#in fact it would make all sorts of sense if he didn't. spirits and the ancient elves they became are immortal and they don't die naturally

[lith-myathar]

.

[heathermason6060]

Daryl Dixon x f!Reader: Together Apart Ch.5

Warnings/Mentions: History of abuse, neglect, strong language, mentions of character death, alcohol and drug abuse, ptsd, shared trauma, reader is cold, angst, fluff, eventual smut, slowburn, angst

Summary: You and Daryl grow closer due to feeling out of place in Alexandria. Just when you think you have the old Daryl back, he leaves.

Notes: I think the chapter after this one will be the last chapter, and finally have some cheesy old fashion love making :D Sorry Daryl vanishes at the end tho ):

It never seemed to end for him. In front of everyone else he was silent, emotionless, an empty body on autopilot. But when you'd walk off into the trees to search for water, it always hit him, no matter how many times he'd thought he'd cried out all out and was done with it. 

He clung to you after her death like never before, constantly walking in your shadow and wordlessly begging for some sort of comfort, reassurance, anything. You did the best you could, which ended up being more than either of you expected. You seamlessly morphed into the familiar elder sister role, mirroring the ways you would comfort your bruised baby brother. 

He put a cigarette out on his hand the one time he went off by himself, and not following him was something you came to regret. 

“Daryl,” the whisper of your voice had him cringing, the sound too empathetic and full of concern, he had to fight to keep himself from cracking when your comfort washed over him. 

“I know… I'm not good with words, or shit like this.” You sighed, maintaining a quiet tone, low enough for the sound of rain and the crackle of fire to cover. 

Daryl remained silent as you spoke. He picked at the skin around his fingers, looking down at his hands in his lap, and the sight of your smaller hand lightly touching his wrist makes him jerk. 

“I can't take away your pain, God knows I'd kill every goddamn piece of shit alive to make you feel better.” Your voice turned shaky, and the urge to cry was becoming overwhelming for the both of you. “But... I can promise you, you'll never have to worry about losing me. I just want you to know, I'm that one thing you don't need to worry about. I always will be.” 

Daryl slowly inhaled through his stuffy nose and nodded, the noise dry and shaky, his eyes burning and unblinking from their gaze on your hand. 

“I know.” He finally spoke and nodded again, as if that would magically set it in stone. “Me too.”

Slipping back into your place in the group dynamic was unpleasant after being alone with Gabriel for that long. It wasn't just one person you had to make an effort for anymore, and deep down you despised it. It was almost comparable to going back to school after summer break. You had to play by the rules again, fit into their perfect perception or risk repercussions. 

The discovery of Eugenes lies was all but a surprise to you. You didn't have some wild sense of intuition, you were just a pessimistic person. Although you kept your opinions to yourself, you didn't predict the extent of how deep his lies had been. The cure was a given, obviously, but the fact he lied about being a scientist as well? Lied about the safe place in Washington too? It took everything you had in you not to cave his face in when you saw the look of disappointment on Daryl's face. That's another reason why you hated being in a group. People didn't deserve to be able to let you down, and sure as hell not the one person you gave a shit about. 

People love to parrot that same ‘it has to get worse before it can get better’ bullshit you'd been told by concerned and empathetic authority figures all throughout your childhood. Safe to say it had lost its meaning to you, even when Daryl tried to lift your spirits. 

Well, it sure got better for everyone else. 

You weren't alone in your suspicions about Aaron. For once Rick and you agreed on something, it was a bad idea to go to Alexandria. But the group convinced him to take a chance, that the rewards greatly outweigh the risks, and you watched with a disapproving glare as Aaron led you all past the gates. 

“I'm just going to ask you a few simple questions, get to know you. You don't mind if I record this, do you?” 

You had a feeling your answer wouldn't make any difference, no matter what you said. You shook your head as you watched Deanna turn her video camera on, the big black lens feeling like an intimidating pit waiting to swallow you up if you gave an answer she didn't like. She rounded the couch and sat down, a tight and professional smile on her lips. 

“Let's start with your name.”

You told her your name, trying to behave despite your stomach growling and the sudden awareness that you smelled and looked awful. 

“Where are you from,” She repeated your name. 

“Georgia. Up North.” 

“Did you work?”

“No.”

“What were you before the outbreak?” When you didn't answer, she elaborated. “Were you a student in school, staying at home, traveling…?”

“After high school I stayed home for a couple years. Took care of my mom.” 

“I understand you're close with Daryl, is that right?” 

You must've visibly reacted to that question, because even after you answered, she pressed for more information.

“Did you grow up together?”

“Kind of, we weren't really friends or anything. He lived nearby and I'd see him around.”

Deanna nodded as if she was your therapist listening to some deep-seated trauma. 

“Did you ask anyone else these questions?” You scratched the back of your arm, beginning to feel uncomfortable. 

“I ask everyone all kinds of questions. I want to get to know you all, it's not an interrogation. You don't need to answer any that you don't want to.”

She finally changed the subject to your relationship with Rick's group. Not that you were eager to talk about it, but at least she wasn't grilling you on Daryl anymore. 

“I've been here since before Rick came and took over. Back in Atlanta. Daryl and his brother Merle came to get me when it happened. I thought maybe they were having some bad trip or somethin'. Ran into my house yelling about dead folks coming back to life and eating people. If it wasn't for them, I'd probably be dead too, but, I think they mainly came to get me because they knew my mom had a stash of cigarettes and drugs.” You were chuckling as you spoke, not realizing you had given up so much information without her even asking. You instantly shut up, the amused smile leaving your face. 

“How do you get along with other members of your group?”

You cringed at the phrasing. They weren't your group, they were Daryl's people, you were just a temporary guest without a set time to leave. 

“Fine. Haven't heard any complaints. Have you?”

“No. But I have heard you don't work well with others.” 

You shrugged. 

“Do you want to be here?” The way she would use your name at the end of every few sentences was starting to get under your skin. 

“I'm kinda stuck with wherever Daryl wants to be.” 

Deanna ended the interview after a handful of other unimportant questions and you were allowed to leave, led to your new house by one of her son's. 

You took the longest and hottest shower of your life, only getting out when Abraham started pounding on the door. It brought back that same feeling of anxiety you'd get when your mother would bang on your locked door in a fit of anger. You nearly ran him over when you burst out of the bathroom, making him drop his change of clothes and call out a disgruntled complaint. 

“Who the hell is this?” 

Daryl looked up from his bag to see you looking down at him, a teasing grin on your fresh face. The image of you being all cleaned up had him momentarily stunned. It had been a while since either of you had seen each other clean like that. 

“Daryl? No way, where's your grease?” You toyed with his damp hair before sitting next to him on the floor near the fireplace, where he'd decided to sleep for the night. 

“Nah, I don't know you. Ya don't smell like bloody rabbits.” He retorted, leaning in to dramatically sniff at you. “The hell is that? Shampoo?”

“Uh, it's shampoo, conditioner, body wash, lotion, and toothpaste.” You replied, giving an exaggerated smile to show your clean teeth. 

You shared a few chuckles and jokes as the rest of the group cleaned up and prepared for bed. Even though you couldn't stand the place or the new people in it, the prospect of having your own room with an actual bed had you buzzing with excitement. 

Sleeping next to Daryl wasn't anything out of the ordinary for you. It was an arrangement that happened more nights than not. But sleeping next to Daryl in a safe house, wrapped in clean clothes, soft blankets, and not even the slightest whiff of the outdoors? It was overwhelming. 

You turned on your side to face him, watching as he stared up at the ceiling, the dark room filled with the familiar ambiance of gentle snoring and breathing. Daryl always slept after everyone else, and that night was no exception. 

Despite your instincts telling you not to, you wiggled on the blanket to move closer to him, nuzzling your face in his nearly dry hair, closing your eyes as you inhaled his clean scent. 

He stiffened at first, an automatic reaction which soon faded and he relaxed, tilting his head until his cheek rested against your forehead. He could barely feel the warm tickle of your breath under his jaw, the feeling soliciting a subliminal relaxation. His eyes closed then, and he listened to the barely audible whistle of your nose. He listened as the whistle got softer, slower, and nearly disappeared altogether as you fell asleep. 

Daryl made sure to untangle himself from you the next morning, before anyone else had the chance to wake up and witness your private bond. No one deserved to see that part of him or you, it was intended for the two of you alone, something deeper and more personal than anyone would understand. 

Adjusting to being around people was a challenge that went all the way back to school. Even in Atlanta you struggled with it, going from being a hermit with your sick mother to an adult in a large group of people, it felt like your first day of school all over again. 

That was all nothing compared to being in Alexandria. Not only were you surrounded by people that annoyed you, but another larger group of people you knew absolutely nothing about. 

They bestowed heavy responsibilities on you as well. It wasn't just scraping by washing clothes and hunting, it was work. Hard work. Wall building, gardening, work inside Alexandria, work outside their walls, near constant supply runs, and cooking. 

Parties. Pasta for dinner. A seemingly limitless flow of sparkling amber champagne. Some kid was walking their fucking pet dog on the sidewalk. 

It felt insulting. Their first impression on you firmly implemented your personal views towards them. Spoiled, weak, wearing faces of false persona, wives chittering like hens with warm knowing smirks. Husbands and men who always smiled like the sun, going out of their way to do things they considered nice for you, then putting on a somber and humble face if anyone had praised their hard work, dedication, and sacrifices. Sacrifices that basically ensued going to the grocery store. 

You hated it. You hated them, you hated their kids, you hated their houses that looked like mansions to you, and you hated the way Rick's group treated it like they'd walked through the bright pearly gates and not the glorified pretentious prison that it was. 

To your relief Daryl didn't quite like it either. 

“They invited us to what?” You didn't believe him when he said it to you as he stared around your new room. 

“Said it was a welcoming party.” He grunted, fingers picking at the edges of a tacky poster of a puppy on the wall. 

“A party? What do you mean a party?” 

“Dunno.” He sighed, throwing his hands up in muted exasperation. “S’jus what she said.” She being Deanna, the same woman who took away your guns, which yours had grown to be quite the impressive collection. But you being your hardened and sneaky self, you'd managed to smuggle two of your handguns into your room. Daryl got to keep his crossbow, of course, and you your own recurve bow, it was the bare minimum aside from your knives, which the others were allowed to keep as well. Sadly, you'd end up breaking that bow a few days later by slinging it at Pete's head.

“And everyone's going?” You pressed on from your seat on the bedroom dresser. 

“Dunno. Goddamn, told you what she told me, you know s’much as I do.” 

You went to the party. Of fucking course you would, they had full on meals with all the food groups, they had alcohol, they had little appetizers and finger foods you'd only ever seen on tv and in magazines, you'd be an idiot not to. The only con was the house was stuffed with people. You could barely make it two steps without bumping into a new face. 

You didn't stay long at all, leaving the second your stomach felt full, and you had a decent buzz going on. You snuck out the back door and snagged the half empty bottle of champagne on your way out. 

“Ya went?” Daryl was surprised to see you walking down the sidewalk in new clothes. The black button up hung a little loose on you, the sleeves bunched up around your elbows, the hem falling all the way past your ass. 

“I may not like those people, but they make some damn good casserole.” You snickered, popping out the metal reusable cork and taking a deep drink. 

Daryl grabbed the bottle from your outstretched hand and downed nearly the whole damn thing in three gulps. 

“Yeah yeah. Go on, help yourself.” 

He gave a weak grin at your playful scoff before handing the bottle back to you. 

“You remember what I said back in Atlanta.”

You looked to your side at Daryl as the two of you walked down the dimly lit path back to your new residence. “Gotta be more specific.” 

