#i shouldn't stoop to their level

[ikamigami]

I'm glad that Jack told Sun that he captured Moon.

Unfortunately due to Sun being in another dimension it turned out that Moon spend there 30+ hours (I don't remember exactly) so not good..

At least from this alone we know that Sun didn't plan on leaving Moon alone in the cell.

He knows that being locked in small space alone have a negative impact on mental state cause he experienced this himself..

Another thing that we could take out form this episode is that Sun, Earth and Lunar were talking about Moon before Jack told Sun that he caught Moon.

This at least clears any confusion about whether Moon's family abandoned him or not.. because they didn't. They vented their frustrations and emotions regarding this situation which is a good thing.

Because thanks to that they don't have their emotions bottled in and also they have clearer heads to figure out how to stop/help Moon..

Let's hope that Moon didn't do anything to hurt himself or hopefully he didn't escape yet..

I'm pretty sure that Sun will try to ask why Moon is doing it and maybe he'll ask how he feels and also I hope that he'll open up about his own situation from last year.. cause maybe it'll help Moon even if a bit..

I'm glad that Sun was able to get his cat back though QwQ poor dumb kitty 🥺

Sadly, I'm afraid that the conversation between Sun and Moon will go wrong.. not only because angst but seeing how much the past repeats itself.. it seems inevitable that their conversation will go wrong and Moon will somehow escape..

I wish it won't be like that but I'm trying to brace myself a bit.. and also Sun can stand up for himself more but he's still greatly affected by trauma and abuse which unfortunately won't help Sun in this situation..

At least Sun isn't alone. He has support which is willing to offer him a helping hand.. which is something that Sun and Old Moon didn't have last year..

[etz-ashashiyot]

Okay so the list of medical supplies that the protesters put out that has a lot of sex and STD related care items on it — I know that a lot of people are laughing about this (amongst criticisms that the protesters should really be doing things in a way in which they don't need aid and aren't taking away donations that could be going to Gaza) — but I came across an anecdotal statement that these are actually needed because of the high rates of sexual assault in the protester camp-outs.

And just...... look, if that's true, that says so many more things about what's going on than I ever could, but I'll just leave my comments at: rape is still never resistance. It's also never deserved and should never be mocked even when the victims are part of a racist encampment.

[fubuwu]

Fuck it. Since I'm being spat on and tarnished by jc antis I'm unashamedly doing call out posts as they have harassed me on all my posts and got their little friends to gang up on me. Starting with this "lovely" person

Calling me an abuse apologist just because I said that madame yu had tough love methods..... I was in no way excusing her abuse towards wwx with that FYI. Wwx wasnt even mentioned in the og post.... Never once denied she was abusive in the post either (in fact i ackowledged her abuse numerous times in the post and how her children act around her. But apparently you willfully missed that part). I said she had tough love methods towards her children. NOT WWX. Wwx was not her child or have you forgotten that? She has a tough love attitude in the sense that she toughens up her kids, expects no nonsense, wants them to strive to do better, get on with it, stiff upper lip attitude etc. This does not mean it's a good parenting tactic.

---

Using tough love to describe her parenting technique isn't a compliment. Apparently some of you don't know what it means because tough love, whilst there is love and good intentions behind the actions, it can also have unintended bad consequences on your children and is not a form of love you should expose your child to if you want them to become normal, emotionally stable people.

---

It can lead to unhealthy coping mechanisms and suppressing emotions amongst other things I won't go into. I was in no way complimenting her. It was a critique. That should have been obvious. But in your words, ig some of you don't have reading comprehension.

---

To accuse me of something so extreme as excusing abuse over a FICTIONAL CHARACTER and trying to get all your friends to agree and jump on my posts because I never explicitly made the above points obvious is what a bully would do. You know nothing about me and decided to make such allegations over a single post. I will not stand for this bullying.

---

YOU should be ashamed of your behavior. I've seen your other posts and how you talk about and to REAL PEOPLE.

---

You acting all morally superior whilst attacking me and many others like this makes you an abusive person FYI. And I won't sit there and take it from you or your friends.

---

Moving on to specimen number two

This person has been spamming my notifications jumping on EVERY post, being disrespectful and pretty much accusing me, an ace person, for being ignorant about MY OWN IDENTITY and using ace stereotypes just because I surmised that jc could be ace due to his lack of interest in romance.

---

Echoing the words used by another user in the thread, but denying that such ace persons exist is acephobic in itself. I'm an ace person who isnt interested in relationships outside anything that is close, platonic but meaningful. Many others in the jc fandom say the same thing which is why they see themselves in him. A large portion of the jc fandom are actually ace in fact and we love to see him used in ace rep posts. We're already made to feel like freaks, so to have that thrown in my face is very hurtful. Above all twisting my words and making out I said every ace person hates romance is very disingenuous. I NEVER once said that in the post. I wont have my character attacked and lied about like that.

---

Also, once again TWISTING my words, implying I was pissed off about the incel claims when it was so obvious that I was merely asking out of curiosity where these claims come from?? Because it was never implied in the canon text. There was no anger or malice behind my questions. It was all open discussion. I can see now that this was mental gymnastics at play here to justify your hcs that you know are not canon and use it as an excuse to attack my posts with your friends, all because you were proven wrong. You lashed out on what was an otherwise polite discussion. That behavior is all entirely on you.

---

Ive only ever been respectful in my posts and they were never done to provoke arguments or hate on others opinions. So to wake up and be accused of all sorts over a fictional character is very hurtful and just shows how terribly low your side of the fandom has to stoop just to prove a point and hate on jc.

---

Im not tolerating it and these blatant LIES any longer. I hope other jc antis read these posts and see how nasty you all are. And if anyone thinks this sort of treatment is okay, then you need to look inwardly and step away from the computer. I'm done here.

[palebirdqueen]

Tw abuse, self harm..

Thinking about how someone could believe they are entirely innocent when they would threaten suicide on multiple occasions if I wanted to break up with them, I felt trapped. Oh, “I can't finish school if you leave me; I can't live without you,” etc., the time I hung out with a friend, and she picked me up from her house and told me it made her feel like she wanted to die. I tried to apologize for the entire ride where we were looking for food, and we pulled over in a McDonald's parking lot, and then she started freaking out on me and banging her head on the steering wheel. This is not the only time this fucking happened; too, she did this in a Target parking lot when I mentioned therapy for us cause I seriously did love her despite everything. I wanted to make this work like there's so much that happened that I don't even talk about the cause. Personally, it's tough, and I blamed myself for so so long. I apologized a million times because (people pleaser). However, bro, she messed me up so bad I am still scared to open up to someone new in a relationship since I'm afraid they're not being authentic. She seemed like she genuinely loved me but then turned into someone I don't even recognize, but anyway, she makes me sick!

