to resist me” as she realizes that he was right.

Didn’t Need Burrow? More like “Didn’t Need to Think About This”

i hate it

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Luka will be Chat Blanc "2.0"

But Luka doesn’t have Chat-level favoritism going so Bunnyx won’t be there to defend him from consequences.

Anonymous asked:

We will have Ladybug!Alya in Marinette's akumatization episode. Obviously everyone would think that she is "better" than "old" Ladybug. (Bonus points if Ladybug!Alya don't "alienate" Chat Noir, mostly by catering to his whims)

Oh, of course! No one will miss the “old” Ladybug.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Bob Roth is akumatized into Rip Off, a supervillain with power to copy anything he sees (including powers of heroes)

Okay but that’s genius.

(I know we already had it in “Miraculer” but I like this more.)

Anonymous asked:

DNB: Now that Luka knows their identities, he will push the Love Square in a romantic manner. Stans would be totally fine with this because it doesn't interfere with their endgame :)

Well, obviously!

I’m just waiting for them to basically say that the secret identities don’t matter and, because they like one side, also means they like the other side.

Because forget nuance, am I right?

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: In the end, (after Adrienette gets together) Narrator reveals himself (herself?) as Alya with words "that's how I helped my bestie [Marinette] get a relationship with love of her life [Adrien]" or something similar.

wait, Alya, are you filming a Ladybug biography

why did you include all the humilation

why

That explains her making herself look good though.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Luka will finally reveal that he knows Heroes' secret identities... to Alya, who obviously decide to hide from Marinette that Luka knows her identity (Bonus Points if reason provided by Alya why she is doing this is utterly ridiculous)

AAAAAAAAAAAA

I guess Luka would have to realize that Alya knows. Bonus if he tells her Chat’s identity too so love square shipping can commence.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: "Knitting Fairy" will be name of Marinette's akumatized form.

Can you say “reused design”? I certainly can, we’re used to it.

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow:

Luka keeping his knowledge about the identities (esp. Ladybug’s) will somehow blow up in a way for the writers to paint him in a bad light, probably ending with Marinette not trusting him. (As well as no hint of irony that Adrien did the same thing for completely selfish reasons in Chat Blanc).

MiraculousMX: Platonic soulmates!

us: Source??

Anonymous asked:

DNB: If LS gets reversed, Adrien complains about Marinette having other friends. Not just being friends with Luka or any other guys, but friends PERIOD, showing the same jealousy/desire for his 'love interest' to be isolated as Chat Noir. These MASSIVE RED FLAGS are treated as Just More Innocent Sadrien Things, because he's sOoOoOo Sad and SoOoOoO Lonely~

Oh god, now I had an awful thought that this is where Adrien getting jealous of Luka, and Luka feels bad/”knows what’s best” so he either ditches Marinette/finds an excuse to leave or makes sure that Adrien gets his time with her.

Because it’s the love square so it’s “important” that Marinette spend time with Adrien.

Anonymous asked:

Dnb: assuming the Senti-Adrien theory is true, in the season finale, Viperion joins the fight, stops SM from using the ladybug an cat miraculi by going back in time only to use them by himself, wishing for Adrien to be a real boy (and love Marinette). Of course Luka needs to give something in exchange, worst case scenario, his life.

That got really dark.

Though tbh with how much they push Luka and Marinette around, one of them will probably have to give up something huge for Adrien (they both already sacrificed their relationship, so--).

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: If Chat Noir joins Shadow Moth then he is treated by both Gabriel and Heroes as his greatest asset, even through he is still complete joke that is defeated by rest of Heroes faster than Mr Pigeon in "Timetagger". (Bonus points if Heroes defeat him by "Backhand Offhand", Offscreen or he is defeated by "Friendly Fire" from Akuma of the Week due to his own stupidity)

tbh I could probably do more sad math with “how often Chat Noir/Cataclysm is useless,” bonus if it’s put up against characters/Ladybug stroking his ego.

Anonymous asked:

DNB: Adrien's fears concerning Ladybug are made more explicit through a nightmare/vision (possibly akuma-induced) of Ladybug calling him unreliable/saying she doesn't need him anymore because she has partners she can actually COUNT on. Naturally, this is treated as Pure Sadrien Hours rather than a fair critique. Bonus if he ditches/forces her to beg for his assistance AGAIN to soothe his poor bruised baby ego.

*“Malediktator” flashbacks, but Adrien instead of Chloe*

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Adrien/Chat Noir skips out on a fight/akuma attack for some spiteful, selfish reason or another. Ladybug handles it without him, either completely through her own skill or with help from Rena/other heroes. Adrien then angsts about 'not being needed', with Marinette's 'Mistake of the Day' being that she didn't cater to his pity party due to being too busy DOING HER DAMNED JOB.

me seeing that one leaked script where they talk about how Chat/Cataclysm would make things easier: *sigh*

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Plagg will encourage Adrien to act even more selfishly, skipping more battles and being even brattier. This is so his stans can blame Plagg for being 'a bad influence' on their perfect angel, even when it's clear the two of them are on the same wavelength. Oooh, he's twisting his rubber arm; how AWFUL--! Adrien would NEVER do all these Awful Things he's already done if he didn't have Plagg~! What a bad kitty~!

“rubber arm” jdfkgjndfjgfg

tbh Plagg already is super laidback and doesn’t really like transforming/complains about going into battle, so this isn’t much of a stretch.

Anonymous asked:

DNB: "Gabriel Agreste" or other episodes will reveal that Gabriel flew many, if not ALL of the same Red Flags his son displays on a regular basis. The narrative treats this as though this makes Gabriel more 'sweet, sad and sympathetic' rather than illustrating that both of them are dangerously entitled and generally awful.

This sounded really intriguing as a sort of “apple doesn’t fall far from the tree” thing until that last sentence kicked in.

That’s damn accurate to what they’d do too, ugh.

Anonymous asked:

DNB: Plagg is the one that discovers that Gabriel is Hawk/Shadowmoth, but is forcibly sworn to silence by Adrien. Bonus if Adrien somehow gives this command without learning what Plagg is trying to tell him -- i.e. he get irritated and orders Plagg to shut up in a way that bars him from EVER saying what he was attempting to say -- so that Adrien's stans can claim it was all a big misunderstanding and blame Plagg entirely for it. Or Marinette. Somehow.

Oh oh oh!

Alternatively, Adrien silences Plagg without realizing that he has that kind of power (like saying, “you can’t tell anyone!” and we see the magic hit Plagg’s mouth), so the fandom can say, “HE DOESN’T KNOOOW THAT HE DID IT.”