“Bout takin’ their shit an’ hauling ass outta there.” 

“Yeah. One of my biggest regrets is talking you out of it.” You sighed, your tone no longer playful and lighthearted. “We could be all the way across the country by now. Would still have Merle bitching out ears off and ranting about some racist conspiracy theory.” 

Daryl suddenly chuckled. “You ‘member that time he was tryin’ to come up with slurs for walkers?” His amused grin spread further when you erupted into laughter at the memory. “What was it he called ‘em? Rotters? Pus-suckers?”

“Yeah, those were some of the tamer ones.” At the time you'd been annoyed by Merle's constant need to remind you that the three of you were better and more superior than anything and anyone around you, but all this time without him and his humorous outlook on life, you missed it. You even missed when he'd belittle you, at the end of the day he still was sexist, despite the obvious care he held for you. 

“Why'd you ask though?” 

“Dunno.”

“Daryl.”

“Everyone's safe now, ain't gotta worry about ‘em anymore.” 

You kept quiet as he fought for the words to convey his thoughts. It was obvious he felt like the odd man out again, it was impossible not to, in a place as nice as Alexandria. The rest of the group had effortlessly slipped into their places in the new environment, if you were an onlooker, it would look as if time had frozen in place for the small neighborhood and its citizens. 

But Daryl, and you, it wasn't easy like that. You never had a normal life like this, so you had no default state to regress to. Daryl had only changed a little since the start, and you hadn't changed much at all. Your skin felt like it was burning with electricity at the insinuation in his words. 

“I'll go wherever you go, you know that.” You nodded firmly. “Just say the word.”

He ended up going to Carol with his vague plan, and then Rick. You don't know what they said to him, but the next morning he told you he wanted to give it a few days before he made his decision.

You should've just made the decision for him. You should have grabbed your stuff, packed your bags, and stole one of their cars and left. Because a few days turned into a hell of a lot longer. 

It wasn't all bad, the two of you grew even closer due to his feelings of being an outcast once again surfacing. It was the same for you, which caused you to cling onto him tighter than before. You slept on the same ratty mattress in your room, sometimes cuddling, but most of the time on separate ends.

You watched more people die around you, which was something you'd become bitterly accustomed to. Aiden, one of Deanna’s sons, and Noah, who you'd never spoken to before. Rick made some trouble for himself getting wrapped up in the wife of the town surgeon, and all hell broke loose after that. Pete lost his shit and accidentally killed Deanna's husband, and Rick killed Pete. As if there hadn't been enough blood shed, a hoard of walkers became an issue just as things started to calm down. 

You didn't like the role that'd been assigned to you. You were being seen and tasked as a protector, sent out by Rick with Abraham and a handful of others to build strategic walls for his master plan of relocating the hoard. 

Another thing you didn't like was the way people's views towards you changed. People who once never even spared you a second thought were speaking to you, making an effort to get to know you, and it was just as unsettling as that time Rick invited you over for dinner. 

“Too pretty to be so sad all the time.” Abraham had said once as you dug a hole for the wooden pillar. 

“I'm not sad.” You muttered, stepping back as three men lifted the wood into the hole. You poured in the instant concrete and took your gloves off to get a drink of water.

“So you just always have that sour look on your face then, huh?” 

“Only when I'm around people I don't know.” Or like, you thought to yourself. 

“I've known you for how long now? Course you know me. And Sasha, and Rosita, and-”

“You're people I'm stuck with. Doesn't mean I know you.” 

“Tsh.” He snorted, folding his massive arms across his equally massive chest. “So you're just a bitch then?” 

“Yeah.” 

One would think that conversation would've been enough to get the point across. No, sadly, it only made things worse. Rick ended up giving you jobs with more people, and you quickly caught onto the convenient way Daryl was almost never in those assigned groups. 

Rick was in charge, that was undebatable, but he wasn't in charge of your free will. You did your work as he asked, most of the time faster than expected, and spent every second of your free time with Daryl, even if it meant pulling four different jobs a day. 

It worked like that for a while, and eventually you did begin to change. Not you exactly, moreso your attitude had changed. You became less closed off, no longer baring teeth and claws as a constant warning. You actually enjoyed spending time with Abraham, as he was one of the only people that called you out for being shitty, he wasn't scared of your mean mug or the harsh bite of your words. It wasn't just Abraham you started to like. Maggie, Carol, Rosita, Michonne, and sometimes Tara, the small group shifted from strangers to acquaintances, some would call you their friend. They'd eventually worn down your hard exterior and you experimented a little with conversation and generosity. Carol was the exception, it was you who had to pursue her. Trying to become genuine friends with her was hard, it made you realize how hard everyone else had been trying with you. 

You even started decorating your room a bit. Nothing fancy, just a few homemade shelves and displays for your numerous weapons. You made a special one above your futon, the only object it held was the small gold tinted shell of a used bullet. 

All good things must come to an end. 

You sat alone in your shared room for the third night in a row, silent on your lumpy mattress, your eyes burning in effort to hold back tears. 

He hadn't even told you he was leaving. 

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @my1fx @jinx-nanami

[aventurine83]

The Tempest

William James Moriarty x Reader

"Then all afire with me: the king's son, Ferdinand, with hair up-staring, ーthen like reeds, not hair,ーwas the first man that leap'd; cried, 'Hell is empty, and all the devils are here.'" William leant back in his armchair, scarlet eye blinking beneath his beautiful blond eyelashes as he gazed into empty space. Over his other eye was a dark black eyepatch.

You simply hummed as you looked into the book you held, of Shakespeare's plays. You remembered only so many quotes from it. William had no need for a book, he could recite all 40 of Shakespeare's plays from memory. Him reciting thus to you helped you get through the book quickly and in a more joyous way. Hearing your husband speak was something that gave you much mirth, especially when you were both seated across each other in comfortable armchairs in front of the fireplace in the midst of a dreary winter in your small home at Brighton.

"I feel bad for Ariel." you commented. "Has to do his master's bidding."

William chuckled softly and dryly on hearing your words. "I doubt Ariel is completely blameless." he uttered as he propped one leg over the other. William had a most adorable and polite way of seating himself, it never failed to make you swoon and want to wrap him in a hug.

"Thats true." you replied, closing your book, yawning.

"Are you tired? We may stop here for today if that is your wish." William smiled, his scarlet gaze homing in on yours.

"That would be much appreciated." you smiled at him, noting the soft expression he held. William had always had a solemn, distant expression before, so seeing him thus softened brought a sort of happiness to your heart. "Sherlock didn't barge in tonight. Odd, considering he does so every single night taking every advantage of the fact he lives next door." you sighed.

William chuckled heartily. "I would have appreciated had Sherly shown himself. I do have a few things that I need to talk to him about." he hummed softly, his voice as soft and lovely as ever, decorated with his signature British accent.

"We should get to bed, Liam." you placed your hand on the man's arm, rubbing it gently. "You have an early day tomorrow."

"Indeed." William nodded gently, his scarlet eye reminiscient of either the beauty of sunsets or the glistening crimson of blood freshly smeared on the sharpened tip of a blade. "Were I but wretched, my love." he sighed, placing his hand on your cheek. "It pains me to see your attentions gone to work on so odious a man as myself, on such vulgar a connexion, as has hardly been since the notion of the propriety of society, and that of the worth of life, came into being." his tone was soft, his eyes sorrowful, such a broken man he was, yet so beautiful.

"William..." you could hardly place your words right, you had little idea of what to say, and you wished for him to finish his thought as well.

"For years have my actions led me, in desperation for a result, caused me to sin twice and twice again." William uttered, his expression hardening. "For years, have these palms been seeped through with a scarlet as irremovable as the stains of ink on a canvas pure white, untainted; marred with blotches so painfully obvious as would most likely repulse any whose misfortune beget them gaze upon it, and scruple through its length and width desperately so as to propagate the assemblage of a search of true purpose, true affability, even a sense of alacrity within but finding nothing."

You gently tugged at William's eyepatch, an action that caused him to flinch before he tried to relax ultimately under your observance. You removed it carefully, revealing a scar that marred his skin, and a discoloured eye that could see no longer. You gently kissed the scar, your hand resting on William's cheek. "There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple: If the ill spirit have so fair a house, good things will strive to dwell with't." you spoke softly. Lines from the Tempest, offered to Ferdinand by Miranda.

William's gaze immediately softened, his heart warm and full, recognizing the lines the moment they slipped past your mouth. He pulled you closer by the waist, a gentle, small smile tugging at his lips. "You render me speechless, you render me most powerless and above all, a fool to your whims." he kissed your lips gently. "Oh sweet, fair Miranda of mine." he brought you down onto his lap, kissing your neck. "My darling mistress."

[lilia-calderus-pet-goat]

This is a very sleep deprived thought—and I don't actually believe it, per se—but.

I've seen a lot of people who are deeply unsatisfied with the retcon of it being Agatha that bound Jen's magic. Mainly, because it felt like shoe-honing. Especially since Agatha made such a point about going out of her way to not kill Jen despite hating her, because she respected her work too much.

I think many interesting discussions can be had about this. I've talked about this before—the fact that Jen's character felt sort of neglected in the finale, and the fact a lot of people struggled to connect with her prior to rewatches. (I myself didn't have this problem, but still, my criticisms are still of the same nature-)

So anyway, Agatha probably chose to bind Jen to keep her out of the way, not realising the weight of that, the intersectionality—perhaps not caring about the suggesting very much at all. Because, you're a midwife, Jen. You can still do good. You will do good, just out of my way. And I truly do believe this is how it went.

But what if Agatha hadn't been the one to bind her? What if, in a brief moment of clarity, Agatha locked in to get everyone out? Her movements are always supposed to be calculated, so is carelessness really in her repertoire?

Maybe, just maybe, she heard Jen say that, “I'll be damned if I let one of you two idiots die,” and that triggered her. Maybe because of pride—god knows she was overwhelmed before the final trial and all her walls had come right back up. But the same didn't apply to Jennifer. She had actually changed. Jen had actually re-discovered her worth. She'd remembered who she was, power or not. She was someone Agatha respected in spite of the resentment. Someome who heals, nurtures, helps, does good. Not the vain, surface-level, self-serving fraud—who had previously been on a dark path too similar to Agatha's own, so close to complete cynicism. Lilia had saved Jen from that path and oushed her to be the path ahead. The Obstacles? Agatha.

And Agatha won't accept Jen's help—not after what happened to Alice, which to Agatha's & Billy's eyes alike stands as evidence of the fact she is a monster. She won't even accept to acknowledge her own character development, as a mere episode ago she jumped in front of a sword to save Lilia. She won't, above all, acknowledge that Jen has grown to care about her. Instead, she will do everything tomake that kdea crumble. She will destroy it.

All she needs to do is shape the narrative Billy truly thinks is true, and so it can become the truth. Billy, who created the condition in which it was possible for Alice to break her generational curse. Who found the spirits of Evanora and Nicky alike. All the trials were his limited understanding of the coven & of witch folk. (Jen's was right out of her vision board, she looked like one of her clients—nothing like the rootworker midwife we know she used to be. Alice's is in the seventies, which mathematically makes no sense with her age as she would have been born in the eighties to be the age she is on 2025—but Billy based everything about her trial on Lorna, because that's what he was familiar with. Agatha's mind he couldn't read—all he knew about her was that something happened to her son. So he puts a grown woman in children's clothing, to force therapy on her—and she regresses into the hurt little girl she was at the stake. Lilia, whose mind is the loudest & most easily accessible to Billy, had the most personalised trial, but even then, it latches onto the witch stereotypes that she so desperately hates. All of those do help the girls—minus Agatha—but still don't fully represent them. As for the green witch trial, well, it took him a while to cook it up, because he just found out Rio is death. Anyway, I digress—) My point being, if you can shape Billy's understanding of a situation, you can have some power over what happens. (One trial for each witch, the public transport system, etc.)