[idiotwhosigneduptoreddit]

ALL OF YOU LET IT DIE ALREADY IM SO SERIOUS PLEASE

PLEASE FORGIVE MY HUBRIS IN WANTING TO MILDLY ANNOY HEAVYTANKER1945 WHO THE QUOTE COMES FROM AND USED TO DO NOTHING BUT STUPID SHIP WAR GENERATING POSTS LIKE THAT IN R/BREATH_OF_THE_WILD

PLEASE LET IT DIE. OR LET ME INVENT A TIME MACHINE TO TELL MY PAST SELF NOT TO MAKE THIS FUCKING IMAGE

GIRL ITS ALL THE EXACT SAME FACE 😭

[sideeve]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃𝐘

⸝⸝⸝ ࿔ how the bats ( bruce and jason ) leave you ᵎᵎ

⸝⸝⸝ ࿔ disclaimer !! these are not accurate depictions of the characters. please do not let this influence your view on the selected characters written and/or mentioned.

BRUCE WAYNE ᵎᵎ

the newspaper rolled up at your feet gifted you a present you feared. the picture of bruce and selina walking out of a fancy restaurant made your swell up. but what was worse was the headline.

'POTENTIAL MRS. WAYNE ?!'

you drop the paper, gasping.

a tear slips through your water line, rolling down the apple of your cheek. the memories of bruce and you sharing intimate moments rolls in your mind as your body stands still in shock. the possibility that he could've been with her the day before and after baffles you. the sweet promises he whispered in your ears were now recycled and given to her.

that's why he kept you a secret...he didn't want any controversies.

maybe it was your fault. maybe you were at fault for thinking that bruce wayne, the prince of gotham would actually stoop to your level of notoriety and become a 'normal person'. someone of his stature shouldn't be caught dead with you, you told yourself.

for the next few days, you brainstormed your next move. you also took into consideration how you'd be in the aftermath. you'd be lying to yourself if you said bruce wasn't your love. you poured yourself into him. the detachment process would be a battle.

move from gotham? no, you're not that much of a loser to run away from your problems. but could you bare seeing his face everywhere after this? what if you got word that she was pregnant? or the extravagant wedding he hosted just for her. seeing her dolled up like a princess on the day you dreamed of with him.

you made your plan.

bruce was out doing his duties at Wayne Enterprises and wasn't expected to return back to the Manor for a few hours. you could buy plenty of time.

JASON TODD ᵎᵎ

"do you not understand how your words contradict the shit you do?" you argue, trying to get him to look at you. every time you moved into his line of sight, he turned away; like he was ashamed to see you.

his anger from being revived grew and grew. it was taking a toll on your relationship. the benign robin you knew from your teenage years was gone. his face was always contorted into a scowl at any given moment. he was never happy.

his eyes screwed shut as he heard the same words he heard every single time. yes, he did feel pain every time you cried due to his lack of compassion and his absence of love. but could he change? he didn’t know. nor did he try.

“you keep stay after it happens again and again. just fucking leave. you keep wasting your breath on the thing you don’t like knowing i won’t change. i’m not changing so you can experience your little fantasy you want with me.”

his blunt words make the crease in your brows relax. your jaws goes slack in…shock? pain? realization?

you didn’t know. but his words made your cheeks burn and your eyes gloss.

“it’s your fault that you keep staying. i don’t have to change.” he sneers, finally turning to you. for the first time since this conversation started again, his first look at you is in anger.

“that’s it?” you manage to choke out.

“that’s it.”

happy thanksgiving, y’all! my inbox is open for requests and i’m on a dc high rn ( especially for adrian chase! ) and if you want a follow up or add characters, ask! so send em ! request forum.

[leo-interactive-fiction]

ROs being teleported to the past and finding MC as a cute child

Haha, let's see...

E: Your wide, saucer like eyes look up at the smiling figure as they squat down to your level.

"Hey MC... It's been a while... since I've seen you like this..."

"You look familiar..." you murmur quizzically.

"I know... you don't have to recognize me now, but always know..." They envelop your small hands in theirs, "I'll always be by your side, so please don't forget me... okay...?"

------

R: You see them brush a strand of golden hair from their face as they stoop down.

"Well, I wasn't expecting this..."

"Who are you...?" You tilt your head obliviously.

"Oh, me? You don't have to worry about it for now," R looks into your eyes for a moment, finding something in it that makes them chuckle before standing back up and turning away, "Yeah... just forget about me for now, okay? I want our first meeting to be just as it is..."

------

You have to crane your neck to look up at the towering figure before you.

"A-Ah, that must be uncomfortable... my apologies," They awkwardly move to sit on the floor with you, "My curiosity got the better of me, and I wished to see..."

"Who are you...?" You ask, still having to tilt your head slightly to look at them.

"I am, um..." L tinkers with the small silver hairpin that catches your youthful fascination, "Oh! Would you like to see? Be careful though... it's important to me..."

As you grasp the elegantly crafted spiral shaped hairpin, you sense a vague, foreign feeling welling up within you.

L continues softly, "Maybe... you would like to keep it? I truly believe that someday... it will find it's way back to me..."

------

You watch as the silver haired figure sits down next to you, taking in the world around them.

"This is... where you came from..." They draw their legs to their knees, as if trying to shield themselves, "There's no gunshots... no smoke... no death..."

"Who are you...?" You ask hesitantly.

"I will tell you... next time..." They look at you for a fleeting moment before turning away, continuing quietly, "When you see me again... tell me that I'll be okay..."

------

You gaze up at the brutish redhead standing before you.

"So it's actually you, huh...?"

"Do you know me...?" You wonder aloud.

"Yeah, something like that..." They huff and crouch low to look you in the eyes, "Don't worry too much about it. Eventually we'll see each other again."

"When?"

"I don't know, but when we do... try to ignore what I tell you."

------

Your attention is taken by the humming redhead crouching in front of you, wearing an amused smile.

"Oh... you're so... adorable... as a kid..."

"Do you know me...?" You wonder aloud.

M taps a finger to your lips, hushing you playfully, "You shouldn't... ruin... the surprise... Just look forward... to when... you're ready for it... okay...?

------

K: You feel a sense of overwhelming unease as the unkempt stranger reaches towards you, gripping you by your shoulders in a tight claim as they look deep in your eyes.

"You are important. Do you understand? So very important..."

"W-Who are you...?"

"Me? You want to know... me?" A strangely sharp smile creeps onto the strangers face, "I am... the only one you need... Promise me... that you will remember me..."

------

S: You yelp as the homely stranger suddenly picks you up.

"What! Ya got so small! I could throw ya!"

"W-wha-- AH!" You scream in fright as S does a small practice toss of you up in the air, nearly dropping you onto the hard floor below before finally catching you.

"Oop! That could'a been bad! Nearly pancaked your head there!" S merely laughs it off as you are striken with unrecoverable childhood trauma.

-------

You instinctively shudder under the frigid gaze of the stranger before you, even as they bend over to look at you more closely.

"Oh...? How wholly unremarkable... to think you would grow to be..." They pause, seeming to silently berate themselves.

"Do you know me?" You murmur hesitantly.

"That is correct... though it appears you do not know me... rest assured, though, that will not be the case for long..." A devilish smile creases the thin line on their face as they pat your head, "Perhaps if I start feeding you information from a developmental stage, it may expedite our process later... I look forward to seeing how you internalize this..."

F chuckles darkly and settles in as you are subjected to everlasting mental trauma.