Anonymous asked:

dntb: Luka is gonna be villianised in some way for not telling Marinette he knows the identities of both of them

Meanwhile, Alya, slipping the bouncer her free pass.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: After one of the kwamis makes one snickering comment too many, Marinette snaps and tells them all to shut up (with obvious outcome). Narrative obviously equals it to scene between Gabriel and Noroo from "Sandboy" (Bonus Points if Narrative deems Marinette worse than Gabriel, because "Gabriel forbid Noroo from talking as joke")

oh my goooooood

Marinette: *snaps because she’s stressed out*

the fandom: SHE SO MEAN!!! ;o;

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Adrien's reveal as Sentimonster just for additional souce of "sad points" for him

this DNB: i am inevitable

mystic-lionroar asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: The writers' Status-Quo allergy kicks in when someone very pointedly implies Chloe, Lila and/or Gabriel work for Hawk Moth with how many Akumas they tend to cause... only to get reminded point blank that "Hawk Moth is the sole one responsible for this mess, no one else". Cue two episodes later, both the characters and the writers' memories of this scene are erased. What erased it? ╰( ･ ᗜ ･ )╯Why, Marinette can be held responsible for this one, of course! (Me: (ノಠ益ಠ)ノ彡┻━┻)

╰（‵□′）╯

OH MY GOOOOD

“Crocoduel” also basically already blamed Marinette for two akumatizations so at this point we’re just waiting.

Anonymous asked:

DNB: To further cement the whole 'destined to be' shlock, after the shock of the eventual reveal wears off, we get a call back to how frequently Chat Noir told Ladybug that they were meant for each other and that she 'was the only one who didn't see it'. Marinette agrees that she was silly and foolish for not recognizing it sooner, parroting Adrien's bullshit in order to further cement the notion that she's HAPPILY accepting her 'fate' to be nothing more than his personal prize.

You can’t see it but I have my head in my hands in grief.

Anonymous asked:

DNB: Adrien's gross sense of entitlement towards Ladybug will become even more explicit, with him angrily ranting about how he DESERVES to 'get the girl'. No matter how awful and nasty he gets, the narrative continues to treat him as though he's 100% right to be pissed off at her for DARING to have agency or thinking she has a say in things. As clearly, the biggest mistake Marinette has ever made is thinking she gets to have Opinions or make her own decisions. G-girl power...?

Marinette needing to be constantly told what’s best for her by other people and it’s okay because she needs to accept+follow all opinions.

end me

Anonymous asked:

DNB: The double standard between Adrien and other characters will be more noticeable. Adrien will still be put on a pedestal.

Because no one will notice Adrien if they didn’t put him on a metaphorical and physical pedastal.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Foxy Cat and CaraBug

omg Fox Adrien.is one of the worst hero choices I’ve ever heard fjdgjfjdglfkdg

I could at least see why Marinette thought that Adrien fit the snake since the narrative gushes for him so hard.

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow: As a result of being written by a straight white male writing team, the show starts to use Marinette’s girliness against her. From her love of pink being mocked to the kwamis admitting(in the spirit of another DNB) that they don’t respect Marinette because she’s “too girly”, to her fashion designing being treated as a cutesy but ultimately fickle pastime(in the spirit that all teenage girls’ interests are treated), the show absolutely throws Girl Power out the window in favor of giving Marinette absolute hell for daring to present herself in a traditionally feminine way, treating her femininity as the butt of a joke that no one is laughing at. Bonus points of someone says(or even outright tells her to her face) that she’s “such a girl”, as if that’s supposed to be an insult. Alternatively, this happens to Rose instead of Marinette, as she’s just as girly if not more so than her, or it happens to both of them(regardless of whether or not it’s at the same time).

WOOOOW

I mean, honestly, yeah.

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow: Things other characters did that were bad will be retconned into things that Marinette did instead, or will otherwise be retconned into being her fault, no matter how improbable or contradictory. Meanwhile, bad things characters did to Marinette or good things characters did FOR Marinette will be retconned into nonexistence.

I MEAN THEY BLAMED MARINETTE FOR “SILENCER” SO--

MATTER OF TIME.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Simultaneous Akumatization of Manon, Chris, Ella and Etta, obviously when they are babysat by Marinette, because otherwise ML Writers wouldn't be able to paint it as Marinette's fault

oh god

please no

I mean, not even just to blame Marinette for it, but I can’t even stand these kids when they’re on their own, MUCH LESS TOGETHER.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: If Adrien gets akumatized, then it would be just Chat Blanc with shoulder pads and crown

Is this a reference to my Miracle Queen post?

Because yes.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't need burrow: In Hack-San Chat Noir will pull a Sentibubler and refuse to listen to Alya with the Ladybug Miraculous as he doesn't have a brain unless he can progress the not so progressive four-sided Hellfire, which is actually still the best-case-scenario. I mean he could just not come at all, since he's only there to flirt with and seduce Ladybug with unfunny jokes.

Anonymous asked:

DNB: Adrien causes problems because of Alyabug.

ugggggh

Anonymous asked:

DNB: Alya will immediately have access to things like the creation of charms despite how long it took for Marinette to be able to do that.

Wait--

If she doesn’t, did they literally just give Alya the ladybug miraculous because they knew that Markov wouldn’t have a way of hiding the amulet on him and they didn’t feel like putting it on his model???

Anonymous asked:

Didn’t Need Burrow: Alya’s Ladybug name is “Coccinelle” aka “Ladybug” in French. Or something equally lazy such as The Red Spotted One or the Scarlett Beetle. Even if it sounds cool at first glance, it will ultimately boil down to a plain and obvious name, because apparently EVERY superhero’s name has to so blatantly relate to the animal their Miraculous is based off of. For some reason. Somehow. -_-

fhkgjfdkgdfg okay but “The Red Spotted One” made me laugh.

Anonymous asked:

Hack-San DNB’s:

• Chat Noir will be upset that Ladybug trusted her miraculous to someone else.

• There will be a comment on how Alya was a just as good, if not better Ladybug than Marinette.

• Alya’s performance as LB will be used as another instance to show Marinette made the ‘right choice’ telling her her identity.

• Using the Horse to teleport back instead giving the earrings to Alya will not be mentioned as an option.

• Scene of Adrichat being sad about ‘feeling replaced’.

Especially on that “comment that Alya is just as good, if not better,” one, it probably won’t even be used as a reassurance for Marinette like, “oh, that’s good to know that I’m not the only one who can be Ladybug,” it’ll just be praise for Alya.

Anonymous asked:

Hack-San DNB: Chat Noir gets angry with LB for not telling him she was leaving & she has to apologize for it.

(Despite making sure there was a backup Ladybug to protect Paris, unlike Chat in the NY special who left the city completely unprotected).