Would it be such an impossible stretch to say Agatha painted herself as the villain once more, embracing the part presented to her, the oart most familiar, the oart she knows best to simultaneously reject Jen's offered sisterhood/peace/altruism AND make sure the road gave Jen her powers back? She gets Jen out of the way—go do good again, just out of my way—because she's hellbent on the narrative that Agatha Harkness can't be anything but a covenless witch.

And what's the next thing she does, after assuring Billy that the road took Jen to safety after giving her what she wants?

She tries to get what she wants, because she knows Billy is in no real danger in his own road. Give me a little power-boost, dungeon master, get me out of here, come on. But he doesn't trust her. And if he doesn't trust her—she can't possibly convince him to willingly hand himself over to Rio.

So she gives him what he needs, what he wants from the road. She guides him—cradles his head and helps him fight the guilt, she helps him save Tommy. The second abomination that Lady Death was trying to prevent has already been re-born, but Rio's too busy playing mother-knows-best in suburbia on Agatha's rooftop.

So Agatha gets Billy out, accepts that, “sometimes boys die,” that death herself can't be blamed for Nicky—she forgives Rio—and starts to mourn herself. She's gotten Jen & Billy out. She can stay here and die the villain. But the road presents her with the opportunity to live—from death, life—(she also realises right then that Nicky was also Rio's, btw)—and she makes her dramatic exit. The rest is... A different post.

[moldy-flowers]

UCHIHA CLAN HEADCANON THAT THEY'RE ALL SECRETLY YAPPERS.

Okay hear me out hear me out hear me out. Sasuke, is not a yapper, bc he's internalised all his yapping‼️ He doesn't know the Uchiha ways of the yap!!

Okay so like, when the children are like children, they're the ultimate yappers. But not near people they don't know. Imagine like Itachi coming home and Sasuke sprinting to the door yelling "Ni-San" repeatedly while jumping up and down. You can see it, cant you? BECAUSE HES A YAPPER!!

AND WHEN THEY AND WHEN THEY GROW UP THEY LIKE PICK A PERSON TO YAP OFF TOO AND LIKE THATS THAT PERSON FOR LIFE ITS LIKE SOULMATES SORT OF⁉️⁉️⁉️

Itachi was never a yapper and that's why Fugaku was like "Dont turn out like Itachi..." to Sasuke bc Itachi never conformed to the true Uchiha way!! They knew there was something wrong w him day one!!!

You know that scene where Sasuke to Mikoto is like "Does father care more about Itachi than me?? :(" and Mikoto tells him that actually Fugaku talks about Sasuke all the time behind closed doors? WELL IT MAKES SENSE NOW BC BC WHEN THE UCHIHA GROW UP THEY ONLY YAP TO THE PERSON THEY ARE CLOSEST TO I.E. MIKOTO‼️‼️ FUGAKU YAPS ALL THE TIME TO MIKOTO AND MIKOTO TO HIM‼️‼️

This also works for Shisui bc if we assume Shisuis parents died when he was young, Shisui never had anyone to raise him properly apart from the clan, and he wasn't really apart of their family's. Not to mention he was really highly praised and his goofy silly guy personality was brushed off bc Holy crap where the fuck did he go IS HE BEHIND ME WTF HOW??? HES LIKE 8!!???? WHAT THE SHIT‼️‼️‼️⁉️⁉️⁉️ So Shisui is at the age where he'd stop being a yapper but he's too far gone he's just a goof now and we love him for that.

Also, if we look at our beloved boy Izuna!! He's kind of a goober but he doesn't get the chance to goob around with everyone cause they're in war :(( He's a prankster bc he wants to lift up everyones spirits but when he's not w/ his family hes a snarky bitch (We love him for that!! We all cheer in unison)

Madara, we all saw his friendship with Hashirama, that boy was a yapper‼️ But the one he chose to yap to was Hashirama so most of the time he listens to Izuna yapping and stays quiet bc hashi is the enemy :((

Now our little freaky boy Obito!! He had no proper teacher of the Uchiha ways (pffft he doesn't even know the ways of the Uchiha yap? He's a lost cause just ignore him :// ) and he's lonely to he just yaps and yaps and yaps to anybody with an ear. But then he met Madara and was deyapped. He talks to himself though so just think that counts as a little yap.

Now onto the star of the show the silly little loser Sasuke :33 (Our boy!! our boy!! We all scream clap and cry) When everyone died he was too sad and scared and paranoid and traumatized to yap if anybody would have actually listened. And hc that he desperately clings into anything Uchiha bc he wants to be as close to his family as possible. And everybody he knew was stone cold, or calm and collected and kind to those they were close to. So he too would be stone cold and calm and collected!!! It wasn't too difficult to close himself off because he didn't have any friends in the first place. But did you notice how that when he shows Fugaku his grades and they're all straight A+'s, and in the show we learn they are also graded on their ability to work with others, and in Naruto: the last we see Naruto Sasuke and Sakura sitting at the same table!? Using our heads and our amazing smarts we, together as a team can deduce this means that Sasuke actually worked with a group and worked so well with them that it was deemed an A+ (DESPITE THE FACT HE WAS REALLY ANTI-SOCIAL!? I COULD NEVER) So this means that at a table Sasuke worked with his future team very well despite the fact their personalitys clashed so much, Sakura a nervous wreck which is something Sasuke outwardly hates, and Naruto, a prankster who totally has ADHD and will not focus on anything, and Sasuke at the time was pretty compassionate despite being a little bratty!! They worked together!! (this could also be when Sakura developed a crush on Sasuke!! And Naruto on Sakura!!! Do you see!?? My Uchiha yapping agenda is so canon!!!) I went on a little bit of a rant there BUT we also see at the beginning of the manga that Sasuke actually scored pretty low on his ability to work with others!! He was trying to be more like his dead clan by being stoic and closed off!! He doesnt know they were secretly sensitive losers!! (Whenever they're alone with their partner they're immediately clingy and become the most touch starved people in existence and cling to eachother like if they let go they'll suffocate and die)

Omg fic where for an amount of time Naruto Sasuke and Sakura have a group project that extends before and after the massacre and during it we see Sasuke go from Reluctantly a ball of Sunshine and energy to really depressed and jittery to cold hearted and stoic!!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE SOMEOME WRITE IT FOR ME PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

And so like, it's in the Uchiha genes to yap!! But Sasukes yaps have been internalised and his first like really long time in Konoha he has to relearn how to have conversations with people bc he just yaps in his head and forgets to respond. Everyone thinks Sasuke is soooo intimidating bc he just stands there and glares (He doesn't realise he's glaring) at you and makes you feel really really stupid but he's actually just wondering if he can adopt a fluffy pink cat bc he saw Sakura earlier and wants to know if cats can be pink too. Now he's wondering if he breeds the cats correctly if he could get a rainbow cat. Oh what did you say? SHIT uhmm just roll eyes and walk away roll eyes and walk away. Kiba has a theory that Sasuke is plotting something (He's plotting gay coloured cats) Unfortunately he's so quiet mysterious guy coded that he never truly learns to let out his inner yaps. But when he's home alone or w/ a partner he's comfortable with (Whoever you ship him with) He happily listens or when it's quiet he hums long forgotten lullabys that his mother used to sing. Although im not letting go of my touch starved clingy Sasuke agenda he hums while hugging with a vice grip. And also when Sarada was little he would sing songs to her go help her sleep (Sasuke singing somewhere over the rainbow anyone?? :33)

HAVE YOU BEEN CONVINCED BY MY YAPPER UCHIHA AGENDA!?!?!?!?!?!? HAVE YOU BEEN INFECTED BY THE YAPPER VIRUS YET!????

[arvandus]

barbatos headcanons sfw or nsfw? totally fine if not <3 i love anything you write for barbatos <3

Ohhhh man, so many headcanons considering how much space he takes up in my brain. Most of it centers around relationships and, by proxy, NSFW stuff. It ties into what I recall of canon material, but take it with a grain of salt since I haven't finished the OG game yet (I'm on lesson 42 right now). I'm just going to put SOME of them since I have so many. Also, some of these will probably sound more like character analysis than headcanons.

WARNING: MINORS AND AGELSS BLOGS DNI; THIS POST CONTAINS 18+ CONTENT. DO NOT, I REPEAT DO NOT FOLLOW ME!

My Humble Barbatos Thoughts:

General stuff (SFW):

He smells like warm bread and spices due to all the baking/cooking he does and the tea he grows and brews.

When Asmo painted his and Diavolo's nails to match the brothers (per Diavolo's request), Barbatos let Diavolo choose his nail color for him.

His biggest worry is the mistakes of his past coming back to haunt him by inadvertently impacting Diavolo's reputation by association. If Barbatos's past sins became public knowledge, he would worry about how the Devildom might view him and how that would impact Diavolo.

Because of how incredibly old he is, and the way he seemed to come into Sol's life when he was a teenager (if I recall correctly?), and came into Diavolo's life when he was also young, I see his relationships with them as almost parental/guardian (at least initially).

Which means he probably doesn't really have any truly balanced/equal relationships with those around him, which can cause him to be somewhat isolated. He's there for others, but he's not very willing to let others reciprocate. He believes he needs to handle all of his troubles/worries on his own.

I can see his dynamic with Diavolo evolving into a more equal/balanced friendship over time, the parental/guardian dynamic falling away as he let's go of his protective role. I think this has already happened with Sol, since they seem more friends/equals than father/son (e.g., he allows Sol to have power over him not just in pact, but also with his grimoire); Diavolo is harder because Barbatos still sees the young prince as his responsibility (plus Dia is always trying to sneak out like a teenager ����).

Barbatos has a LOT of talents and interests; he may be very proper and well-mannered, but he's been around for a LONG time. Canon things we've learned about him so far: he likes heavy metal music, he likes classical music, he is great at ice skating, fangol, and chess; he kills it at cross-dressing and dancing... he's a very diverse individual which tells me he did and tried probably literally everything when he was younger.

He's 10/10 middle-aged adult energy now. He's done everything, experimented with all the things, and now he just wants stability. He's still got some spunk to him and will engage in fun activities (especially for the sake of others), but if he had his way, I think he'd want to relax with his tea, his gardens, and his walks under the stars.

Relationship/Intimacy (including NSFW):

He had plenty of lovers earlier on in his life, but he didn't exactly have a lot of emotional intimacy. He's always been the oldest demon, and when he was younger, that simple fact made him arrogant and he saw himself as always being above others. It drove an invisible wedge between himself and those around him.

He's a greed demon, so I imagine that in the beginning he was more emotionally charged and selfishly motivated.

He has literally tried every kink under the sun moon. Young Barbatos was kinkier, hornier, meaner (due to his arrogance), and likely was not a very healthy individual to engage in relations with. Probably had lots of red flags. Was very free-spirited (our boy was hopping timelines will-nilly);

Young Barb had fuckboi energy, but in a quiet, intelligent sort of way (if that makes sense). He was hard to resist, yet very much untouchable.

As time passed, he mellowed out but also became more reserved. This made emotional intimacy even harder, and sexual escapades grew boring after a while.

Young Barbatos certainly got around, but he only truly fell in love once. But he had to leave that person behind when he made the decision to go back and fix his mistakes. He still thinks about them to this day.