-------

Thank you for the ask! I had a lot of fun with it haha

[queenshelby]

An Illicit Affair

Part 31: Taking a Turn

Pairing: Cillian Murphy (46) x Reader (23)

Warning: Age-Gap, Taboo Relationship, Infidelity

After he left the hospital, Cillian tried to call Danielle but, as he had expected, she did not pick up the phone.

Following three attempts to reach her, he gave up and made contact with the bank in an attempt to figure out the make and model of the car that she had bought. After a lengthy exchange with an employee, he found out the name of the agency through which Danielle had purchased the car and after ringing them, he got the details he was hoping for. 

His heart sank as the make and model matched those of the car that had been following you and whilst he realized that Danielle was upset and hurt, he had never considered her to be a woman who could kill.

"Do you need any more assistance, sir?" the employee asked.

"No, that will be all. Thank you," Cillian muttered, cutting the call as a barrage of thoughts consumed his mind, conjuring a whirlwind of uncertainties, fears and danger.

He sat there, in his car, the engine humming in the background, and stared blankly out the windshield, contemplating his next move.

He knew he shouldn't jump to conclusions, but the evidence stacked against Danielle was enough to incriminate her.

He took a deep breath, unsure of what to do, conscious of the risk he was about to take.

Cillian pulled out his phone and dialed the first number that came to his mind. It was the phone number of his divorce lawyer, Ari, and whilst Cillian knew that Ari did not handle criminal cases, he was certain that he could provide him with some much-needed guidance.  After all, the situation he found himself in was as far from normal as it could be.

He couldn't believe that the woman he had once loved and admired had stooped so low and he knew that he had to tread carefully now. 

"Cillian," Ari's voice echoed through the speaker as he picked up the phone. "What can I do for you?"

Cillian took a deep breath, bracing himself for the onslaught of questions and concerns that were sure to follow. "Ari, I need your help," he began, his voice low and tense.

"Alright, tell me what's going on," Ari replied calmly, his tone level and measured and Cillian hesitated, unsure of where to begin, knowing that the revelations he was about to make would change everything. 

"It's Danielle," he admitted, his voice heavy with guilt and regret. "I think she has been following Y/N and I have reason to believe that she intentionally hit her before driving off," he continued, the words tumbling out of his mouth in a rush.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Cillian could imagine the surprise and confusion on Ari's face.

"Y/N?" Ari asked, trying to recall your name. "She is the women you have been seeing, correct?" he then asked, still processing the information that Cillian had presented to him.

"Yes, that's her," Cillian confirmed. "She was hit by a car and is in hospital now with significant injuries, man. She could have died," Cillian told his lawyer with a shaky voice who sighed deeply before responding. 

"And you think that Danielle caused the accident, intentionally?" Ari asked, his voice laced with disbelief, though Cillian could hear the skepticism in his tone.

"That is a very serious accusation. Have you spoken to her about it?" he continued.

Cillian sighed, running a hand through his hair, leaving it in disarray, his composure crumbling. "She hasn't been answering any of my calls or messages," he admitted, kicking himself for not having done anything about his ex-wife's obsessive behavior sooner. "The car that hit Y/N is the same make and model she recently purchased  for our son," he added, anxiety tinging his voice.

"I see," Ari replied, his tone now more guarded. "Cillian, I understand that you're upset, but accusing someone of attempted murder is a very serious matter. Do you have any other evidence to support your suspicions?" he asked, seeking clarity.

Cillian sighed, frustration building up in his chest. "Apart from a series of threatening messages towards me, no, I don't. But I have a feeling that this is not a coincidence," Cillian replied, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and fear.

Ari sighed, taking in the information. "Okay, I hear what you're saying, Cillian. But we can't just go to the police with a hunch," he said, trying to reason with his client.

Cillian nodded, understanding the gravity of the situation. "You're right. I just...need to know that she's not going to hurt Y/N again," Cillian finished, his voice laced with desperation.

"She doesn't have a separate bank account yet and I can probably get copies of the statements for her credit card to see if it has been used in the past few weeks. If she did it, she would have had to be in London," Ari suggested, trying to help Cillian to figure things out. 

"If we can prove that she has been in London then maybe it is enough for the police to question her, but again, Cillian, I must insist that you tread carefully. It would be terrible for everyone involved if this turns out to be a misunderstanding and it would most certainly impact your divorce proceedings against her," Ari warned, concern coloring his voice.

Cillian nodded, understanding the weight of the consequences. "I understand," he told Ari who then told him that he would be calling him back in about an hour or so, after looking through the bank statements.

Cillian agreed and after hanging up, he didn't move an inch. He just sat there, his thoughts and emotions at war, his mind racing with a thousand scenarios, each more terrifying than the one before. 

As the minutes passed, the surroundings began to fade away until there was nothing left but the deafening pounding of his heart. It echoed painfully throughout his entire body, a painful reminder of his fears.

Eventually, he drew a shaky breath and forced himself back to reality.

Cillian cast a glance over his shoulder and out the window. The bustling streets of the city were a welcome distraction from the turmoil that raged within. The sun was beginning to set, brilliant hues of orange and pink painted the sky and cast long shadows over the buildings. He watched as people hurried to and from, pursuing their daily lives until, suddenly, the phone rang again. It was Ari.

"Cillian, I've got some news," his voice was serious, the tone of his voice reason enough to set Cillian's heart racing.

"Danielle has been taking frequent trips to London over the last month but she wasn't there on the day of the accident. She used her card in Dublin that day," Ari informed Cillian, his voice grave.

Cillian's heart sank as he took in the news. He was so sure that Danielle was the culprit and the fact that someone else could have hit you  made him feel slightly relieved and, at the same time, frustrated. He needed answers, and fast.

"There is something else I found though ," Ari continued, snapping Cillian back to attention. "There was a transaction on your account ending 0865 this morning for 189 pounds. It was a charge from CemClean, a car detailing business in Chelsea,"  Ari informed Cillian, the significance of the information not lost on him.

Cillian frowned, puzzled by the revelation. "I didn't go to Chelsea today," he wondered aloud, his thoughts racing as he tried to piece together the puzzle which is when, suddenly, he remembered that he had given his card to Max who wanted to catch a taxi back home from the hospital when he had left. 

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[spideyhexx]

i need sub coryo thoughts. all of them. please i am

begging

i am here to oblige

mdni - fem!reader

He constantly thinks of himself as being defiant enough to classify as a brat, but he's barely scratched the surface.

Coroy instead, is a whimpery and whiny man when it comes to the harder things you put on him, and suddenly any confidence he may have gathered earlier is pushed out the door. Cause his confidence is all talk and no action.

He's a charmer! He knows his way with words. It's the easiest way to get you to fold, to give him a semblance of power. And there are moments of weakness for you with this. Coryo's tongue is too sharp sometimes, his touch is too tight, and his eyes are too intense, you can't help but give in to him and give him everything he pleases. Let him do whatever he wants to you.

But sometimes you get the upper hand. You learn his own weaknesses over time. How much he loves it when you casually rest your hand on his thigh, rubbing circles on the inner part and your hand gradually making its way to his bulge. Just resting it there, you'd tell him. You learn how much he loves his hair pulled or when you smooth it back, guiding his head where you want it. How much he squirms when you trail kisses all over his chest and tummy, or even rub at his chest while cuddling. You use these things to get him right where you want him and soon his sharp tongue is kept quiet, only replying when you tell him to.