Convenient.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: "Dearest Family" (episode where both of Marinette's parents are akumatized) will be about Marinette learning "true value" of Chat Noir

Either that or incorporating Adrien into the family.

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Psycomedian will be blatant Joker rip-off

You can just say “all akuma in the season will either be rip-offs of themselves or past akuma,” it’s okay. :P

Anonymous asked:

Another DNB for Hack-San, since we see Jagged Stone in the trailer, so if they show it..:

The “most precious possession” of Jagged’s will be Fang and not, y’know, either of his children.

I missed that trailer.

Honestly there could be some funny moments with the concept, but if Jagged is the only joke made about it then yes, I will be very bitter.

Alternatively, Jagged picks his guitar instead.

Anonymous asked:

DNB: In the Alyabug episode, Alya will either be Practically Perfect In Every Way™, or will royally screw up in a way that will somehow lead to Marinette. Either way, Cat Noir will flirt with the new Ladybug, or pull a Sentibubbler. Or both. There may or may not be a comment about how Alyabug's costume is so much better than Marinette's despite being a fashion designer.

dkfgkjdfgjf I adore how this whole thing is just, “there’s so many ways it could go wrong!”

#category: salt #Didn't Need Burrow #other: ask and answer

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shirophantomvox · 4 years ago

Text

Ging Freecss Character Analysis

Hisoka Analysis| Illumi Analysis| Killua Analysis| Chrollo Analysis

What’s up, y’all? I am back again with another analysis. Today, I will be talking about Ging Freecss and I am glad that this was requested by @dukinaxael. I’ve been wanting to talk about Ging for a while and now is my time to shine. PS, I’ll be doing Leorio’s character next. I’m sorry that this is so short! I haven’t been able to watch the last seasons because Netflix will not upload them. Enjoy anyway!

We all know that Ging is considered to be a dead-beat father to his son Gon. He is the reason why Gon wants to become a hunter in the first place and will do ANYTHING to achieve that goal. As the story is told, Ging left his home when he was 12 years old to take the Hunter’s exam. After passing, he never returned home, at some point met Gon’s mom, and saved a lot of felons/criminal’s lives. Now he is apart of the Hunter’s association (I think?) and apart of the Zodiacs (I think). Some of these next statements are assumptions because I haven’t seen anything past season 4. From that little bit of information, it seems like Gon gets his “over achiever” mentality from his dad. Who would have thought that a young man who had just obtained his hunter’s license would use it to help out criminals instead of busting them? Aunt Mito has expressed how she felt once her brother left and didn’t return, that is why she stressed that Gon should return home once he gets his license. She even stated that she cried for the longest when she realized he wasn’t coming back.

The whole mystery about why Ging abandoned Gon is very fuzzy. According to Aunt Mito, Ging dropped Gon at his house, said that he isn’t with Gon’s mom anymore, and left while some people say that Mito took Gon from Ging because she felt that he was too immature to take care of him. Some even say that he lost a custody case to her. I can’t tell you if this is true or not because I don’t know and I haven’t seen any seasons after 4.

Judging from YouTube Clips, Ging seems to be a selfish dad and doesn’t care about how his son basically cried like fuck for feeling guilty about what happened to Kite.

Leorio asked why he hadn’t seen Gon in the hospital and he acted like he didn’t care. If you think about it, Gon is the type of child that doesn’t want things handed to him, so maybe Ging was implying that he didn’t want to see Gon until he continued to push and work towards finding him. Still, that’s a horrible way to reacted once you’ve found out that your son is about to die. Here are some questions that I’m sure most of you have:

Why did Hisoka want to talk to Ging? Does he know that Ging is related to Gon?

Why does he refuse to go anywhere near Gon?

Why does he only talk to Gon on a high tree and not on the ground where everyone else is?

Why did he send his son on a goose chase just to find him?

I don’t want to say that I hate Ging but I strongly dislike him. (If he did do this) Why would you abandoned your child and leave him with your sister for her to raise? Then you send your 12 year old son, who had endured so much emotional pain/trauma from beasts he had to fight along the way, BTW, just to meet you and then you only talk to him once your high off the ground? Ging, not the best guy in the world and certainly doesn’t deserve the #1 Dad mug.

Did Ging do all of this so he could make his son stronger while he was away?

In regards to question 1, I’ve seen some rumors on YouTube implying that Hisoka had an agreement with Ging to watch over Gon until he returns. I’m assuming this was after Gon left home. Ging said that once Gon returns home safely he and Hisoka will fight until the death.

Do you all remember when Hisoka told Gon something along these lines at the end of their fight at Heaven’s arena?

Many people have suggested that Hisoka had been protecting Gon and Killua from fighting opponents they wouldn't win against and it makes sense. He wouldn’t let them pass until they learned about Nen and beat the crap out of them hoping that the pain would cause them to quit fighting and never receive their Hunter’s License or take on strong opponents. Now if that last part is true, why would Ging set up an entire game to lead Gon to him? That's still twisted no matter how you look at it. Like I said, this manga is twisted in ways that I can't understand, lol.

Hisoka and Gon consistently fighting reminds me of Danny Phantom and Vlad Plasmius.

Another person implied that Hisoka and Kite were people directed by Ging and along the way included Bisky (just by coincidence).

I would like to make a note. Pictures that were taken of young Ging portrayed him to be a happy and proud man but present day Ging looks angry, unhappy, and always ready to fight. Could this be due to the horrific nature of the Hunter's exam and other opponents that turned his innocence and humanity into something worse? We see the same thing happen to Gon. He was a happy bright kid that allows his anger to spiral out of control...and always wants to fight.

Well, you know what they say: Like father like son.

Ging and Gon finally have a talk as father and son.

Apparently, Ging is on his way to the Dark Continent and forbids Gon to follow him. Overall, Ging has a toxic love for his son by consistently pushing his away until the very last second. I don’t know what is up but this anime is the definition of toxic love.

I can definitely say that Ging is a much better father than Zarkon. At least he acknowledges Gon unlike Zarkon who thinks his son is weak because he is half Altean. Damn, anime/manga’s; what’s up with the toxic father trope? Is this supposed to be the driving force to marketing these male characters stronger? Not going to lie, the toxic or sexist father trope is old and annoying .

This part of the analysis is based form what I’ve heard about Ging, YouTube clips, and what has been said about him. Of course I’m probably leaving out a lot of information but that’s because I haven’t seen the rest of the seasons.