In the past, when he saw the consequences of his recklessness and how it had impacted those he cared about (Dia, Sol) he had a change of heart and devoted himself to fixing his mistakes and to be in service of others before himself.

It may seem endearing and like excellent character growth; which it is, to a point. But it's also reactionary to the harm he caused. Barbatos sees his passions and desires as something toxic, something negative. As such, he sees them as being something that needs to be bottled up and controlled at all times.

Which makes it so much harder to fall in love, and when he does fall in love, it will scare him, because he feels that pull of selfishness, of wanting purely for the sake of wanting it. He has yet to figure out how to find balance within himself (i.e., trust himself), to allow himself to want without letting it consume him, and to give without self-deprivation.

Monogamous or poly? I could see it going either way, although I see him leaning more towards monogamous. It's the greed and also how he isolates himself; letting in one person would be hard, letting in more than one, especially to the same extent, would be nearly impossible. He's a VERY private person.

But poly can also work as long as its established that the relationship is exclusive between him and his partners (no open relationships/flings with outsiders). Poly might also be nice for him in that he can take comfort in knowing that his partners are there for each other when his work keeps him away from them (i.e., he'd hate for his monogamous partner to be alone all the time).

Either way, mono or poly, Barbatos does not like to share. It's the greed in him. They're his, and no one else's.

Barbatos would be very VERY resistant to entering a relationship in the present time mainly because he's dedicated himself to Diavolo. He knows his partner would not be able to be his top priority no matter how much he loves them, and not many people would be okay with that.

Barbatos used to be very sexually promiscuous in his younger years, but now he's completely closed off simply because has a reputation to protect for Diavolo. He doesn't want any jilted lovers/ex-lovers to try to cause trouble for the Prince of the Devildom simply to get back at Barbatos. Also, the man has no time for shenanigans.

If someone does manage to worm their way into his heart, it would be very slowly, over many years without him noticing until he suddenly realizes one day that he'd be lost without them. It'd be jarring for him, to say the least.

Barbatos is canonically VERY romantic. He's a giver, and his love language is acts of service. That includes not only errands/duties/chores/meals/dates, but also physical acts of service (massages, orgasms, etc.).

Loves LOVES to give oral. He loves making his lover(s) putty in his hands (think service dom).

Lots of kissing. So so much kissing. He's gonna worship every inch with his mouth and tongue.

Definitely does have a kinky side, but it only comes out to play with someone he really REALLY trusts.

He'd be down for nearly everything. Bondage, anal, edging, etc. He can even be a mean dom if you ask him really nicely (he needs to believe you REALLY want it before he lets that old side of himself come out to play); however, the only things I can see him having a hard no on would be anything in a public space where there's a chance of being seen/caught (remember he's worried about reputation) and hard degradation via name-calling (sorry, I just can't picture it - he'd respect his partner too much regardless of whatever nasty kinky stuff they do together).

Will most definitely use his tail on himself and his partner(s).

If his lover is human, he'd be constantly keeping himself (and his strength) in check out of fear of hurting them.

He'd be big on consent. He's a master at reading body language; the slightest hint of distress and he's stopping everything immediately. He's not one to lose himself in the moment.

However, this doesn't mean he doesn't have the capacity to be passionate; it's just that his passion can be a bit strong, so he's always worried about overwhelming his partner. But if his partner can handle it, then it'd open up an entirely different side of him.

Despite his capacity for kinky shenanigans, Barbatos's favorite type of intimacy with his partner will be more vanilla and filled with lots of love and affection. So think lazy oral on the bed or couch in the privacy of his room, missionary so he can see your face and feel your legs wrap around him, and you in his lap so he can let you have control and wrap his arms tight around you.

Barbatos is the KING OF AFTERCARE. Baths, tea, cakes, warm blankets, firelight, soft touches, gentle massages, kisses to your cheeks, your temples... and very heartfelt verbal confessions of his love for you.

Will snuggle you tightly after all is said and done.

Loves watching you sleep while he holds you in his arms.

He'd never say it out loud because he doesn't want to burden you, but getting up early each morning and leaving your warmth is the most painful, torturous thing for him.

[maple-seed]

Thrown - Chapter 45: Absence

Summary: Loki takes a trip abroad and longs for what he left behind.

Word Count: 2,059

Author's Notes: Hey everyone. This chapter of Thrown will be the last one posted until January. Holidays are taking their toll and my writing speed has slowed considerably so I'm going to take a little hiatus. My current plan is to start posting again on January 11, 2024, and hopefully returning to the once-a-week schedule at that time. Thanks again for your patience. Happy holidays to anyone who celebrates, and take care.

Thrown Masterlist Loki Masterlist

Loki didn't care for it, the Avengers compound. It was all much too pristine. Clean lines and straight edges. Crisp white and chrome and glass. Sterile. It felt lifeless, when compared to the meandering streets and stone buildings back in New Asgard. Perhaps worst of all, it was full of Avengers.

The tower had been superior, Loki felt. At least the tower had a certain element of grandeur going for it. He kept this opinion to himself. Something told him that may be a sore point.

This trip had been mandatory. There were things to discuss regarding New Asgard, but chief among them was the fact of Loki's continued residency. They called it a "review of progress", but obviously it was a check in to make certain he hadn't been using his freedom to plot some sort of coup. The euphemism was laughable. Loki wouldn't deny that he had progressed, in many ways quite drastically, since he came to this realm, but in what way could these men hope to measure it?

Moreover, he found it insulting that they believed if he had been plotting a coup, that they any hope of detecting it.

There had been interviews and meetings and endless questions. Thor had, apparently, written very detailed reports regarding the goings-on of New Asgard, and particularly Loki's contributions. While the descriptions in the reports were true, Loki felt they portrayed his actions in an overly-generous light.

Throughout the assessments and interrogations, Loki hadn't mentioned you. There were a number of reasons, of course. They would not be likely to understand the way he cared for you, and even less likely to understand the way you cared for him. They would wonder how it was possible that someone like you might love him. He didn't have the energy to explain that he wondered the same thing. They would suspect he had bewitched or corrupted you somehow. Possibly, they might insult you for your folly, which was certainly not something he would be able to tolerate. More than any of that, however, describing you to them simply felt wrong. You were something more precious than this. This trip here was a direct result of the most terrible period of his life. A punctuation on his misery. Even drawing the concept of you into this mire felt like it would sully you somehow.

And so he refrained from mentioning the source of his most drastic changes while here on Midgard. Thor followed his lead, and only brought you up occasionally, and then he only described you as their friend. Loki was grateful.

The days dragged on. Any time he felt that surely he had answered every question of every authority, there was someone new with something else they had to ask, just to be sure. And still that was not the most unbearable part. The most unbearable part was being away from you. This absence made him question how he had ever gone so long without putting his hands on you. It was ridiculous, in the basest sense. He had gone much longer than this without seeing you. He had gone a thousand years without seeing you. He had ached for you for months while standing by your side, but somehow this ache was stronger.

Thor relayed messages by text, and even offered to facilitate a call, which Loki accepted only once. The walls here were listening, quite literally, and there was little he wanted to say to you that he was comfortable having recorded by Stark. Still, hearing your voice had buoyed his spirits and made the rest of this trip moderately more tolerable.

One night, Loki dreamed. He was aware of the dream immediately. He was on the mountain terrace that your hiking trail led to, standing by the stream. The moon was bright and the stars were out, as they had been this past winter when you had brought them here. You were there, standing near the edge, looking out over the landscape. He breathed your name. You looked back over your shoulder, a smile breaking immediately. "Loki." It was only his name, but it carried with it all the longing that he felt. The two of you met and embraced and it all seemed so real; the air, the sky, your skin. It was an illusion, yes, but it was true enough for now, and he held you in his arms for the rest of the night, if only in his dream.

**

This morning was to be their last here at the Compound. There was another meeting, supposedly the final one, where Loki would be interrogated. Thor insisted that "interrogated" was not the right word. Loki felt certain that it was the right word when he found himself sitting at a glass table in some conference room, his brother beside him, with Stark, Rogers, and Fury seated across. Stark and Rogers seemed to be amiable enough, but Fury kept a stone-faced expression. Loki realized he had never seen the man look anything other than angry, or at best mildly irritated. It could be that his face simply looked that way. Perhaps having just the one eye was naturally limiting in expression. He and Thor should exchange notes, he thought. He was not foolish enough to say it out loud.

"I gotta hand it to you, Billy Goat Gruff, you're earning all the gold stars here." Stark wore that insufferable smirk of his. "What he means to say," Rogers, ever the peacemaker, cut in, "is that we think you've been doing very well in your time in New Asgard." "I'm grateful that my existence meets your approval." Loki fought to keep his teeth from grinding. "Oh come on, don't be like that." Stark closed a folder in front of him with a flourish. "You know why we feel the way we do. Before you showed up here in your TARDIS, the last time we met you were blowing us up and tossing us off buildings. I mean, you cut out a man's eyeball for god's sake. Completely unnecessary move, I might add." Loki looked away with a scowl, fighting back violent memories. "And now," Stark continued, "now you're carrying groceries and building homes and teaching underprivileged kids magic algebra or whatever." He leaned back in his chair. "I think it's understandable that we're impressed. You've worked so hard to overcome your natural tendencies." "Perhaps you've mistaken what my natural tendencies are." Loki muttered. "And we're willing to accept that." Rogers offered. "But you understand why we've had to take these measures." "Certainly." "That being said," he glanced at Stark and Fury, "I think we can agree that we can lighten up a bit. Less surveillance. Fewer reports. You've put in the work and you've earned a bit more trust." Loki was annoyed with himself for feeling appreciative of such a meager gesture. But he did, all the same. "Thank you."

Fury spoke for the first time. "I have a few questions first, before we loosen the leash on this would-be mass murder." Thor scowled at the title, but didn't respond otherwise. Loki nodded. "I am happy to oblige." Fury leaned forward and rested his hands on the table, lacing his fingers. "We've spoken at length about your past; the good and the bad. I want to talk about your future." "Of course." "What do you see in your future? Are you really content living in a small town on the coast of Norway? Ruling over nothing in particular? Do you truly think a prince, a god, like you won't get bored? Crave something more?"

Images passed through Loki's mind. The winding streets of New Asgard, the road that led to the mortal town, your farm nestled in the bend. He saw your studio, your kitchen, your face. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I can say with absolute certainty that everything I crave can be found in New Asgard. Even now, all I wish is to be there again."

Fury's eye bored into him, perhaps trying to judge if he was sincere. He seemed to find what he was looking for and leaned back in his seat.

It was silent for a moment, Stark cut his eyes from one person to the next and drummed his fingers on the table. "Okay, so we're done here? The wonder twins are free to go?"

**

If Loki had his way they would have made for the hangar directly from that conference room, but there were hours still to pass before departure. Thor had to pack, he had farewells to bid, and even had lunch with some of his teammates. Loki caught word that the Widow would be there and he was certain his presence would sour the mood. He abstained, and had a meager meal in his room instead. He fixed his mind on the promise of seeing you again and whiled away the hours until finally, finally they boarded the quinjet. The flight was tolerable enough, knowing that every minute brought him closer to you. When they landed he didn't bother going home at all. He said his goodbye to Thor and immediately set off down the road from New Asgard.

He opened your door and was met with the smell of baking. You were in the kitchen, one tray of cookies cooling on a rack and another about to enter the oven. His ache was soothed at seeing you, but it wasn't enough. He called your name as he crossed the room as quickly as he could.