Coryo's bad at it though, he's bad at keeping quiet. He's bad at following directions because his brain turns to complete mush in your hands. All he can focus on is how good his cock feels and how much he loves you.

He'd whimper, "'m sorry, baby, I couldn't...couldn't focus, 'm sorry," and it would keep tumbling from his lips, little stupid apologies that mean nothing because you know he's not sorry. You know he wanted to fuck his cock into you and he started thrusting before you told him to.

When you first discovered this side of Coriolanus, he was always so reluctant to beg. He would have felt as though it was beneath him, that he shouldn't let anyone make him stoop to that level, but he'd soon realize how much he actually loved begging for you. It's like as soon as he had your body, as soon as he tasted your cunt and rutted his dick into you for the first time, he was a goner.

So now, it was easier for him to beg, but that didn't mean you would give in as easily. It was fun making him trot around the penthouse, making you dinner, folding your laundry, and doing whatever miscellaneous task you could think of until Coriolanus was practically crying at how hard he was despite you not even paying attention to him. You'd end up taking pity on him, seeing how tight his pants were and how he was breaking out in a sweat.

And like clockwork, as soon as he's released his load wherever you let him (and sometimes multiple loads at that), something inside of him would snap and his sharp tongue is back. Even the times he's too fucked out to take back some control and he's lying in your embrace, nuzzling his head against you, he can't help but make a quip or a jab, which would send you rolling your eyes, trying to decide if you should use this to punish him again.

let's chat about coryo, here :)

[ice-cap-k]

So... Unstable Universe Parrot. I've got thoughts I want to get off my chest about his character, so I'm here to ramble about it.

Parrot kind of drives me crazy. I know I'm not the only one upset by some of his choices throughout the series. But something kind of dawned on me that put the guy in a new light.

Spoilers ahead. Tldr at the end.

Parrot's regularly proven himself to be a hypocrite, what with telling Wemmbu off about how stealing is wrong and you shouldn't stoop to your enemy's levels, only to immediately turn around and talk about stealing from Reddoons the next video later BEFORE he even realized there was anything wrong with Red or Capitol City's way of business. Then there's the blatant killing off of Dean and Wifies' pets while arguing it's fine for him to have an allay just to make it super obvious that, yes, he is a hypocrite.

Then there's the entire mess with Wifies during their fight. They "broke up," sure. Parrot ran away despite Wifies begging him to come back and then later accused Wifies of being the one to leave. Wifies has since apologized profusely and no longer made any attempt to argue with Parrot on the matter of his own safety because he fears Parrot will leave again. Parrot has not yet apologized as of the time I am writing this. Wifies may have overstepped by burning the compass, but Parrot refused to hear him out on a very real concern that Parrot is throwing himself into danger, and Wifies just doesn't want to lose him. Considering Parrot's hero complex, as shown by repeatedly jumping into fights that aren't necessarily his with little to no regard for personal safety, this is a very real risk.

And, you know, also hypocritical on Parrot's behalf for refusing to listen when he himself has expressed one-sided concern for Wifies' well-being during the entire confrontation with Clown. A scenario where Parrot literally refused to let Wifies help despite Wifies wanting to because he did not want to risk Wifies safety.

I think Parrot was telling the truth. He doesn't understand.

And that, when I really thought about it with this last episode, is kind of fascinating. Even when Parrot has lived through an exact scenario beforehand where he felt the desire to keep someone he cared about safe, he refused to listen when the situation was reversed. In fact, Parrot said his usual "I don't understand" multiple times after Wifies burned the compass and explained he wanted to keep Parrot safe.

He doesn't understand, despite having been in a very similar situation before.

The more I thought about Parrot's actions throughout the entirety of Unstable Universe, the more I realize that Parrot doesn't seem to experience empathy. At all.

He feels sympathy. He feels bad for the people forced to mine for ores to line Capitol City's koffers. He feels bad for Wifies being chunk banned and missed him dearly because he does care about him. He felt bad for Dean's predicament with the mafia and took him under his wing. He has a strong sense of justice. He helps people. He knows what's wrong and fights for what is right. In fact, Parrot is an objectably good guy. But he can't put himself in someone elses place. And when he does end up in the other person's shoes, he can't handle it.

Just look at how freaked out he was over Clown saying they were a lot alike. Something that had a profound impact on one, possibly more videos. Let's ignore the moral high ground Parrot tried to scrape together at the end that was absolutely unjustified and focus on Parrot's actions after Clown said that for the moment. Even after getting Wifies back from the threat of Clown almost killing his friend, Parrot STILL wanted to go after Branzy again despite very clearly seeing what that kind of a hostage situation would lead to. Even after experiencing the same threat to a loved one that he was trying to hold over Clown's head, Parrot could not make the connection that Clown may feel the same. That history would just repeat itself.

Heck, he doesn't even care that he's planning on dragging into a war a bunch of innocents who had only been trying to escape the mafia when he went to the Farlands. Despite the fact that he had his own civilization already taken over by the mafia.

Parrot has his hero complex and acts narcissistic and hypocritical because he can not make the emotional connection between his own feelings and others.

I'm no psychologist, but he strikes me as someone with Empathy Deficiency Disorder. People with this disorder tend to criticize or blame others without understanding where they are coming from, don't take responsibility for their own actions, have little to no patience, rarely show any appreciation for others, and regularly put themselves first and foremost.

Sound familier?

You could probably consider someone like Jack Sparrow from Pirates of the Caribbean as someone with something similar to this disorder. That or more of a narcissistic disorder, but those tend to go hand in hand.

I don't know if this was the content creator's intention as he wrote up his character, but it certainly helped me put Parrot's actions into perspective. It's really cool to think about watching a character go through the hero's journey without something as basic as empathy. While it's too early to tell, the only other character that might come close to such low empathy is Ash, who is literally the big bad. Then again, we see so little of Ash and his spoken word makes him an unreliable narrator regarding his own goings-ons. Not even Clown, who we've seen has plenty in common with Parrot. Clown experiences empathy, because he knew how upset Parrot would be if Wifies was threatened. Just as upset as Clown would be if Branzy was threatened.

Parrot has changed a lot as a character through the series, but his ability to empathize has remained static. I imagine at the true climax of the story whenever that may be that Parrot will somehow come to understand that other people can and do feel the same. And I'd like to say that will be a satisfying moment, but who knows what it might take to reach that point. A lot has been lost already.

(Tldr: I think Parrot's character has Empathy Deficiency Disorder and that's why he does the most frustrating, seemingly selfish things.)

[0rb0t]

no but i fucking LOVE the concept of "evil morty" being considered "evil" because he's tired of Rick and wants to do anything he can to get away from him. This is like a PERFECT metaphor for victims of abuse.

You do not owe your abusers kindness. In fact, if you're trying to get away from someone who is TORMENTING you, actively hurting you, etc., I personally believe you are within your rights to do whatever you can to get away from them. Of course, I'd personally say that you shouldn't endanger surrounding family, friends etc, but that's just it... Evil Morty is symbolic of someone who has been stuck in this cycle of abuse for so long he doesn't fucking CARE if there's collateral damage, and why should he?