Judging from photos kept around the house, Ging always wore his hat over his eye. I guess he was going for the Emo look when he was younger. His hat has hairs stick out from it which probably implies a certain type of cloth the hat is made from. In other instances, He has his hair sticking up like Gon’s but has a cloth wrapped around the edges. He wants them to be on fleek you know? Other times he just has his hair out with no hat or cloth. He usually wears white pants, shirt, and a blue cloth over his front and back side.

I hope you all enjoyed this. I did try my best and I am so sorry that it is short.

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pillage-and-lute · 4 years ago

Text

An Ever Fixed Mark (Part 5)

This is pretty par for the course as far as some slightly horny bits but no actual horniness. Still, if that squicks you, read with caution.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, (here) Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10,

Read it on Ao3 HERE

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The next few days of Geralt’s marriage didn’t fare much better than the first. He and Jaskier were truly an ill match. Sure, the young man was charming, not even Geralt was immune to his wiles, and he was certainly easy on the eyes, but he’d never met someone as annoying as Jaskier.

Jaskier could talk a mile a minute, and the less Geralt talked, the more Jaskier did. This rankled. Geralt had learned that talking less was supposed to encourage less conversation, but clearly Jaskier hadn’t grasped that.

Far worse than the talking was the singing. Singing, humming, tapping, even playing his lute, Jaskier was always doing something. It was like riding beside a musical whirlwind, with the added penalty that at least a whirlwind wouldn’t know lyrics.

It wasn’t totally Jaskier, Geralt knew. They were riding hard to get as far from Lettenhove as possible, and the weather hadn’t let up. It had rained for almost five days, steady, drenching rain, with never enough time to get dry. They went to bed damp and woke up damper. Their socks were moist, their hair sopping. Jaskier was pouting because he couldn’t play his lute and somehow that made him more talkative. Despite the springtime, the rain was cold and sometimes he had to pause mid chatter to shiver. All this, made Geralt’s mood go south. Worse, he always hated parting from his brothers. There were so few of them, the first days without them were hard.

And he had to deal with some spoiled little rich boy.

That wasn’t being fair to Jaskier, he rarely acted spoiled, not really spoiled. It was, however, intensely clear that he was used to comfort and they were not, right now, comfortable. He didn’t complain too much about things Geralt couldn’t change, like the weather, apart from the odd sniffle about all his clothes being wet. He did beg to stay in an inn though.

That bothered Geralt too. They really had little money, and here the lad was trying to get Geralt to spend it on something they didn’t need. He’d survived rain before.

That thought gave Geralt pause. Of course he’d survived rain before, but had Jaskier? It was unlikely. Days and nights of being slightly damp and chilly weren’t good for humans, they tended to get things. Like chest infections. And pneumonia.

Geralt spared a glance at the figure riding, hunched, beside him.

Unfortunately, Jaskier seemed to take this as an invitation.

“I can’t wait to get to Oxenfurt,” he said. “I have this friend, Essi, I think you’d love her. She’d certainly love to meet you, and she’s quite pretty, so even if you won’t tell me your stories perhaps you’d tell them to her.”

Was there a hint of bitterness there?

“Anyway,” Jaskier continued. “She wouldn’t be frightened of you in the least, I know because one time we were drunk... well, I was drunk and she was tipsy, and this man came up, really rough looking type you know? And I was raised to be polite so I ask him his business...”

Geralt stopped paying much attention. If the bard could manage that much, all in one breath, he was fine. Jaskier continued, all about this Essi character and a man trying to mug them in an alley. Apparently the girl had kicked him in the rattle and flute so hard he’d thrown up.

“And there’s this great pub,” Jaskier was saying, gesturing broadly with one hand and flinging raindrops into Geralt’s face. “It’s called the King’s Boots, dunno why, but it’s got good ale. Like, really good, not the swill you probably get in these little backwater towns. Pretty barmaids, too, if that takes you fancy.”

There it was again, that odd little inflection.

“It took my fancy, when I was a student there, of course. They weren’t terribly interested in me but, well, I began studying there at fifteen. Really, I still had spots. I wasn’t the catch you see before you now.”

Geralt didn’t deign to respond. Whether or not Jaskier was a catch wasn’t something he was going to weigh in on.

Even if he definitely had an opinion.

That was maybe the worst of it all. In spite of the constant noise and restless intrusion into Geralt’s life and routine, he did like Jaskier. That was good, considering they were married, but he wanted to kiss Jaskier, at least once. Just to try it out. That was bad because their marriage was about a half inch from being a sham. Married in name only.

“What sort of ladies do you get?” Jaskier was asking. “I mean, it’s obvious you never have any trouble finding partners.”

Geralt thought of a woman in the woods, of Blaviken, of blood.

“Shut up.”

“No really, Geralt,” Jaskier whinged. “I wan’t to know. Queens and mages? Legendary beauties.”

“Prostitutes.”

“Ah, legendary beauties it is then.”

“I don’t know about legendary,” Geralt said, cursing himself as he did so for encouraging this inane line of questioning. “But they were beautiful enough. For a price.”

“Ah the ladies and gentlemen of negotiable affection will forever have a place in my heart,” Jaskier sighed. Geralt wasn’t about to hear Jaskier’s sexual history in any capacity. For his sanity, he decided to shut the conversation down.

“I expect they’re the only ones willing to touch you.”

Shit. That one had been too harsh. He didn’t mean it, surely men and women and people all fell at Jaskier’s feet with even a glimpse of his smile. He must know he’s attractive.

Jaskier barely spoke the rest of the day. He wasn’t even pouting, exactly. Just...quiet.

They made camp under cover of some trees. The thick canapy leant enough dryness that Geralt could build a big fire and they hung their clothes over some low branches to dry. Out of the corner of his eye Geralt saw Jaskier take the basilisk leather from his pack and stroke a hand over it, which was strange. The material simply didn’t absorb water and needed no care.

Perhaps he just...liked it. It was a nice thought, sitting sort of warm and heavy in Geralt’s stomach, like a good meat pie. Jaskier liked his gift. Of course, he’d known that, back the day they’d met. That actually, apart from Jaskier’s father, hadn’t been too bad of a day.

Geralt thought about that day as he hunted wild game for their supper. He snagged a pheasant, a male, because it was mating season, and remembered how nervous he’d been, how at ease Jaskier had seemed. Perhaps it was because Jaskier had likely always known it would be, at least somewhat, a political match. Geralt had never thought there’d be a match at all.

Back at camp Jaskier had water boiling and was sitting in front of the roaring fire in just his trousers and chemise, even his socks so damp as to need a good drying. Geralt set the game to boil with a few wild carrots for a stew and sat beside him, feeling his hair finally begin to dry.

“This didn’t start out bad,” he said. He meant them, of course, and he meant it as a sort of apology, even if he knew it was woefully lacking. He just didn’t know what to say. Somehow, Jaskier’s mind must have been running along the same track.