You glanced up at him as he reached you. "Oh, hey Loki." It was much more casual than he expected. Not deterred, he leaned in to kiss you but missed his target as you turned away to place the tray in the oven. "How was your flight back?" He was stunned for a moment, but took a step closer. "It was fine." He leaned again and once more you took no notice and turned at the last moment to another counter. This time he narrowed his eyes. "No fights with Thor?" He didn't answer, instead he placed himself in your path and his suspicions were confirmed when you casually turned from him and reached up to open a cabinet. You startled when his arm shot out and snapped it shut. His eyes were burning as he loomed and growled. "If you don't kiss me immediately I will burn this realm to the ground." You considered this for a moment. "Where would you start? There are a couple places I would-" You were cut off as he looped an arm around your waist and pulled you close in a crushing kiss. He was gratified when your hands immediately found their place at his shoulders.

Once he was satisfied he broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to yours. "You are, without question, the most irritating, petulant mortal I have ever had the misfortune of loving." A smirk curled your lips. "How many mortals have you loved?" He chuckled softly and kissed your cheek. "Just the one." "Sounds like I'll be winning a bunch of titles, then." "Yes. Superlative in all respects."

He was pleased to notice that your hands didn't leave him, winding their way around his neck. You leaned your head against his shoulder and sighed. "I missed you." "And I, you. Desperately." "How did it go?" "Very well. For several days I refrained from throwing Stark out of a window. A resounding success." You laughed. "I'm so proud of you." "And how were things here?" "I wasted away, pining for my lost love." "I should expect nothing less." He stated solemnly. "I do have the remedy."

Without notice, he bent and grasped your waist, effortlessly tossing you over his shoulder. You squealed. "Loki!" He started carrying you toward the bedroom. You kicked and wriggled, to his absolute delight. "Loki wait!" "Oh, I have waited long enough, I think." You reached away from him, toward the oven. "The cookies!" "You should have considered that before you gave that insolent performance at my homecoming." You struggled some more, laughing. "At least let me turn the oven off!" He waved a hand and there was a click of a knob. With no more excuses, you relented.

He stepped into the bedroom and kicked the door shut behind him.

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Thrown Tag List If you would like to be added or removed from the tag list please leave a comment or send me a message/ask.

@mischief2sarawr, @imalovernotahater, @norestfortheshelbywicked, @purplekitten30, @ozymdias, @pdraxxi, @goblingirlsarah, @chantsdemarins, @n3rdybirdee, @marvel-love24, @lokiprompts, @ladymischief11, @gigglingtiggerv2, @lilmilkbun, @huntress-artemiss, @ellooo0ooo, @femme1fatale, @clairewinchester14, @glitterylokislut, @psychospore, @ladyloki3, @skinij3fx, @iamlokisgloriouspurpose, @lunarnights95, @callxmexnadine, @lilibet261, @valeave, @f2mhg2lt2rta, @fruit-caught-on-camera, @ladymischief11, @paetonnn, @confusedpanda-777, @honeyrydernot, @sarcastic-siren, @wolfsmom1, @lokisgoodgirl, @cakesandtom, @unlucky-number-13, @rinnwylde, @javagirl328, @josiedoesdoodles, @rose7420, @ultrasnakesona, @vickie5446, @superficialdomina, @ireallyneedtherapy, @weirdowoody, @hotmesshobbit, @buttercupcookies-blog, @km-ffluv, @mrsbarnes32557038, @tallseaweed, @leothecat97, @soulpiercing, @axen-gers, @im-a-slut-for-fluff, @jainaeatsstars, @whattwhoo, @xxfaithlynxx, @thisisew, @rvautomatic, @herdetectivetheorist, @rhiannon-russo, @loki-godofstories, @thedistractedagglomeration, @halepack2011, @kalibrate @fireflymoonwitch

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Actually for the recent dreams, I figured Deuce doesn't really want to go back to being a delinquent but he does think things were easier so he somewhat wishes things were still like that (wasn't he somewhat considered an honor student with. whatever weird standarts the school had in his dream? i don't remember)

For Cater.... It did feel kinda relevant that he didn't know why he dreamt of that, actually. I wouldn't know how so exactly... Like idk the fact even then he doesn't want Riddle to know? Someone suggested he masks so much he doesn't even know what he actually wants (which broke me a little). Also I will be overthinking the fact his first flashback was triggered by Trey saying he'll take care of everything thank you. Overall I still hope he'll get more character moments in the next dreams (trey dream save me) but it's probably wishful thinking.

I guess convenience would make sense for Deuce's dream...? I feel like the same thing could be achieved by making him an actual honors student (while also dumbing down the materials to make it more suitable for his current level of academic understanding). Still, I can't help but feel that the devs took the former route (again, despite Deuce not actively longing for his delinquent days) because the dreams are really just excuses to show us concepts that have been teased for a while (like king!Leona, Savanaclaw!Rook, or delinquent!Deuce) for fanservice.

I definitely felt that Cater's dream was quite wonderlandiful in spirit and a mishmash of various "fun" elements. If it was an issue of him not knowing his own identity due to so frequently masking, I feel like they should have better hinted at it throughout the dream like they did with Deuce. As it currently stands, I'm not sure if they did a good job of leading us to that conclusion. It only makes sense if you extrapolate it or bring in outside details, such as waaay earlier in book 7, where Cater expressed not knowing what he wanted to do for his fourth-year internship(s), or bring in events/vignettes, like how Cater gives superficial and fake wishes to the Star Sending every year.

I don't think it's strange that Cater doesn't want Riddle to know about the contents of his dream. If anything, it's sort of expected. Cater's the type that dislikes confrontation and wishes to avoid his dorm leader's wrath at all times. If Riddle heard about Cater's chaotic version of Heartslabyul and how lenient dream!Riddle was about all of it, Cater would surely lose his head 😭

I hope that we get something more meaningful out of Cater when he comes with us to Trey's dream... Maybe something addressing how he longs for Trey's companionship but can't bring himself to just... be open about it. After all, Cater has expressed on more than one occasion that he lowkey desires this and to be heard out by TREY specifically. Trey is the one person who consistently noticed Cater's fakeness. And, of course, a memory of Trey thanking him is the first vision Cater has when he begins to question the reality of his dream.

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Rebellious!reader getting together with Richard Cameron on Halloween would include~

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(Been struggling with my editing lately so sorry if this lowkey blows. The ending is kind of loose but I liked the ambiguity.)

“She’s …passionate.” Your second grade teacher had smiled at your mother: a tightlipped, awkward sort of smile that even an eight year old could tell was insincere. It was the first time in your life that you watched a person say something they didn’t mean. Not a lie, not necessarily, just not the truth: not what they wanted to say. 

- See, when Mrs. Dubrow called you "passionate", what she'd really wanted to say was argumentative, but calling the daughter of one of the schools biggest sponsors anything with a negative connotation was simply out of the question. So Argumentative turned into passionate, rebellious turned into free spirited, stubborn turned into opinionated, and so on and so forth.

- Despite everyone else in your life choosing to sugarcoat things, your parents never did. They didn't call you eager, they called you impulsive. They didn't call you extroverted, they called you loud and obnoxious. Regardless of what you were doing, you could rest reassured that your parents would exaggerate every little detail and make you out to be some kind of problem child.

- The older you got, the more you began to realize that you were never going to please them. They were always going to think of you as this disrespectful, disorganized, and lazy little girl. So why try to improve their image of you? Why worry about what they thought? About what anyone thought? You could act any way you wanted and no ones opinion of you would change in the slightest, you'd just be happier in the long run.

- ...So why do you care about what Richard Cameron thinks?

- Richard was a friend of a friend, and even before the two of you started openly disliking each other, you tried your best to steer clear of him. He made you uncomfortable: not in a "he's a creep" sort of way, but rather in a "our personalities seem to clash too much" sort of way instead. Things were awkward between the two of you. You weren't close but you were constantly being forced to spend time with each other, and the more time you spent together, the more stifling the tension seemed to become. No matter what you did, Richard just didn't seem to like you.

- And that would have been fine! That you could accept. What you couldn't accept, however, was being blamed for that aforementioned awkwardness. After you'd skipped one too many mutual hangouts, a friend of yours had jokingly asked why you didn't want to spend time with them anymore. You'd assured them that that wasn't the case, explaining that you didn't think that Richard liked you very much: that he was always acting weird towards you and that it made things kind of awkward. Your friend, sensing an "it was all a big misunderstanding!" moment and hoping to resolve things between the two of you, had innocently informed you that Cameron claimed that you were the one acting weird.

- ...You were immediately enraged.

- He thinks you're the one to blame? You?? He's the one who's always acting like you've personally slighted him: sticking his nose up at you and acting like you're some kind of freak; even when all you've done is say "hi" to him and his friends.

- Never in your life have you agonized over your choices quite as much as you have after meeting him. He makes you feel like an insecure preteen, like you're some kind of loser who doesn't know how to interact with regular, normal people. You stay up at night overthinking all of your actions, like your mere existence is embarrassing and flawed. You're constantly wondering if you've made the right decisions, if you've done something wrong, even when you know for a fact that you haven't. It's like you constantly have to question whether or not you've suddenly forgotten all social etiquette; whether or not you've gone momentarily insane.

- Your parents always chastised you for being disorganized, and maybe you are, but you never envied neatness until you met Richard Cameron. Everything about him is pristine, perfect without even trying to be. Everything has it's place, everything is sparkly clean. His notes are never crumpled, his handwriting is always legible, his satchel's always filled with supplies. He makes you feel like an imposter, like a ditzy little girl trying to keep up with a bunch of established adults.

- He acts like you don't notice the tears in your stockings, or the pulls in your sweaters, or the shortness of your skirt. "There's a rip in your tights" He points out unceremoniously, and suddenly you're back in your childhood home, your mother yanking a brush through your hair in exasperation while she scolds you for dirtying your Sundays best.

- Your hairs always had this ...messy sort of quality to it. It's the opposite of Richards, who combs it to perfection whenever he can: gelling and styling it so that it's prim and proper regardless of the weather. But it's not just his hair that's perfect, it's ...everything. A normal student has ink marks on their hands, scuffed or creased shoes, wrinkled uniforms with buttons that are either undone or done wrong in some places. Richard isn't like that. His hands are always clean, his shoes are always polished, his uniform is always ironed and buttoned up perfectly without a speck of lint or dirt in sight.

- He's the type of boy they'd put on a "Welcome to Welton!" pamphlet, the type of boy your mother wants you to bring home. And maybe it annoys you that he seemingly has no interest in you. Maybe it feels a little like proof that your mother was right: that a boy like him would never go for a girl like you, not if you didn't straighten yourself out.

- But if you straightened yourself out, you'd wind up like him. You'd be an uptight goody two shoes too scared to do anything at all. You'd stand at the sidelines and point out every little thing that could possibly go wrong. You'd worry instead of live.

- Richard acts like you don't care about anything: like you're this wild, crazy person who doesn't know how to control yourself; like you're too stupid to think your actions through. But even harmless, childish fun is a no-go in Richards eyes—he acts like he's too good for it, like it's embarrassing to have a good time. So really, you think Richard is the one who needs to change: the one who needs to loosen up.

- Richards dislike of you is due in part to his own insecurities. It's a projection: the voice of his parents spilling out from his own two lips. Richard doesn't hate you, he just ...sort of resents you. You make him feel cowardly: make him feel young and stupid and lame. You’re so free and he’s so …stuck. Stuck doing the same things he’s been taught to do ever since he was a little kid: the things his parents and teachers and society wants him to do. He’s terrified to rebel—yet you never are. You’re more of a dead poet than he’ll ever be, and you’re not even a part of the club.