When no matter who you go to, and try to explain your case to, and they take the side of your abuser. When no matter where you go, your abuser is praised or adored, and it feels like only you are aware of how this CAN'T continue-- and anyone who IS sympathetic is telling you things like "Oh you have to be the bigger person, you can't stoop to their level, just think positive" or whatever.

Evil Morty says it himself "I'm only evil because I'm sick of him. If you've ever been sick of him, then you're evil, too." And I resonated so strongly with that line.

So what does he do? He gets the fuck out. He does the work, he gets to a point where he feels like he has the same pull, the same influence, and then he burns it all down just so he can get the fuck away. It's not meant to be emulated, but I really feel like you're supposed to, in some ways, root for him. Because it resonates with some part of you, more so if you've been where he's been, metaphorically.

And when we next see him, he's not trying to "win" or amass power, he really, TRULY, just wants to be left alone, but he's willing to defend himself if necessary. And I think that's beautiful.

There's so much I could say, I just adore that character so SO much. I don't mind calling him Evil Morty, it feels empowering honestly. I've been considered Evil, but those standards. I'd rather be Evil than Good.

[hoiststowline]

only you

cliffjumper x f!reader ao3

While there was always a chance of an unexpected arrival in your driveway, the culprit almost always being the same, it would be tonight that there would be zero anticipation of any guests. The night you had slipped away fast, having spent the late afternoon until evening at work, entirely exhausted as you barely shuffled across the floor to make it to your couch.

With the day's events, you were content enough to rest when a few sloppy knocks echoed at your front door. It startled you wildly, now wide awake and alert as you scramble to stand, nearly falling over your shoes. 

"y/n!"  It's a whine and sufficiently loud that it passes through the locked door. "I know you're here, I saw your car!"

The voice can only belong to one mech, but the slurred speech and tumultuous behavior do not match the one in question. On unsteady feet, you rush to the door, hastily flipping the lock before swinging it open, entirely appalled. "Cliff-" 

He's slumped, seemingly leaning most of his weight on the doorframe, because he jolts when the door moves. At your appearance, a wide smile breaks across his face, a hum of delight getting stuck in his throat. "y/n..." He purrs on unreliable pedes, shifting his weight back and forth. "I've been out here forever."

"You shouldn't be out here at all." You deadpan, looking just past his body to make sure no one was around to see such an unexplainable display. Looking back up at him, you see how he can’t support his weight, disoriented and heavy. "Are you drunk?" 

Cliffjumper reels back, looking down at you with a frown. "No, I'm not drunk." He pauses, a few seconds longer than normal, before continuing. "I want a kiss." 

"And I want you to go home." At your defiance, the mech growls, a buzz no longer adjacent to his words. The switch in his behavior only unnerves you that he is wasted, a circumstance you’ve never encountered him in before.

"This is your house, right?" He takes a step forward, forcing you to take one back, your balance nearly lost as you stumble across the tiled floor. He continues his absurd argument as he stoops to clear your doorway now standing over you in the foyer. "I am."

"You do not live here, Cliff." Your fingers curl around the doorknob, slamming the egress shut behind him, possibly a little louder than you intended. "Dude, how plastered are you?" 

Cliffjumper decides to ignore you completely, bending down to your level as he taps his dermas impatiently. "Kiss."

"I'm calling Ratchet." Any other night, you'd be partial to entertaining such a notion, but the idea of trying to keep him away while you were still trying to recover from the night was too overwhelming. Evidently, you'd found your patience was at zero, and though Cliffjumper was inebriated and not entirely aware he was adding to your agitation, he still was. 

What you were not banking on was for him to grab you once you had your back turned, metal arms winding around your waist as he hauls you off the floor. "y/n." He mumbles into your skin, kissing your shoulder up to your cheek, his entire frame hot to the touch. "Don't. He'll offline me."

"Put me down," You're trying to be adamant, a scowl on your face, but at your wriggling, he squeezes you tighter. Not enough to hurt, but quite enough that you had no chance of escaping by your force alone.

"What's wrong?" He asks, tilting his helm as he catches sight of your glassy eyes. Though intoxicated, he still had a sliver of his better judgment, able to tell you were not your usual self, even with being annoyed at him. "Y'alright?"

You want to shout, but come to the rapid conclusion it would do little to help the current situation. If anything, even though you didn't necessarily want to, it would be best to tolerate Cliffjumper's seemingly innocent wishes. Perhaps you could shift this to a route that would satisfy both of you. 

"I'm tired." You sigh, chin sitting glumly in your palm as your elbow rests on his forearm. "I was just about to go to sleep, I had a long day." 

At this, the mech behind you goes eerily silent. His grip loosens considerably, but still holds you taught, as if you would run away. "I'm sorry." He whispers words garbled marginally. "Okay, and maybe I'm a little drunk."

"Yeah. Maybe just a bit." A dry laugh, then you squirm in his arms until you can properly face him, a plea he grants immediately. "Why are you here, Cliff?"

From a mech that had the hardest time divulging his feelings, lest to you, in his current state, it tumbled out from those silver lips faster than you could blink. "I missed you," He hoists you just a bit higher, now level with his helm. "I always get lonely when you work a couple of days in a row." 

It would be a fair complaint when your schedule tended to run over a few days, you would opt to meet up with Cliffjumper at the end of the week rather than be poor company in the late hours after work. It was an agreement you assumed was fine until now, realizing that you had gone four days without physically seeing the mech. "I'm sorry," It still feels awkward in his grasp, gently tapping his arm to attempt to get yourself free. "You could have called,"

"That's not the same," Instead of doing what you wordlessly asked, he burrows deeper into your collarbone, chin defiantly resting on your shoulder. "You know it's not, y/n."

"You also have responsibilities too, Cliff." Giving in, your arms wind around his shoulders, fingers mindlessly doodling shapes on his back. "I love you, but you're too much sometimes."

Cliffjumper scoffs, his ex-vent tickling your exposed skin. "I am responsible." 

"That's not-" You laugh, head tipping backward at his misunderstanding. "I said you have responsibilities, not that you weren't responsible." 

"Oh." He offers you two languid blinks, displaying a pitiful effort that he did not understand what you meant. 

"But you also never showed up here drunk before." A palm cups his cheek, liking the way he leans some of his weight into your hold. "Aren't you full of surprises?"

His brow furrows, optics trained on your lips as if he was trying to understand what you were saying. "You aren't speaking English anymore."

"Okay," It was obvious Cliffjumper was starting to crash, swaying gently. "Put me down now," 

Somehow, he comprehends what that means, leaning forward to complete your request. He deposits you on the cold linoleum, your sock-clad feet doing little to protect against the chill the floor emits. "Y'know Ironhide?" He makes a scratchy noise, making grabby hands at you once more. "Did you know he has high grade?" 

"I do now," Dodging his servos, you round him and begin pushing at his back, gesturing him towards your couch. "Something tells me he doesn't know you took it." 

"I'm a dead bot." Eventually, he relents, moving into the room. "Will you tell y/n that I love her?" 