It’s alright. You never wanted to get married to me.”

No, Geralt thought but didn’t say. I never wanted to get married. It has nothing to do with you. There’s nothing at all the matter with you. I’m just a grumpy bastard and we’re not a good fit.

A little voice in the back of Geralt’s head said, ‘you could be. If you let yourself, you could fit’. It sounded unnervingly like Eskel.

The truth was, if it had been anyone besides Jaskier, especially any noble, Geralt may have hated all this more. Jaskier liked nice clothes and clean appearances, but he wasn’t vain. He liked nice things but wasn’t greedy. He craved praise but wasn’t prideful, disliked many things but wasn’t hateful. Compared to the thieving, conniving, small minded nobles Geralt knew, he was unlike them all.

He was definitely unlike his father.

Jaskier played his slow tune on his lute. It was comforting and almost familiar, just background music. Geralt stirred the pot, breaking up some larger chunks of meat with the spoon.

Maybe this would fix some things. They’d be dry, with hot food. That could fix a lot.

“Geralt,” Jaskier asked. “Can I sing?”

Damn. Well, it was weird the lad was asking for permission, but Geralt didn’t like the idea of controlling the man’s voice, no matter how often he told him to ‘shut up’. Somehow it didn’t feel the same.

“Whatever,” he said.

Jaskier sang lowly, voice pitched at the edge of human hearing. Geralt wasn’t a human, of course, and could hear it clear as day. It was a folk song he’d heard before, a tragedy about a young woman who’s love left and she drowned herself.

It didn’t seem fitting. Jaskier was so lively. Geralt prayed he hadn’t fucked up enought that he’d dampened the bards spirit.

“Do you know The Chandler’s Wife?” Geralt asked when Jaskier’s song was done.

“That one, with the” Jaskier clicked his fingers three times, mimicking the snapping or tapping that happened in the song.

“Hmmm,” Geralt confirmed, nudging the contents of the pot.

Jaskier began to play. It was a bawdy song, with tapping substituted where innuendo would be. It was simple and cheerful and short, and by the time it was finished they both had steaming bowls of stew.

“Of all the songs you could have asked for,” Jaskier said, blowing on his stew. “I never would have picked that one.”

“Lambert’s favorite,” Geralt grunted.

Jaskier chuckled. “Makes sense, seems like his sort of song.” He took a large spoonful of stew and groaned in delight. Geralt very emphatically did not pay attention to that sound in any way at all.

“I expect you miss them,” Jaskier said.

“Some,” Geralt didn’t want to talk about it, so he focused on shoveling stew in to his mouth instead. Jaskier got the hint. He just settled one tentative hand on Geralt’s shoulder for a second, then went back to eating. He may as well have pressed a brand to Geralt’s skin.

That night, in their separate bedrolls in mostly dry and fire warmed clothes, Geralt could still feel Jaskier’s palm against him.

There was another reason, Geralt knew, for his over-grumpiness. It was guilt. Mostly he was alright, but hearing Jaskier chatter excitedly about Oxenfurt and all the things they could do together there...ate at him.

Jaskier had said he didn’t want to be left. Gotten rid of, had been his phrasing. And Geralt was going to. This rain had just been proof, though. Next time it could be pneumonia or hypothermia. The boy shouldn’t be out here.

It didn’t help Geralt sleep much better. Jaskier had also used the phrase ‘abandon’.

-- -- *-- --

The next village had a monster problem.

“Drowners, what do they do?”

“They drown people, Jaskier.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “No, I meant, what do they look like--”

“Ugly.”

Another eye roll. “And how do they do it. Do they spin like an alligator? Do they sink claws in and pull...?”

“The second one,” Geralt said, sharpening his sword. He figured they were far enough from Lettenhove that whatever political turmoil Vesemir had unleashed wasn’t going to catch them too soon.

“I can’t wait. Do they have scales? Fins? Are they slimy like frogs?”

“Jaskier,” Geralt said, finally paying attention. “What do you mean ‘you can’t wait?”

“I get to see you in action! Heroic witcher risks his life for helpless townspeople, it’s all very...Galahad.”

“Galahad?”

“Yes Geralt, he’s only the most famous hero written about in the last three hundred years,” Jaskier said. He was gesturing broadly, the way he always did when talking about literature. Geralt settled in for a rant.

“You know, ‘my strength is as the strength of ten becasuer my heart is pure,’?” That was Jaskier’s quoting voice.

“Never heard it,” Geralt grunted.

“That’s okay, it’s about this hero who’s good and saves everybody. You’re better than him anyway because you’re real.”

“I’m...better than a mythical hero.”

“I mean...yeah,” Jaskier said like it was obvious. “Everyone knows flaws make a character better. You’re totally hot with a heart of gold, score. Very classic. But also,” Jaskier turned to him grinning. “You’re emotionally constipated and smell like onion.”

“You said heroics a few days ago.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, whatever, that’s what’ll go in the songs. Best of all is that you’re a witcher. Nobody likes witchers but that can change. You’ll be a tragic hero!”

“Tragic?”

“That hair is, do you ever brush it?

“We’re getting away from the point,” Geralt said, resisting the urge to swipe his fingers through his hair. “You aren’t going to see me fight.”

“What, you can’t just leave me at camp!”

No, no he absolutely couldn’t just leave Jaskier at camp. There could be assassins, wolves, anything.

“We’ll get a room at the inn.”

“Really? Oh Geralt, a real bed would be so nice, there’s been this crick in my neck, but you’re not leaving me in an inn room either.”

“You could perform.”

“Excellent bait, but no.”

“Jaskier, please. You need to stay in town,” Geralt was pleading. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been pleading. Probably when he was trying to convince Vesemir not to marry him off for the betterment of witcherkind.

“I want to see you fight!”

“It’s dangerous!.”

“You fight tons of these, right? I’ll stay super far away.”

“You could still get hurt, something goes wrong and you’ll get hurt! Humans are...soft.”

Jaskier tilted his chin up defiantly. Because they were the same height this wasn’t exactly necessary, but it gave Geralt a better view of his simply devastating eyes which was...not helping.

“I have the perfect plan,” Jaskier said. Were there silver flecks in his eyes? In this light Geralt was almost certain there were.

“I’ll stay back,” Jaskier was saying. “Any distance you want so long as I still get a reasonably good view. And I’ll wear the basilisk doublet.”

It was a good idea. Jaskier would stay back, the doublet would keep him safe.

Geralt might get another chance to be smiled at byJaskier.

Doublets. Doublets, doublets doublets. Think about the doublet.

“That would only keep your chest and arms safe.”