- You're one of those people who always say yes: the ones that never hesitate or worry or stress. It's like you'd rather suffer the consequences later; whatever those consequences may be, than just stop for a moment and think. You never care whenever you get in trouble, like it doesn't matter to you one way or the other. Sometimes he wishes he could be the same—that his parents expectations didn't weigh so heavily on his back.

- They expect him to get good grades so he studies for hours and makes sure that he does. You get good grades without even trying, and even when you don't, you never seem to care.

- And you hate math, I mean, who hates math? It's simple: you just follow a formula and you get it right! Yet you love English, who's good at English? Half of it's hogwash: all emotion and luck and trying to think outside of the box. Well the box is there for a reason, and he's going to stay inside!

- He wishes you'd stay in your box: that you'd act like a lady instead of showing off and making him feel all pathetic. He's supposed to be "a man", yet every time he's meant to act like it, you're the own who steals the show. You upstage him in his own masculinity and you do it while wearing a mini skirt.

- You swoop in whenever he "puts his foot in his mouth", interrupting the awkward silence or the subsequent bickering, and making yourself seem all charming and smart in comparison. You always know when to speak and when to shut up, and even when you're upset, you still manage to say what's on your mind in a witty and eloquent way.

- You run verbal circles around him and he thinks you do it on purpose: that you find enjoyment in making him feel like a weak little worm; like a stupid little boy who needs somebody to save him. He doesn't realize that you're trying to help him: trying to move focus away from his inappropriate or ill-timed comments and save him some embarrassment.

- Your whole rivalry is just a bunch of miscommunications and misconceptions but the two of you are too stubborn to work things out. You try to be nice and he thinks you're being condescending: that you're mocking him and being all backhanded. Because of this, he acts all awkward and standoffish around you, which leads you to assume the worst of him. When he happens to say something that could be misconstrued, or when something happens to come out wrong, you never give him the benefit of the doubt. When he thinks he's being helpful, you think that he's shaming you.

"What? What did I say?" He looks at the other boys when you walk off with a roll of your eyes.

- You both tell anyone who will listen that you don't like each other, that Cameron's a stiff and that you're crazy, but you rarely say any of it to each others faces; unless things get really heated.

- You mainly try to avoid or ignore each other, but sometimes you just can't help it. Oftentimes, those interactions include one or both of you scolding/taunting the other. Lighten up, Richard. Can you be serious, y/n. Things of the like.

- You're like the female version of Charlie, which explains why the two of you are such good friends. Richard remembers the first time he saw the two of you talking, the first time Charlie brought you up in conversation, the first time the boy snuck out after curfew with you. He'd wondered when the two of you had gotten so close and though he'd hate to admit it, he felt a swell of jealousy as well; whether it was for you or for Charlie he couldn't tell.

- Being the boys dormmate means that he gets to see you more than he bargains for. Sometimes you'll throw pebbles at their window and he'll watch Charlie grab his coat from the corner of his eye, slipping out of the room with hardly a single goodbye. He's moved past trying to dissuade him from leaving, so instead, he tries to focus on his homework, determined to ignore you as you wait on the grass below. Somedays he succeeds and others he doesn't. On those days, he'll sneak up to the glass and steal glances at you as you wait on the glass below, watching the door for the equally rebellious boy instead of looking up at him.

- He'll see you smile brightly at Charlie as he finally joins you outside, watch you grab him by the arm and run off with him into the night, and it's in those moments that he truly envies you. You'll leave Welton with a head full of exciting experiences and he'll leave Welton with a couple dozen math equations that he'll never actually use.

- Experiences like when Charlie helped you sneak into their dorm room, tucked into his side and dressed in a mans coat and hat. You'd giggled with each other while Richard panicked, ranting about how both of you were going to get the three of you in so much trouble. Nevertheless, you'd stayed the entire night, side by side with Charlie on his tiny bed, talking and gossiping until dusk turned into dawn. He'd stolen glances at you in the golden glow of the morning, and though he'd never say it out loud, in that moment, he'd thought that you were prettier than any girl he'd ever seen; even when dressed in men's hand-me-down clothing.

- Both of you like each other more than you'd like to admit. And maybe it's because he likes you more than he wants to admit that he hates the thought of you putting yourself in danger, or being expelled, or getting in trouble or hurt. And maybe it's because you like him more than you'd like to admit that you hate seeing him scared and miserable and refusing to let himself enjoy even the simplest of things. Things like Halloween....

- Everyone in your friend group was meant to sneak out after curfew and meet in the woods behind the academy. From there, you'd start a bonfire and spend the rest of the night showing off your costumes and telling scary stories. You, of course, had immediately agreed to come; if the event wasn't your idea in the first place, and though Richard had been hesitant, he'd agreed to come as well.

- Anytime somebody asked you what your costume was going to be, you'd joked about showing up completely naked, insisting that you were going to dance under the full moon "like a real witch". Charlie had scoffed at Richard when he asked the other guys if they thought you'd actually show up like that. But the boy didn't offer any clues as to what you'd actually be dressing up as, so no one really knew what you'd end up looking like come time for your midnight meetup.

- When the night in question comes around, you're one of the last people to show up. Richard sits around the fire with the rest of the boys, sporting a normal sweater and slacks. He's chosen not to wear a costume, reasoning that masks aren't allowed in school and anything else he could have possibly worn would have made him feel more stupid than festive. He thinks the other boys look silly, dressed in capes and togas and so on, but when his eyes land on you for the first time, he finds nothing silly about your costume.

- It looks more like a one piece bathing suit than an actual outfit: both your legs are fully exposed; covered only by a sheer pair of tights, and your naked arms lay hidden beneath a crushed velvet cape. You look like you're competing in a beauty contest, one you'd surely be the winner of. "Nuwanda" cheers when you show up while Richard and the others go slack-jawed at the sight of you. Knox says "wow", Pitts asks if you've "always looked like that", and Neil says "she looks great". Richard, in an attempt to try and hide how he really feels, says "she looks inappropriate".

"You're signing your expulsion papers wearing something like that," He scolds halfheartedly when you finally end up alone at his side. His eyes dart to your exposed legs as he takes a sip of his drink. "Aren't you cold?"

You shrug. "A little. But I'll probably just borrow Charlies jacket or something."

- Before you can finish your sentence, he's shrugging his own jacket off and handing it to you; refusing to look you in your eyes. You glance at the article of clothing in surprise, biting back a smirk as you notice the slight tremble of the boys hand. You take his jacket with a small thanks, pulling it around your shoulders and eying him as he looks anywhere but at you.

"Cat got your tongue?" You tease as he continues to sit next to you silently, awkwardly looking around the party instead of making conversation.

"Hate it that much, huh?" You snicker, referencing the costume that he refuses to comment on yet keeps trying to steal glances at whenever he thinks you aren't looking. He stutters, fumbling over a response.

"I don't hate it." He finally manages, and its so genuine that you're forced to believe it.

"It's nice, ...pretty. Just ...cold." He mutters, and you can't help but find it kind of cute. You sit there and watch him for a little while, observing the way he struggles to look at you even more now that he's shyly admitted to liking your outfit. You scoot closer.

"What are you doing?" He asks nervously

"I'm cold." You claim.

"Yeah, that's what happens when you don't wear pants." He scolds halfheartedly. You ignore him, scooting even closer and snuggling up to his side. And even though he tenses at the contact, swallowing hard and awkwardly clearing his throat, he doesn't move away....

[luimagines]

Oohhh! The recent anon asks about both music and swimming have given me so many ideas!

For swimming the idea that hylians are denser and weigh more for their body size is super interesting! (If I'm interpreting that correctly) It would be interesting if the others who aren't as familiar with humans are just kinda baffled by how little the reader weighs in comparison to their size. I could totally imagine reader just getting picked up randomly by members of the chain. (Mostly Wild and Twilight mostly I'd imagine but I also see Sky joining in from time to time. That man is a gremlin when he wants to be.) Just full on circle of life Lion King style. Reader is just very done with these antics.

Also wouldn't it be so sad that the boys never got to experience the joy that are musicals. :c Twi would probably be the most chill about music growing up around humans and all. I could imagine someone in the chain coming across reader playing an instrument one day (we're going with violin for now since that's what I personally play) and it's just this beautifully haunting piece. And the Link is just frozen there like, "There must some sort of powerful magic at play with this piece!" But as he stands there not making a sound, holding his breath nothing continues to happen. And with a final flourish reader finishes and finally notices the Link there. I think there would probably need to be quite a bit of explaining on both sides.

Also what if there was a human hero!reader? They we're the one to save Hyrule but were never technically the hero. The proper Link of that era just up and left. Reader doesn't have the hero's spirit and can't even wield the master sword. I think it would be super interesting if they were from a time that was a lot more judgemental of humans so even after saving the country (which most people won't even acknowledge) reader can't have any peace. I also think that would raise an interesting counterpoint to some of the chain's preconceived notions that they have zero say in their quests. They would probably bond with Wind at least a bit though on account of them both not having the hero's spirit!

Hope you don't mind my excessively long ramble. I would have split it into smaller chunks but then I would have forgotten some part of it.

Have a lovely rest of your week and drink some water! <3 \(⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)/

I'm perfectly fine with long rambles! I'm glad to see you're interesting in this dumb au idea XD

Thank you for your patience in regards to me answering this. <3

Now I can't get over the mental image of Link holding up Reader like a child. He'd probably find it hilarious while Reader is two seconds from stabbing him.

In fact, I think Twilight would be the one to embrace music in a casual sense since he wouldn't have had the Hylian cultural ties. He grew up with humans. Music isn't necessarily sacred. Have fun with it! Twilight probably knows how to play the spoons and will drag Reader into jamming with him for the hell of it.

And Reader being the hero on top of the that?! Oh that would mess with their heads a bit.

Wind would probably latch onto that as well. Like, "neither of us were chosen, but that didn't stop us. You're more like me than they are!" And the betrayal a line like that would cause!

Some Link's would take a while to stop being petty.

[atopvisenyashill]

Do you think Rhaenys was in love with Aegon?

I’m sure she cared for him as a brother, but I don’t see why people push the idea of something more just because of the “Targcest” narrative. There’s no real evidence to suggest she was romantically in love with him—only his feelings toward her are shown in that light. It feels like some fans ignore the nuance of sibling relationships—just because the boundaries in Targaryen families can seem unconventional doesn’t mean every relationship crosses that line. Moreover, it’s deeply troubling that many of the men in their family may have a sense of entitlement to their sisters.

Considering how pre-Viserys Targaryens carefully controlled who received dragons to ensure they stayed within the family, it wouldn’t be surprising if Rhaenys married Aegon primarily to retain her claim to a dragon rather than being married off to some lord. This would align with her portrayal as a free-spirited woman.

Well you say "just because the boundaries in Targaryen families can seem unconventional doesn’t mean every relationship crosses that line" but I would argue that every single Targaryen relationship DOES cross that line, by virtue of living in a family where you are expected to marry your sibling. Like yeah it IS deeply troubling that the men feel so entitled to the women in their family but that's the point imo - this family is engaging with the rot of feudalism and patriarchy because down to their bones, the way this family works is rotten. Yes there are some romantic Valyrian incest relationships but these marriages are shown to have a very dark side, like the entire breakdown of Jaehaerys & Alysanne's marriage, or the cowardly way Aemon acts towards Naerys. Daemon and Rhaenyra have the toxic twin flame thing going for them, but they weren't born toxic for each other, or toxic in general - it was a slow build of Daemon getting it reinforced that incest marriages are better and keep you part of the family and relevant (look at what happens to Rhaenys!), that age does not matter and conflating the kindness of an uncle with the seduction of a lover is totally normal behavior. He didn't just pop out of Alyssa acting like that! He learned it, from Jaehaerys, from Viserys, from Baelon, and he taught it to Rhaenyra, to Aegon, to Aemond.