"I can send a message, sure." It's alarming how fast he's tumbling downhill, but there was nothing to compare it to. You've never been around any of the bots while they were inebriated, and even if you had, Cliffjumper would be a wholly different story. "Sit," 

Obliging, but he lowers himself the the floor instead of the sofa. "Your rug is sooo soft," 

"Fine, that's fine." You roll your eyes, grabbing a blanket off the recliner before shedding your jacket, and tossing it somewhere you don't care of at the moment. "I'm going to do something. You need to recharge." 

Sitting on the ground, he looks up at you with dimming optics. "Where are you going?"

"Don't worry about it." Walking away, you shuffle down the hall and retrieve your phone, quietly slipping into the bathroom to make a fast phone call. 

"Ah. So that's where he went." Ratchet was helpful, though Ironhide was heavily displeased. "He's fine, y/n, it's comparative to liquor in your terms." 

"Fair enough," Laughing, you push some stray hairs away from your face. "Just wanted to make sure. He's pretty tipsy." 

"When he sobers up, send him my way." You're pretty certain Ironhide was swearing in the background, but it remained unclear if he was drunk also, or angered about the stolen alcohol. "You can have fun with that. I ain't touching Cliffjumper when he's intoxicated, he's ten times more aggravating than usual." 

"I'm sure I will." You couldn't describe him as aggravating, more clingy, and unruly. "Thanks Ratch." 

After concluding the call, when you re-entered the living room, Cliff was aiming to fight sleep as his forehead kept smashing against the couch cushions before he bolted upright, more confused than ever. "Alright," You hum, flicking the light off before walking into the room, settling on the couch as Cliffjumper chatters happily. "Good night, Cliff."

He wastes little time, one arm wrapping over your waist as his helm rests just by your sternum. "Mhm...night, y/n." 

It's mildly humorous to think that Cliffjumper was hungover, a comical sulk on his face as he grumbles into your chest the next morning. His presence is heavy, wanting to be practically on top of you, but your control of the situation was quickly being lost. "I don't even remember coming here." He groans, voice muffled by your shirt. "Ironhide's gonna kill me." 

"You were so sweet last night," Lying on your side, cheek smushed up against a pillow that landed up where the cushion meets the armrest. "Why must you always antagonize him? Just leave him alone, Cliff. It's not that hard." 

Seemingly offended by your first statement, the mech pulls back slightly, glowering down at you. "I am pleasant." 

"Sometimes." Cliffjumper scoffs, rolling his optics before returning to his original spot, shrinking away from the light that filtered in through the open curtain. "I've got shit I need to do today Cliff, you can't hang out here." 

"y/n, you left me all week for your stupid job, and now you're kicking me out?" The plush metal of his lips moves across your skin, causing you to shiver. "I thought you were nicer than that." 

You blink thrice before your eyes catch the clock on the wall, realizing it is already a late start to the day. Though there was a slim chance to try and salvage it, you thought better than to try and rush around when you had your favorite person right here, who you missed dearly. He did show up drunk blubbering about how you unintentionally made him feel lonely, and the last thing you wanted was to ruin a perfectly good day.

"You're right." As if he wasn't used to hearing those words, he yanks his head back a second time, this time looking your way with soft features. "I'm sorry. I'm not kicking you out, I want you to stay. Really." You can't figure out if it's because you're being sincere, or because you changed your mind, but he nearly clocks you on the nose with how fast he dives, erupting you in a fit of laughter as he kisses all over your face. 

You fight to return the gesture, but he holds you down, eventually landing on your lips with enough fervor that you swear his voicebox hitched. "My y/n," Cliff murmurs, eventually tugging backward just enough to talk. "It's not like I can go back to base,"

"Ratchet does want to see you," A grander smile twitches onto your lips. "When you sober up," 

"As far as I'm concerned, everything is non-existent except for you." He nearly tackles you as your arms circle his neck, keeping his warm frame close as he envelops your body. 

[necrotic-nephilim]

How do you think bruce would react to a Robin pile situation?

oooh this is a fun thought. i think it depends *entirely* if you're working with a morally stable Bruce or a Bruce who's a little fucked up and dead dove-ish. somehow, i think it's actually more fun if it's a completely stable Bruce bc that adds so much more drama and issues if Bruce is deeply unsettled by the idea. if it was maybe just Jason and Dick or Jason and Tim dating that's sort of understandable. Bruce knows that while he may see them all as his sons (except Steph bc do know Robin pile will *always* include Steph for me and tbh Cass too as an honorary member. they're all going in the pile.) but he understands that doesn't mean they see each other as brothers. he respects the nuanced and complicated relationships scattered across all of the Batfam.

but if all of them are *dating*? or at the very least sleeping together? that raises a lot of logistical red flags. the most obvious one is the age gap of it all- at the biggest gap you have Damian and Dick who are an easy fifteen years apart, meeting when Damian is a kid. not to mention how many of them have tried to kill each other at some point. it shouldn't work and Bruce doesn't like that it does. Bruce has a history of wanting to control the relationships of the Batkids when he disapproves. and so he'd absolutely try to break them up. at first, he paints it purely as a logistical issue. saying it's smartest not to bring feelings into work and that this is dangerous. i think it's especially fun if this happens at a time when Bruce doesn't approve of Steph or Jason so that *also* plays into it, he doesn't want either of them near the ones he currently considers to be his family. he says he wants to protect them and wants to keep them safe. he tries to appeal to who he thinks would be more logical and listen to him the most. first Dick, and then when that doesn't work, Tim. and when neither of them listen, i *do* think Bruce would stoop to the low of trying to break them up by fabricating internal conflict between them, hoping to divide and conquer the weird polycule it's become.

while i don't think Bruce would be jealous in the sense he wants to be included, i *do* think he's wildly dislike the Robins having this close bond that makes them trust each other implicitly more than they trust Bruce. they will defer to each other before him and clearly keep things from him. he'd despise that. it's an inner circle he's not let in on and it makes him lose aspects of control over some of them, especially Damian who's the youngest and his son, who Bruce deserves the most control over. he would drive himself mad about it. at first for genuine reasons over the perceived fucked up nature of the relationship (even when each of them have confirmed that it is entirely consensual and they're happy) and to protect them. but he becomes so bitter over being ignored. they openly prioritize each other over him when the truth comes out because they see no point in hiding it. and i could definitely see Jason gloating about how he's back in the family whether Bruce likes it or not. Bruce would be beyond pissed about it. he's just never recovering. trying to stop them gets nowhere, even if he manages to cause some internal conflict.

eventually, Bruce would be forced to accept it for fear he would lose all of them. but he's *not* going to be happy about it and he keeps making side comments, hoping to get through to one of them eventually. it doesn't work, but he's definitely not going to stop trying. i also think on some level it would just disgust him a little bit in a visceral way, since they're his kids to him and he doesn't like to picture them in that way. esp when Jason or Steph lean heavily into PDA just to fuck with him. ass grabs, cuddling, sloppy kisses, the whole nine yards. Bruce will not have a moment of peace.