Jaskier smirked and patted a hand on Geralt’s chest, causing his slow heart to speed up just a little. “Are you going to let a drowner get to me? Get to my head, Geralt? My pretty face?” Jaskier pouted and Geralt’s stomach flipped over.

“Fine,” Geralt grunted. “You can come along.”

Jaskier looked very fine, all buttoned up in his basilisk leather doublet, and he was surprisingly quiet. This area of the forest was silent. and the ground was soft and slightly damp underfoot. They were near the Pontar river, which they would follow the rest of the way to Oxenfurt.

Here and there Geralt could see signs of human activity, but thankfully no humans in the area. Signs of woodcutters, likely the ill-fated ones who’d discovered the drowner’s pond in the first place, were scattered about.

They came within view of the pond. More swamp, really. It was so covered in green algae that it looked like some sort of oddly paved floor. It was as still as glass. Geralt took Jaskier’s--surprisingly strong--shoulder in one large hand and steered the boy to a log that he deemed was sufficiently far to be safe. Then he drew his sword.

Drowners weren’t hard to fight, and here in this little pond there were just two, skinny and hungry. Geralt felt relief flood him as he realized that he wouldn’t even need his potions. He didn’t want Jaskier to finally understand what a monster he was. Geralt was enjoying putting off that realization as long as possible. He was also enjoying being a noble hero, likened to this Galahad character, who sounded alright if a bit boring.

Geralt rolled his shoulders. He didn’t need to, but it looked nice and Jaskier was looking. The first drowner was close, now, trying to sneak through the algae, but Geralt’s vision was much better than its. He waited until the wretched thing lunged.

The slash of the drowner’s long claws missed Geralt narrowly, but he hadn’t been worried. He pivoted, working on years of instinct. This was who he was. Here he was on much safer ground than with courting and castles. He was a witcher, and fighting monster’s was what he was trained, and to some extent built, for.

The first slash didn’t kill the drowner, instead lopping off the arm that had so recently threatened to claw his eyes out. Then, with a clever twist of his wrist he sent his blade back the other direction, lopping off the head. It had taken all of a second from the point of the drowner’s lunge.

It’s companion was slinking up, ready to attack as well but Geralt didn’t need time to recharge. His senses honed in, he felt his pupils dilate to take in the low light coming between the trees and he leapt.

No normal man could have made the leap that sent him over the drowner’s shoulder and onto the shore behind. It hadn’t been the full length of the pond, but rather a diagonal leap that gave him just enough time as the creature spun around. Geralt brought his sword down and cleaved the thing in two.

“Holy shit.”

Geralt looked up, not even breathing hard.

Jaskier was still in his spot on the log. Unlike Geralt, he was breathing hard. There was a flush across the tops of his cheeks, pretty and pink, and his eyes were wide. Even from his spot across the pond Geralt could see the dark pupils and the blue of his irises.

Gerals severed the heads and warned Jaskier that he was removing the brains for his potions. His response was a squeaked ‘okay’.

Damn. Had he scared the lad? He didn’t smell scared. Geralt wasn’t sure what Jaskier did smell like.

He took the brains quickly and packaged them, then slung the heads of the drowner’s from Roach’s saddle.

Thunderbolt, Jaskier’s horse, had been left at the inn. Inaccurately named, the creature, despite his large size, was docile, gentle, and prone to startling.

Geralt dipped his hands in the scummy water and dried them on his pants to at least get off the worst of the gunk.

“Well?” he asked Jaskier.

“Wow,” the man said, stepping closer. “That was quick, too.”

Geralt grunted. “Only two.” He didn’t bother mounting up, leading Jaskier and Roach out of the forest and back towards town.

Jaskier’s heart still sounded like it was going a little fast.

“Frightened?” Geralt asked. The lad smelled like adrenaline and...oh.

“No, just...exhilarated I suppose. I’ve never seen a battle like it.”

Jaskier smelled aroused. Now that Geralt had realized what it was it was all he could smell. The scent clogged his nose and set his brain in a pink, fuzzy cloud. Did Jaskier think...? Would he want..?

Except, of course not. Everyone knew you could get sort of adrenaline high. Plenty of young warriors got a little...stiff after a battle. And being nineteen, Jaskier probably got, got in that situation, with a light breeze.

He was looking up at Geralt like he’d personally hung the moon, though. No one had ever, as long as he could remember, looked at him that way. There is a certain kind of beauty that comes with being kind to someone, Geralt knew. He hadn’t often seen it. Eskel had scars across his face that were frightening even to some other witchers but his friendship and care towards Geralt always blurred those over.

Now, in this fetid, swamp of a forest, Jaskier was developing that special beauty to Geralt as well.

He was loud and talked all the time, even now that he seemed to have regained his wits he was chattering about what he’d write. His voice sounded less harsh in Geralt’s ears, though. Because Jaskier thought Geralt was special, and that made him special in return.

They made it back to the inn, with a brief stop at the alderman’s house, muddy to the knee, although that wasn’t new. Geralt was also somewhat bloodspattered, which was horrible and wasn’t winning him favors with the townsfolk.

“Got a room?” he asked the innkeeper, a bent old man that Geralt could probably lift on one finger. As is the wont of many smart inkeepers, there was a taproom on the first floor of the inn, and he was industriously cleaning mugs.

“One,” the man said. “One room, one bed. No prostitutes, them ladies’ gotta do business elsewhere.”Geralt nodded and handed over the coin.

“Bathouse in town?” he asked. They followed the old inkeeper’s directions to the edge of town, near the river.

“I can’t wait for a good bed,” Jaskier said. “But I think I’m looking forward to this bath even more. I think my dirt has dirt on it, and my hair is disgusting. Yours too, will you let me wash it?”

Geralt wasn’t listening, also looking forward to the bath. He hummed in response.

“I hope it’s hot,” Jaskier continued. “No, hotter than that, I hope it’s boiling. I want to feel like a carrot in a stew pot when I get in.”

“You’d be a turnip,” Geralt said without thinking.

Jaskier sniffed. “And you’d be an onion.”

Geralt almost chuckled at that. The only reason he didn’t was that, at this moment, it was probably almost true. They both smelled pretty ripe. Jaskier had been correct, too, about there being layers to the grime. Geralt could almost peel himself. Like an onion.

“Anyway, I think I’d be something special, like a dash of pepper or, oh! I’d be a tomato.”

That caught Geralt off guard.

“What.”

“A tomato, when they’re cooked just right so they almost burst when you cut into them and the juice explodes all over your mouth.”

Geralt wasn’t going to think about any juices of any kind exploding all over anyone’s mouth. Especially not Jaskier’s mouth, with it’s pink lips and clever, wicked tongue that darted out from time to time to wet them.