So like....did Rhaenys romantically love Aegon? I think, given the history of people in this family blurring lines, it's not surprising to say that yes she probably did. I mean, to take it back to Daemon again - yes his attraction to Rhaenyra is tied up in his need to stay relevant to the family, his need to claim himself as a Targaryen, to have a dragon, to have power, to have acceptance, BUT it's also tied into the fact that he genuinely loves her the way an uncle loves his niece, just like loves Viserys the way a brother loves another, BUT there is this line that blurs, so that sweetness of wanting Rhaenyra to feel like ~herself~ (a totally normal inclination for an uncle to have for his niece, especially considering how relatively close in age they are) ends in him attempting to seduce her and ruin her reputation publically. Does Daemon want his mother's love or does he want to fuck his mom? Does Daemon want Viserys' love or does he want to fuck his brother? He doesn't know! He can't know! I don't think Rhaenys would make that sort of distinction! If she's in love with Aegon, she gets a dragon, she gets power, she gets a marriage to a man she trusts not to abuse her and allow her freedom (think of Rhaenyra conflates Daemon and freedom, or Rhaena and Aegon - marrying a relative you know will probably give you a longer leash is better than marrying a stranger who may not do the same!), she gets to spend the rest of her life hanging out with a brother who, by all accounts, she got along with very well and had a lot in common with. I don't think being free spirited or headstrong would stop her from feeling romantically inclined towards Aegon - Rhaenyra and Daena are very headstrong but both of them very much believe in the concept of Valyrian supremacy and Valyrian marriages.

Personally, I think they weren't having sex but I do think there was in fact a real romantic relationship that existed between Aegon and Rhaenys (and Rhaenys and Visenya, for that matter). I think there's room to have a different opinion there but I don't think it's a misreading to feel like she was in love with him either, and I don't think Rhaenys feeling a sibling bond with Aegon means she can't also have had a romantic or sexual attraction towards him, or that she wasn't very aware that marrying him was just socially and politically, the best choice for her.

[mephiestophyl]

sylus really has me wondering if he even has a heart in his chest at all? I mean, with his current form, there is some dialogue that suggests that there is something beating in there — maybe it's some sort of fake heart that was put there (this may be a stretch)?

my doubts about him having a real heart stems from two things — 1) the knowledge that his current form isn't his real form and 2) the fact that he didn't die from being shot in the heart and can regenerate from his injuries when it is night time and has made multiple allusions to not being able to die. the dialogue above suggests that maybe he does have a heart in there, but then there are also these lines that he says??

he's just so ominous 😭 (third pic is from where you touch directly where his heart is/should be)

the first two lines he says here could be interpreted as him meaning that he's never been scared or excited before, but I can't find myself agreeing with it due to his tone of voice. I think he wouldve came off as more arrogant like a "heh, I wonder what THAT feels like 😼" with cockiness in his tone, instead of the "I wonder what that feels like... 😮‍💨" with a visible longing in his voice

his heart being a fake/imitation would also explain why his heartbeats are so irregular and high, as it would not function how a real heart normally does, as well as the fact that he still breathes perfectly fine after being shot directly in the heart (which then begs the question of how he even breathes, or if he even needs oxygen to begin with)

and then there's this line?? I'm probably over thinking it, but this line could either mean 1) a more likely conclusion of the plants being unable to produce oxygen due to the environmental conditons of the N109 zone (which it is true that plants arent able to thrive in the N109 zone as told in sylus' myth), or 2) they are unable to produce oxygen around him due to sylus not being able to produce any carbon dioxide when he exhales, as that is something produced by humans and animals which would ultimately exclude him

some could argue that sylus does have a real heart inside him and that in this scene he just regenerated his heart wound, but I just can't agree because his regeneration speed would have to be LIGHTNING fast to recover from being shot in the heart, and from what we've seen from this scene and when his cheek was nicked by MC with the knife, there's a visible delay between how long the injury lingers and the recovery + he also purposefully lowers the gun from where MC intended to shoot him in the head to where his heart is, which THEN makes me wonder if he can die from being shot in the head and through his brain.. and then it also makes me wonder what would happen if he was shot in the heart while under the sun?? would he die instantly or would he just recover extremely slowly?? sigh, this man is just so complicated

this isn't even including the amount of times that sylus just straight up says that he's heartless man,,

I also think that sylus longs to have a real heart, as it is hinted at in the 2nd image that I show here, as well as the fact that he probably doesn't view himself as someone capable of human emotion since he does not qualify as a human, and wants to feel in the way that humans do, plus he most likely views himself as a heartless monster (excluding but as well as in a literal sense) and therefore he believes that he is lacking something to be sensitive, even tho he is already a sensitive person and does not realise it 🥺

this bit is also a stretch, but what if his "real heart" lies in MC? we know that sylus has referred to us and him as "being the same", and that we are "two kindred spirits", and that they both have aether cores implanted in them

sylus also suggests that we have some sort of debt that we have to pay him and that we owe him our life, which could mean that we owe him our own/his heart?

but if our heart does belong to him, how did we even end up with it to begin with? and does this mean we have to die for him eventually? or if he has to take MC's life like how MC took his (though I dont actually know if he died during that scene as he is still capable of grabbing MC's hand in his as theyre holding the sword in his chest, but he either couldve died shortly after and was possibly reborn or he was temporarily subdued by the sword)? maybe the reason sylus is unable to die is beacuse we have his heart?

I didn't really think that last part through all that much, but hopefully there will be some more clues/hints down the line that suggest to something similar to what I'm trying to say

in conclusion I have no idea what's going on with this man dude

[anonymous-chicken-was-taken]

What the Ace Attorney Villains Could Get Charged With (to the best of my research) (in America laws)

Game Two

!Disclaimer! I know nothing about law take this with a grain of salt I was just bored.

Richard Wellington

Assault and battery - Two cases of both. One when he killed Dustin Prince and the second when he hit Phoenix with the fire extinguisher. Though, depending on whether or not Phoenix saw him coming, he could be innocent of the second assault charge. Not the battery, though. I doubt either would count as aggravated assault, as it was the fall, not the fists, that killed Dustin; though Phoenix's is a bit more uncertain due to the weight of the fire extinguisher and the fact that he's only not dead because he's a freak of nature.

Incrimination - He tried to frame Maggey with the name written in the sand.

Obstruction of justice - Can you say "tampering with the crime scene"?

Theft - He stole Phoenix's phone, even if it wasn't technically his intention. It doesn't really matter, since his own phone was likely regarded as evidence. So, theft no matter how you look at it.

Fraud - So much fraud, seeing as he's a con artist. That's what con artistry is. The textbook definition of fraud, all the time, as a job.

Conspiracy - As he was in a GROUP of con artists, his fraud is conspiratorial in nature.

Second-degree murder - He had the intention to kill or severely injure Dustin, but didn't seem to be thinking about it. Thus, no premeditation.

Computer fraud/abuse - Yes, this is an actual thing. When he deletes the contacts off of Phoenix's phone, he's commiting a crime. Doubly so since his actual intention to delete information off of a piece of evidence during a criminal investigation, which may lead to some transferred intent or something.

Perjury

Morgan Fey (includes crimes from Game 3)

Conspiracy - She plans the murder of Dr. Grey with Ini Miney, in depth. Perhaps the most clear-cut case of conspiracy in the series. Also all KINDS of conspiracy in Bridge to the Turnabout.

Obstruction of justice - She did the tampering of the crime scene in Dr. Grey's murder, hiding and fabricating several pieces of evidence regarding Maya.

Incrimination - You know the deal. Frame-ups are incrimination.

Treason - Depending on how you interpret the government in Kurain, she could be guilty of this by committing crimes against the government. I'm trying to figure out what crime she may have committed trying to usurp Maya and Misty, so I may change this later if I figure out something more accurate.

Corruption - If you don't think treason makes sense, then she definitely committed this, regardless. Even without any monarchy, there would have to be some kind of business model for the spirit channeling, which makes her a business executive of sorts, therefore capable of criminal corruption.

First-degree murder - By proxy, when Ini Miney kills Dr. Grey. They planned it together, after all.

Attempted regicide - This is the closest real life law to describe when she tried to kill Maya due to her status. By proxy, of course. If you don't buy the Feys being some kind of pseudo-monarchy, then this is just attempted murder.

Assault and battery - Three charges, by proxy. One for Dr. Grey, one for the drugging of Maya, and one for Dahlia attacking Maya at Hazakura temple. All are aggravated except for the drugging because knife. It's possible some of the assault charges wouldn't go through due to the fact that Dr. Grey and Maya may not have seen the attacks coming.

Child abuse - Her treatment of Pearl could easily be considered this, particularly in the third game when she tries to trick her into murdering her cousin. That's pretty bad parenting.

Perjury

Acro (Ken Dingling)

First-degree murder - The murder was about as planned as you can get without taking it to its logical extreme Manfred-von-Karma-style. Yes, he intended to murder Regina, but transferal of intent is a thing. I'm honestly not sure if the fact that he was intending to kill a child carries over, but if it does, the punishment would be greater.

Obstruction of justice - A bit of a grey area, but he did hide the murder weapon and burn the cape, so I believe this applies.

Child endangerment - This or a similar charge may apply due to his goal to kill a child, by my best estimation. Even if it doesn't, failure to report suspected child abuse can count as child endangerment, and... well, the basically the whole circus was grooming this sixteen year old girl, so...

Incrimination - Depends if you think his framing of Max became intentional at some point along the way, which, considering the fact that he testified against him, it almost definitely did.

Battery - No assault, actually, since Russel didn't see the statue coming! But still battery. Automatically.

Perjury

Matt Engarde (+ Shelly de Killer, by extent)

Conspiracy - He hired an assassin.

First-degree murder - He hired an assassin.

Burglary - Breaking into a place with the intent of committing a felony. While he didn't do this himself, he had Shelly de Killer do it, and anything a hitman does while carrying out the act they were paid to do is a crime the hirer is also guilty of.

Assault and battery - Given Shelly de Killer suffocated Juan and there were signs of a struggle, this is presumably true. Matt is guilty by proxy. Given that we have no idea what he used to kill him, I have no idea if this is aggravated or not.

Fraud - Shelly de Killer pretended to be a bellboy at the hotel. Matt is guilty by proxy.

Blackmail - The ENTIRE case hinges on blackmail in the form of kidnapping Maya. However, he also takes significant steps towards blackmailing Shelly de Killer, so he may actually have two cases of this on his hands.

Kidnapping - This is a bit of a grey area, since it isn't certain that he directly ordered Shelly de Killer to kidnap Maya and use her to blackmail Phoenix. However, given that she was hidden in his house, he seems to know what happened, and he assists by reminding Phoenix of the situation, it's safe to say this was a conspiratorial crime. He's almost DEFINITELY going to be found guilty of this.

Wiretapping - Hiding hidden cameras in a "gift" for someone, as well as around his private residence... wiretapping for sure. Only if the video included audio, though. If not, it doesn't count.

Incrimination - In the plot twist of the century, he's actually guilty of this through conspiring with Phoenix himself. While he did not directly tell him or formulate and communicate the plan to pin the blame on Adrian at first, he did so later and clarified that this was always his intention. While Phoenix has the defense of being blackmailed at the time and the fact that he didn't actually provide any incriminating testimony (perhaps he's accessory?), Matt likely isn't going to be so lucky.

Invasion of privacy - See: wiretapping. Even if the cameras didn't have audio, they'd still be a huge invasion of privacy.