[sleepyslag]

I fear there's voter fraud happening on the rpf tourney we shouldn't be afraid to stoop to their level Phan has to win this thing :/

[nightingalestarchaser]

● Superbia

Pairings: Daemon x Fem!Twin Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Content Warnings: Incest, Heavy implications, Rich people being terrible, Cheating, Slight changes to the canon but let's face it, there's worse things happening in the world than me using this fictional world as my barbie dream house

A/N: So this is the second story I have posted on here, the first I've written for Daemon! Feedback is always appreciated, and I hope you enjoy ✨️ 

She can't breathe. 

He steals her breath every time and she hates it. He loves it, of course. Relishes in every opportunity to do it. Prick.

Not that a tiny part of her doesn't love it, albeit deep down. Like how she loves him and hates him, in equal measure. A perfect balance of deep love and deep hatred.

She had no choice but to love him. It is an inherent truth, rooted in her bones. They came into the world together, they have always been bound together. That was what started her hatred in the first place.

She could never be as she was, taken as an individual. No matter what she did, she and he would always be 'the twins' whether they liked it or not.

He liked it. He loved himself, so of course he would relish a replica. 

She hated it. She loved him, but never knew if he truly loved her for who she was, or just as an extension of himself.

Not that it mattered, they were taken as one. Two bodies, one soul. 

It was the most pronounced as children. Exasperated nannies would seek 'the twins' from their hiding spots. Their parents would discuss 'the twins'. Visiting Lords and Ladies would fuss and coo over 'the twins'. The only separation was 'the boy' and 'the girl', when talk of marriage reared its head.

There was some hope for separation as they grew older. They shared blood deeper than most, but that blood was split between two bodies. Bodies that began to become noticed.

His body was noticed for its power, its grace, its strength. It was desired, it was talked about around the seven kingdoms. He was named. They stopped being 'the twins.'

Her body was noticed for its use. How it could benefit others, never her. She was named, albeit under a veil. Princess. Your Grace. Sometimes she suspected that after so many years of being 'the twins', people had forgotten her name. 

He teased her with her name. Called her by it. Made sure only he used it. It sounded better coming from his lips anyway.

It didn't stop her frustration, merely cooled it for a time. He called her other names too, names that were not meant for use by them, with each other. 

She loved him so dearly in those moments. Even as children he would call her names he shouldn't. When they hid from a nanny, or a maester, giggling in dark corners. When she crept into his bed seeking comfort during a storm, or refuge from a nightmare. Those names soothed her, her name soothed her. Reminded her that he knew her, he saw her for who she was.

But they were not made for peace and harmony. When she loved him, she loved him fiercely. When she hated him, she did so with equal ferocity.

He did it on purpose, she knew it. The girl, the lady, would barely have a toe placed on the streets and he would be there. Sometimes sparring in the yard, showing off. Sometimes offering an arm for a guided tour. Always doing it to irritate her. He never cared for those girls, he simply used them in his games.

She refused to do the same. She would not stoop to his level. If she had wanted to, she could. Every Lord's son was keen to take her hand in a dance, compliment her beauty, invite her to their own castles in a pathetic attempt at chivalry.

He always told her she did not want chivalry. She did not deny it. 

To have a man simpering over her was the furthest thing from her desires. She did not want to be placed in another gilded cage to be shown off. He always found her when she hid. Not that she was ever hiding somewhere so elusive. It made her laugh when her father's guards would attempt to get her back inside. One glare would have them retreating. She knew it wasn't her they were afraid of, but she could dream.

He never forced her to go back, to rejoin the dismal parties. He found them just as tedious. They were meant to be the focus of every guest, put on display for every Lord to examine like a piece of meat. They stayed on the outside while they could, protecting each other.

There had been talk of marrying them to each other, especially with Viserys betrothed to the Arryn girl. But why just keep power when you can expand it?

They had the Vale secured, why not plant roots in The North? The Reach? Even Dorne?

Their fate is sealed and torn apart at once. A concerted effort is made to remove the twin image. Twins are two halves of the same person. Twins come together, they are an eternally united pair.

But they are not to be bound to each other eternally. They must be separated.

Guards are placed outside their doors. Maids sleep in her bedchamber. He is still granted freedoms she will never be allowed. She is trussed up, fussed at, preened and plucked. He is allowed to roam free.

The rare times she loves herself are when she is simply herself. Hair loose and flowing past her shoulders, a simple shift dress on, reading by her window and occasionally glancing down to the training yard.  

Hair tightly braided, boots hugging her thighs, the clouds surrounding her as she takes her dragon to the skies and feels the rush of the wind on her face.

She is not allowed those things anymore. She is not allowed to be anything but the perfect image of beauty and grace, trotted out in front of every Lord in the land. 

He at least has some choice. He freely rejects many eligible girls, though entertains those who he knows are a possibility for him in her eyes. The girls she thinks he could take, could steal her place in his bed, by his side, on his dragon. 

They are welcome to him, she thinks in those moments. They see the smile, the strength, the beauty, the perfect Prince. They don't see more and they don't want to see more. They are girls, simpering for a prince, she is a woman who yearns for a man.

Two can play at any game, and she finds it easy to take a seat at the table. She can catch any man's eye, give him a smile, touch his arm, laugh politely, make him feel like there's nobody else in the room. Make him believe he really has a chance.

When all the girls are sent back home, she doesn't rush to him. She lets him come to her, which he always does. 

He teases her with the names of every girl who'd ever looked at him, wondering which one he could possibly choose. He expounds on the virtues of the North, the Reach, even Dorne. He could be the dragon who conquered it, he teases.

She does not believe him, she knows he says such things to tease and irritate her, and she hates him for it but revels in her own superiority. He will always choose her, they are a pair.

What she doesn't expect is that someone else chooses her.

She had, naively, as loathe as she was to admit it, thought she had bought herself more time. Claimed that every man who desired her hand needed to be properly considered. She couldn't rush such an important decision. 

A decision that was never hers to begin with.

She did not choose her husband, her husband did not choose her. Her father and his father simply moved their pieces on the chessboard and fates were sealed.

He is not a bad man, her betrothed. By all accounts he is one of the better choices that could have been made. He is from a powerful house, he is handsome, strong, chivalrous. He is an excellent swordsman, a keen archer, he has an appreciation for music, art, and good wine, he even makes her genuinely laugh at times.

For anyone else, the perfect husband. A man who would take care of her, love her, give her beautiful children and a happy union. 

But all he would be to her was at best a companion, and at worst a vehicle for her worst impulses. She did not cry or scream or lash out in frustration when their betrothal was announced. She beamed, her smile lighting up her face. She held his hand, whispered things to him, played the role of the smitten bride-to-be.

He hated it, and she enjoyed his hatred. When the whispers emerged that she was to be betrothed, he started spending most nights outside the castle walls. She gave up waiting for him, refusing to be a pathetic damsel. One night, feeling particularly dissatisfied and bored, she stole away from her room. She was never afraid of maids or guards, they couldn't harm her.

If she was to be married, she wanted to know what to expect for the rest of her life. The guards outside her husband-to-be's door were easily lured away, and he was even more easily lured once she got inside his bedchamber.