“Don’t you think so, Geralt, aren’t I a tomato?”

“Hmmm.”

Jaskier did it again! It was liable to take Geralt’s sanity, the sight of him wetting his chapped lips like that. Maybe if he didn’t speak so much, worse, if he didn’t bite those lips so much, they wouldn’t be so chapped. For some reason Geralt had an insane desire to smear ointment across Jaskier’s lips with his own fingers.

They would feel so soft.

Geralt paid the bath house attendant and they followed directions to a separate area in the low, stone building, where they could strip off and have a sort of sponge bath. This was of course so that they didn’t get dirt and monster guts in the bath, and was done with each in their own little three-walled wooden stall. Geralt had to call for a second bucket of water to get the guts from his hair.

Sufficiently scrubbed, he stepped out into the main baths. Only then did he realize the crucial fault in his plan. They were open plan baths. Jaskier was beside him wearing nothing but a towel. Geralt, likewise in a towel, began to sweat.

He kept his eyes firmly forward and cursed his excellent witchery peripheral vision because he could see...see Jaskier. Dark chest hair, soft and slightly damp. The way a droplet of water trailed from the back of his hair and down his neck, wetting tender skin.

Fuck.

Jaskier walked towards the bath as if nothing was amiss. Of course, nothing was amiss, they were just two traveling companions. Having a bath. For Melitele’s sake they were married, even.

Geralt saw Jaskier’s foot hit a wet patch and the young man’s steps faltered, sliding a little. Geralt caught him with all his witcher speed, feeling Jaskier collide with his chest. Those blue eyes again, and yes, definitely silver in them.

Jaskier was blushing, whether from proximity or steam, Geralt didn’t know. He leaned in. Jaskier’s tongue wet those inviting lips again.

“You missed a spot on your cheek,” Geralt said, drawing back. He hadn’t been sure it wasn’t just a freckle, but it was definitely a bit of dirt. Jaskier sighed.

“Better get in and wash it off, then.”

Why did he sound dissapointed?

Geralt looked away as Jaskier released his towel and slid into the water, doing the same and waiting a second until he was absolutely sure it was safe to look. Jaskier had his head tilted back to rest against the floor, where the bath was sunk into the ground. Geralt sat next to him on the little ledge and let the warmth hit his muscles. It wasn’t boiling as Jaskier had hoped, but it was warm and lovely. The day’s fight hadn’t set any ache into Geralt’s muscles, but the days of sitting tensed up about Jaskier had, and he let them drift away.

Next to him Jaskier hummed contentedly and Geralt couldn’t help but agree. They lingered, not speaking, in the warm baths until they were truly pruny. Geralt neatly had to drag Jaskier out, but couldn’t risk Jaskier becoming too drowsy and drowning.

They toweled off and redressed and were back at the inn in time for supper and for Jaskier to play.

Geralt sat in the back of the small taproom, glowering about at anyone who looked like they might get close. He would have gladly gone up to their room and not bothered but Jaskier was performing. He couldn’t leave the bard there, where anyone could attack him, or ply him with too much alcohol and rob him or worse. Besides, he was curious.

Jaskier was capable, in an odd sort of way that was so far different from what Geralt was used to, but he was good at things. There was nothing he tried that he seemed to be terribly bad at. Geralt wasn’t a good judge of music, but he wanted to see if this applied to performing.

As he’d suspected, it did. Jaskier was masterful. Not only was his music top notch, but all his energy, the liveliness, the live wire electricity of him was directed when he performed. Normally, all that energy seemed to make Jaskier’s thoughts and actions a little disorganized, almost mess. Here, in this dingy little tavern, it made him radiant. Every eye was watching, every gaze enthralled, at least for a short time. If Geralt’s medallion hadn’t lain still on his chest he would have called it magic.

It was incredibly sexy. This was Jaskier in his element, fierce and confident and wearing the doublet Geralt had given him.

That struck a strange little shiver down Geralt’s spine. A piece of Geralt, prancing about, tied to Jaskier. The gift of the wolves of Kaer Morhen shimmered and twisted with his movements, the black pearl buttons catching dim light. Every eye was on Jaskier, some more salaciously than others, but Geralt couldn’t have cared less. He wouldn’t have cared even if someone had kissed Jaskier there and then. Geralt had no claim to Jaskier like that, they were only married in name. But they were married, and somehow Jaskier so proudly wearing that doublet meant more than a kiss ever could.

A little part in the back of Geralt’s brain wondered if he could have a kiss and Jaskier wearing the doublet, but that was silly.

Geralt went out to see Roach briefly when the performance was over. The applause was too much for his ears and his head, but ran back in when he heard the shouts.

Three men had Jaskier against a wall, looking furious, and Jaskier looked angrier than they were.

“Let him go,” Geralt growled, hand going for his sword...which was upstairs in their room.

Fuck.

The men turned to him, all holding knives that were only knives because no one let swords get that jagged.

“Your whore here,” one of them said with a shrug towards Jaskier. “Was telling us all how we shouldn’t talk shit about you witchers.”

“Yeah,” sneared another man with rotten teeth and even more rotten breath. “Got all righteous.” He stepped forward, raising his knife. “Said we ought to be thankful.

Geralt felt his muscles tense, gearing for a fight he really, really didn’t want to have.

“I think we oughta show you our ‘gratitude’,” said the third man.

“Or I can show you the door to the next world,” a voice purred. It was Jaskier.

“What is poking into your kidney, or thereabouts,” the bard continued. “Is a fish knife, I believe. I picked it up off the table. It’s pretty sharp, so I wouldn’t recommend moving very quickly. I would recommend, if you like to keep living, dropping your weapons, all three of you, and just walking away.”

The man’s compatriots looked at Jaskier in confusion. Jaskier pressed the knife in just a hair’s breadth further.

“Do it,” growled the man currently held hostage. Three knives clattered on the floor.

“Very good,” Jaskier purred in a voice that was both menacing and sent electric signals all the way down Geralt’s spine. “I can see you’re the brains of the outfit. Now apologize to my friend.”

“Wha..?”

Jaskier twitched his knife hand. “Apologize. To. My. Friend.”

“I’mverysorrymisterwitcher,” the man said, all in one breath.

“Good, and?”

“And...and thank you for getting rid of the monsters?” said the man, hesitantly. Jaskier let down the knife.

“Scram,” he said. The three toughs fled.

“A fish knife?” Geralt asked, trying not to focus on how spine tinglingly sexy that had been.

Jaskier shrugged. “I don’t keep weapons on me usually. Shall we go to bed?”

Bed turned out to be an overstatement. It was pretty much a cot, and a very slim one at that, but neither of them were going to sleep on the rough floorboards so they squished in together.

Jaskier snuggled up to Geralt with contented little humming noises and laid his head on his chest. In the corner, in the moonlight from the window, Geralt could see the basilisk leather doublet where it lay on Jaskier’s pack. It would be a shame, he thought, wrapping his arms around Jaskier to keep him from tipping entirely out of the narrow bed. To part from his husband in Oxenfurt.

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Tag List!

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People who I tried to tag but can’t seem to: @ailorian @thenameislion-dandelion @darkangel91939 @saphiramalbec

Supposed to be tagged and weren’t? Is your tag listed but not actually linked? I’m having some trouble, so let me know!

#geraskier #the witcher #arranged marriage au #geralt of rivia #jaskier #BAMF Jaskier #Bath scene #briefly #pining #miscommunication #they each think the other is sexy #and that they couldn't possibly be interested

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confused-as-all-hell · 4 years ago

Text

Rowan Whitethorn

“You collect scars because you want proof that you are paying for whatever sins you've committed. And I know this because I've been doing the same damn thing for two hundred years. Tell me, do you think you will go to some blessed Afterworld, or do you expect a burning hell? You're hoping for hell--because how could you face them in the Afterworld? Better to suffer, to be damned for eternity.”

Rowan Whitethorn, arrogant and powerful and fierce. The Fae Warrior, Prince of Doranelle, King of Terrasen. A male who had held death in his arms, who loved a queen without her crown, who had a laugh like midsummer thunder.

He was by no account perfect. His love was scarce, his warmth thinner still. His tongue was edged in steel. His temper is rivaled by none.

Rowan has his faults, but the primary source of his hatred is his appearance. People pick on him for being white and for being muscular, as if being either of the two is awful. I understand how several white characters might spark frustration, but (I say this as a woman of colour, myself) that is a fucking bullshit reason to hate him. He did not rummage through a box and draw out the label reading “white.” This is how Sarah J Maas chose to write him.

Rowan might have a more muscular build than average, but that’s literally the entire point. We are shown he trains and works out strenuously, as well as eats certain food to keep himself fit. He is careful with himself, and genuinely puts in the necessary work to retain his muscle. He is a trained warrior that has lived for hundreds of years, of course he’s going to have accumulated strength. Do not attempt to dissuade me on this topic, as I know from personal experience the effects of working out.

Yes, he is out of the ordinary in terms of his looks. Silver hair, green eyes, skin made tan by the sun. But he is always described as handsome from Aelin’s point of view, and have none of you ever been in love? Your boyfriend or girlfriend or significant other is always staggeringly attractive through your lenses. His face is never written as angelic or perfect, however, and Rowan is thought of as extraordinary but not impossible.

Allow male characters to be stunning without detesting them for it, as you would females. I have too often seen people (the same people who praise Nesta or Gwyn for being beautiful) write long-ass posts on why Rowan just isn’t realistic. Maybe it isn’t. But if you opened a fantasy novel expecting realism, I will find myself amused. Rowan is fae, for fuck’s sake. Sarah J Maas wrote them to be attractive.

Another point of speculation is Rowan’s initial dislike of Aelin. He is thought of as abusive, which I will blatantly disagree with.

When Aelin first arrived in Mistward, she and Rowan were not friends. They were not associates. They were two grief-stricken, trauma-ridden characters with awful coping methods and no hope to be seen. Over time, they began to work together, and that begrudging respect blossomed into friendship.

Did they detest one another? Yeah, they did.

And then they realized the full extent of their comments, how wrong they were to be so awful, and they made their peace with it. The point of that dislike was to give them both character arcs, to show they grew from the furious, miserable, bleeding shells of themselves.

They grew from that pain.

Hatred became acceptance, acceptance became respect, respect became friendship, friendship became love. They did not love each other instantly, nor should they have. It was slow, and they learned from the mistakes they made, they apologized for them.

Their romantic relationship (nor platonic) was never toxic. It was always mutual communication and understanding and “I will be here for you, but I will not dive in to fix all your problems.” It was concern and support and admiration. It was “I will sit with you, and I will light my lamps to banish the dark.”

Does Rowan worry after Aelin often? Yes, of course.

But have none of you ever been in love? During times of strife, of terror, you’re always calling in to make sure they’re okay, they’ve dealt the day’s cards. Rowan worried after Aelin, but he never, ever suppressed her. He allowed her to go about on her daily business, he just wished he could accompany for the more dangerous activities. It was not coddling or stifling her, it was wishing for her safety.

Let Rowan worry over his best friend (now wife) without being detested for it.

Had my own best friend put herself in danger, I would have her head for it. I don’t know who told you only friends can worry over your safety, but they lied. Rowan is entitled to being angry at Aelin when she leaves in the dead of night and comes back drenched in blood.

If it was Aedion who was furious, would you have such a problem with this?

For fuck’s sake, a significant other is just your bestest friend who loves you romantically rather than platonically.

Rowan proves time and time again he will always stand beside Aelin; when he pleaded for his cousins’ aid in the war, when he was prepared to give his life for her during QoS, when he was always, always, always there to lend a hand.

He extended a hand... but she was always the one to take it.

He was respectful and courteous of her every boundary, and she his. They never waded too deep into each other’s pasts, never pried or tried to lift that barricade. They gave each other space, understanding.

Yes, I heard you, they didn’t have the best start. But the point of character arcs is to start in a bad place and haul oneself out. It wouldn’t have worked if Rowan was this sweet, gentle, warm character from the very beginning who kissed Aelin’s ass.

Rowan’s wife and unborn child had died, and he was forced to shoulder that burden alone. He was forced to deal with his war trauma alone. He was made into a monster, and he felt he deserved nothing less.

Rowan acted harshly towards Aelin because a few of her comments were triggering and insensitive towards his trauma, and if we can find it in ourselves to forgive Nesta Archeron (who I love very much, don’t attack me) we can forgive him for dealing badly with his issues.

Just because he is a male, and he doesn’t cry or scream or outwardly show his hurt, we have seen from his part of view that he loved Lyria, and Aelin is so different from her, but he loves them both and his guilt is awful.

His being protective over Aelin is a product of his trauma. He left his wife alone, and she was promptly murdered, alongside his unborn son or daughter. Don’t you think it still frightens him to leave Aelin be, especially in their current war state? Even still, I can think of around two occasions where he was protective, and not one more.

What I’m trying to say is, Rowan is allowed to be flawed and PTSD-ridden and hurting.

What I’m trying to say is, he can make mistakes and fuck up from time to time.

What I’m trying to say is, he is worthy of love all the same.

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