The coupling satisfied her needs at a base level, but no more. She had hoped him being so receptive to her illicit visit would make him see she was not a timid girl waiting to be claimed, alas he was..adequate at best. They would have no problem producing children, but she was not willing to spend the rest of her life being forced to truly satisfy herself by her own hands. 

They were never less twins than the run up to her wedding. For the first time in her life she got a taste of autonomy, even as she was marched towards another man to keep her. She was still Princess, even her betrothed rarely used her name, but she felt the change.

She had thought that her twin would batten down on revenge, find some pretty little thing who would extend his power and be left sitting in her beautiful cage. Alas, his capacity to surprise her did not cease.

He created a name for himself on the Street of Silk, rumors abound that he had taken a whore as his mistress, what respectable Lord would allow his daughter, allow his name, to be attached to such a man?

Not that he cared, he had what he wanted. He could fight, fuck, and flout his defiance freely. 

She tried to forget about him, but how can you forget that which is part of your very soul? You cannot forget your heart,your blood,your flesh and bones. It is always there, with you.

She was held up as a beacon of shining morality. The model child. The perfect twin. A lady, through and through. She would marry the perfect young man, her children would inherit a great house, she would live a blessed existence.

He came to her, one night in the week before she was to be wed. He was waiting in her chambers, playing with a knife and lightly gesturing to her with it as she came into the room. She swatted it from his hands, strode to her bed. 

He knew where she had been, she didn't deny it. She had needs, and what better man to satisfy them than the man who was honor bound to just that?

That pushed him over the edge as she knew it would, delighting in the way they came together like animals, tearing each other apart.

Her wedding day was everything it should have been. The sun held in the sky, basking the city in warmth. She wore a beautiful dress, the crowds cheered and threw flowers at her feet. Her father beamed proudly as she took his arm. 

There were whispers of course, how tragic for the bride that her own twin would rather be out sullying his name than be there to witness his sister's most glorious moment. But the whispers became cheers as the Princess kissed her new husband, held his arm so proudly as they walked out of the Sept together, looking every inch the perfect couple. 

And now she can't breathe.

She had accepted that her wedding feast would be celebrated without the one person she cared about in attendance. Part of her had wanted him to storm in, cause a scene and revel in his worst impulses and another part had felt proud that he couldn't face her, that she was free to take the spotlight. 

But he never did things like she expected or wanted him to. He did indeed storm in, but he did not cause a scene in the way the worst part of her had hoped. He did not charge in atop a horse, high above everyone else. He did not swing a sword at the objectors, the whisperers. He did not rip open her dress, throw her on the table and claim her in front of everyone.

He held her gaze as he walked into the hall, never looking away from her as he slowly walked towards the head of the room, where their family and her new family were gathered. His hand would ghost over the pommel of his sword and move away again. As he walked up the steps to the long table she sat at, she held the perfect surprised expression, a hint of annoyance, a hint of curiosity.

He apologized for his interruption, his eyes never leaving hers. She felt her new husband watch her, reaching for her hand. She took it, her gaze locked on her other half. When he sat at the end of the table, she felt complete. 

He would not have her that night, but she would have him forever.

[kidcharlemagnex6]

Why Kyle Broflovski Shouldn't Be in a Relationship Just Yet.

During one my occasional musings about South Park, one question I asked myself was: why hasn't Kyle gotten a long-term relationship arc like Stan has? But then I thought about it and realized that one potential reason is that, when you really think about it, Kyle has some toxic personality traits that show he isn't actually relationship material. My explanation will be framed in the form of my opinions on three Kyle-based shippings that frequently crop up in the South Park fandom that wouldn't really work when you think about it. Those three shippings are Style, Kyndy, and Kybe.

First, I want to talk about the shipping between Kyle and Stan. My opinion on it is pretty much the same as others I've seen on here. First off, just because two people are best friends doesn't mean that they're relationship material with each other. Second, even if the two did have romantic feelings for each other, they probably wouldn't be very compatible with each other. Stan is well-meaning but reserved, preferring to listen and only provide his input when he's explicitly allowed. Kyle, on the other hand, is more extroverted but doesn't always express it in a healthy way. When you pay attention to some of Kyle's scenes, such as when he's talking about an "important" issue, he expresses his opinions so forcefully and, to be honest, condescending, that it feels like he's more interested in simply forcing his opinions onto anyone who tries to listen than actually having meaningful discussions. Not to mention, when Stan was going through his first major depressive spell, he was pretty quick to abandon his efforts to make him feel better because he "couldn't handle the negativity," which makes me feel that some toxic positivity might be included.

There also seems to be a small contingent of fans who want Wendy to leave Stan for Kyle. While it's true that they have some similarities, such as their intelligence and morality, those differences are surface level when you really examine them. As mentioned earlier, Stan is more of a listener than a conversationalist and that seems to be all Wendy is looking for. She really wants to be heard and taken seriously, and Stan is more than happy to indulge her if that's all she wants. Kyle, on the other hand, might start acting overbearing toward Wendy and refuse to take her seriously, especially if she disagrees with him on something, not to mention that if things get really heated between them, Kyle might even stoop to hitting Wendy while Stan would never do such a thing. Kyle might also get possessive of Wendy, especially when he thinks she might leave him for a different boy. Take for example the whole business with Brydon: Stan calmly told Wendy that he wouldn't stand in her way if she wanted to pursue a relationship with him, instead. Possessive? To an extent, but the way he went about it is a clear indicator that he genuinely cares about Wendy and just wants her to be happy. Kyle, on the other hand, might have become selfishly jealous and outright demanded that Wendy not talk to Brydon, which would just drive her away, anyway.

The last potential suitor of Kyle's that I want to talk about is Bebe. Ever since the episode, "Clubhouses," Bebe hasn't even expressed a passing interest in Kyle and went straight for Clyde. The way Bebe expressed her interest in Kyle, however, strongly implied to me that Bebe really only cared about the image of being in a relationship rather than the person she's dating. But if you pay attention to some of Bebe's later episodes, you'll notice some signs that Bebe wouldn't have been a good girlfriend to Kyle, anyway. The whole incident with the shoe store, in my opinion at least, is a pretty clear indicator of what Bebe's real priorities are regardless of her claims that she wants to be either a lawyer or marine biologist. Material possessions seem to be one of her primary concerns and the fact that she was willing to manipulate her "boyfriend" Clyde to get what she wanted shows that hurting other people's feelings isn't too big of a concern for her. Therefore, there's the very real possibility that if Kyle became Bebe's boyfriend, she would immediately start molding him into her little fashion accessory who only exists to give her gifts. Not to mention, the fears I expressed about Kyle's potential treatment of Wendy would also apply.

So now you might be asking, "Then who do you think Kyle would be a good match for?" To be honest, I don't think he should jump right into that. As you might have gathered from this post, Kyle, for all of his good qualities, still has too many toxic traits that will get in the way of forming a loving, committed relationship with someone. He might be smart and morally upstanding, but what he needs to work on is being respectful of other people's opinions and choices, not giving up so easily, and understanding that just because he can do something doesn't necessarily mean that he should. Once he does get those figured out, he should absolutely get his own long-term romance arc just like Stan and Wendy have.

'Nuff said.