Taking a hostage - A few different names for this depending on where you are, but the basic principle remains the same. This is a separate crime from kidnapping and blackmail, as neither automatically mean a hostage situation. By proxy; even if he weren't conspiring, Shelly still defines this as part of the duties he was paid for, so the whole hired-felony-committing thing still applies.

False imprisonment - This is also not technically the same as a kidnapping charge. Shelly not only moved Maya to a different location against her will (kidnapping), but he also kept her there (false imprisonment). By proxy.

Perjury

GAME ONE

[hyrule-in-a-pokeball]

GANONDORF AND "CALAMITY" GANON: TWO SEPARATE BEINGS

Calamity Ganon, as we know, was more like a primal force of nature, though it did display some level of intelligence with its ability to formulate and execute plans (Spawning the blights and unleashing them, corrupting the Guardians, etc) it wasn't exactly a big brain genius. I mean, come on, it had 10,000 years to plan, and the best it came up with, while effective, was "Uno reverse lol" And with an additional 100 years its plan became "Cyborg time!"

And then just. "Big pig!"

It wasn't a tactical genius. It won because Hyrule was overly reliant on the ancient Sheikah technology to the point that they were helpless against that very technology when it was turned against them.

But what the hell was Calamity ganon? Well, we see it in three, maybe four forms. Pig Cloud

Which Creating a Champion states is a "spirit composed of malice"

Fashion disaster Ganon

An incomplete, slapped together body made of Malice and machinery (Apparently he started building this body when he sensed Link awaken in the chamber of resurrection)

Kaiju Ganon

A body formed of pure malice as a final "screw you though" after his cool new cyborg body was destroyed.

And the fourth body is possibly the malice itself, seeing as he seemed to be hell bent on using it to make his new bodies. It was like clumps of flesh just sort of laying around waiting to be assembled into something.

So now that we know the calamity's 3 (or 4) main forms, I want to focus on the pig cloud, because I think that is Calamity Ganon's truest form. The malice is something it created, either intentionally or as a byproduct of simply existing, and its other bodies were things made of that malice.

Now, we know that Calamity Ganon was utterly destroyed at the end of Breath of the wild. It didn't like, return to Dry Ganondorf in the depths. That thing got nuked.

And that means that Ganondorf's consciousness was always in his dry body and not acting through the Calamity. In fact, when Rauru seals him away, he taunts Rauru and says "Thousands of years will pass in the blink of an eye" which to me says he knows he gonna be stuck in that spot for a hot minute.

The Calamity spawned from him, but it was not him. Its almost like a giant, out of control Phantom Ganon thats just sort of up there doing its best. But with Ganondorf sealed away, how did Calamity Ganon get loose? Well, it might seem odd, but I think Majora's mask (the object) can point us in the right direction

Majora's Mask was once just a normal mask. Carved from normal wood. (actually if you look at the renders it looks more like it was carved from stone, but whatever) It wasn't alive, it didn't possess magic powers. It was just a mask. A mask used in ancient hexing rituals. Over time, the negative energies created from those hexing rituals sort of infected the mask and eventually became conscious, with the mask acting as a body. It was a Tulpa that was housed inside the mask. (A tulpa is a concept in mysticism of an object or being that is created through mental or spiritual power. To make it extremely basic: A tulpa is an imaginary friend that stops being imaginary. Actually in that sense, Phantom Ganon is basically a tulpa.)

So, Ganondorf, sealed away, conscious or not, was just seething. Pure hate for Hyrule, for Rauru the first king, and all his descendants. That hate was so pure and intense that it basically manifested as Calamity Ganon. The pig cloud. A separate entity born of Ganondorf's sheer spite and hate.

And if you need further proof that they are not the same entity, we need only look to Ganondorf's profile in Tears of the Kingdom, unlocked after completing the game.

Ganondorf had been slowly working on his revival for 100 years INDEPENDENTLY of Calamity Ganon. Link and Zelda just pulled a "wrong place/wrong time" when they found him at the exact moment the seal finally weakened enough to break.

Man what would Ganondorf have done if he broke out of his seal like 5 or 8 years earlier, made his way to the surface, and found pig cloud ganon just up there partying?

[phoenix-of-jade]

12

In honor of SPOTIFY WRAPPED,  send me a number 1-100 and I’ll write you a starter based on the song.

Song number 12: Love the way it hurts by Cloudy June

Oh, your demons match my ghosts

Twin spirits... That was the conclusion the raven haired had came to after listening to Minjun's story about his past and the unfortunate love story he'd gone through. It was interesting how two seemingly completely different people, with completely different backgrounds, could share soo much in common, from a complicated family background characterized by messy games of power and the iron fist of parental authority, to the tragedy of losing their first loves in an unfortunate turn of events that would make said people haunt them to this day (even if the circumstances were different for each one of them, as well as the nature of the "haunting").

I'm sad as fuck you know

When Minjun told him that he couldn't let go of Joowan because he was his very first ever love, the information kind of struck a sensitive chord buried deep within Xuan's heart and soul. He could relate in a way with the lawyer's pain and struggles with moving on, because he too was haunted by a similar ghost: while he didn't lie about Cheng being some sort of 'ex', the man wasn't Xuan's only friend he'd ever gotten involved with in a seemingly romantical way.

The two had another friend with whom they both were very close, a boy named Xia, and while Xuan didn't love Cheng in a romantic manner, he did bear this kind of feelings for this boy; feelings he was too young back then to be able to fully understand what they were or what they meant, but which made Xia be the closest thing to an actual crush Xuan had ever experienced. Unfortunately, Xuan lost Xia when they were still kids, the young man dying at the ripe age of 13 and leaving the at the time 12 year old Xuan with a grueling sense of survivor's guilt. And to this day, the green eyed man blamed himself for Xia's death even if it wasn't his direct doing, living under the impression that anyone he'd grow to love ever again would end up suffering a similar fate, which made Xuan swear that he'll never love again.

You can always make it worse

Yet, cut to the present, and the time spent in the company of this stunning and clever lawyer made Xuan feel a kind of tingle he hadn't felt in literal years, something he never thought would be possible ever again. That strong feeling of compassion and empathy he felt for Minjun, paired with his respect for this handsome man's strong will and determination, had made Xuan develop a keen liking for his new business associate. In other words, he was starting to develop a new crush. But was he ready to accept this kind of feelings in his life? Was Xuan ready to allow himself to love again and welcome this still unknown feeling to nestle into his stone cold heart?

Baby I need you I need your claws on my neck I need your bitter red wine lips and dirty regrets I need your hunger Feels like you're tying me up I'm begging you for your love Begging you for your love

Before he realized it, Xuan had already started to slowly fantasize about him and his lawyer, and that did not include the business framework in the slightest! He couldn't take his mind off of Minjun's charming smile, his charismatic voice and the way his pretty lips looked soo kissable! It was strange feeling like this for someone so suddenly after he hadn't ever caught any semblance of such cravings for anyone else in literal years, not even for Cheng, with whom he had an intimate relationship after all...

Maybe it was the fact that Minjun kind of reminded him of Xia, in a way? It was true, he had black hair and brown eyes like his long departed friend, but so did many other people he'd interacted with in the past and he hadn't developed any displays of lust like this for them. Or maybe it was Minjun's charisma and very kind and selfless nature that reminded him of the young man? Xuan didn't know, but it frustrated him nevertheless. He wanted something from Minjun, that he could tell, but what exactly that something was, heck if even he knew!

Interesting enough was that the lawyer seemed to be interested in him too, or that's what Xuan thought from watching him closely during their conversations. It was bad! This only served to fuel those weird feelings and desires he was having even further! Should he even try to initiate something...?

Xuan shook his head in frustration, sighing and leant back into the chair, staring at the ceiling. Was it even worth it? What if he tries to initiate something romantic with him and Minjun rejects him? Not only would he end up hurt (especially his pride and ego), but that would also risk ruining their business relationship as well...

The raven haired heaved a deep sigh, wondering why things had to be soo complicated? And even if let's say, Minjun were to actually return these feelings of attraction, there was still the issue of his stalker ex boyfriend... Xuan furrowed his eyebrows remembering about what Minjun had told him: Joowan was a murderer and if he'd deem Xuan as competition, he might attempt 'eliminating' him the best way murderers know...

But how can I make me not want you now? Can I make me not go to your house?

But when was he ever afraid of death to begin with? Xuan let out a self-ironic snort. The idea sounded soo stupid in comparison to his lifestyle: he was dealing with the threat of death on a daily, such was the life of a powerful mob leader such as himself. So what was one more assassination threat on top of the already long list looming over his head? Xuan wasn't a scarredy cat. He'd never fret in the face of danger and that wasn't something that would change now. If he wanted Minjun, he could've as well gone for it! Xuan wasn't going to let anyone get in his way and if worse came to worse, he was sure that at least he could rid the lawyer of this annoying pain in the ass.

Baby I crave you I crave your taste in the night (...) And it's rushing from my feet to the back of my head

That thought in mind, Xuan smirked to himself a sinister smile. Yeah, he wasn't going to back down and give up that easily! When he wanted something, he was the type of man that wouldn't refrain from doing almost anything to get that something and if that bastard was even going to think to stand between him and Minjun, Xuan was going to show Joowan what it meant challenging the Green Eyed Death himself.

So yeah, he was going to actually go to Minjun house tonight and finally do what he's been craving to do for quite a while now. Once that decision set, there wasn't turning Xuan back from it and he was going to make sure that nothing, and really nothing, would stand between him and his goal! Those were the very thoughts traversing Xuan's mind as he stared at the shiny revolver glistening in the dim light of the study, before placing it in its holster, concealed nicely underneath his shirt and pants at his back.

Oh, your demons match my ghosts I'm sad as fuck you know You can always make it worse But I love the way it Hurts and maybe that's my curse Come and drag me through the dirt You can always make it worse But I love the way it hurts It hurts It hurts But I love the way it hurts It hurts Oh it hurts

Indeed, they were twin spirits attracting one another and for that reason they should have been together... Xuan wan't one to give up without a fight and even if this would've ended up hurting him in any shape or form, he was more than willing to take that pain. After all, wasn't he the type who liked a little bit of pain anyways?

Cheeky grin played at the corners of his lips and his emerald eyes shined with the glow of a hungry predator ready to go after its pray, as the raven haired exited the office. Let the hunt of the night begin!

[pen-and-umbra]

I was just wondering something. OG spoilers I guess? 🙄 Anyway FS makes it so that Sephiroth sort of knew about mom in a sense that he had that picture locket until Glen kicked it away. Then,,Crisis core through Gen tells us that Sephiroth got told only her name, which doesn't hold true now. It got me thinking that in OG Seph is supposed to learn everything, and then come up with his big bang plan…but he never learns that the woman from the picture was REAL, as in his real biological parent, not some lovecraftian monster?? does it represent that he never finds anything about Lucrecia or just no longer cares and accepts Jenova's wat?🤔 Or is it supposed to mean that once he went psycho in Nibelheim, he never gained clarity in the lifestream afterwards? Many fans say that Seph got his mind back after “death”, but then there's the fact that he never bothered to look for the lost photo and the woman in it. Now I know it's a retcon, but it kinda bothers me 

Yk anon, I was thinking along similar lines; not Lucrecia-centric, specifically, but similar. Had you asked me this question years prior to Remake’s release, I would have told you in no uncertain terms that, yes, after falling into the Lifestream Sephiroth embraces Jenova as the only thing that is left for him — the only thing that provides his existence with a purpose, a place, a connection. Whether it's the result of a mental breakdown and subsequent psychosis, or a conscious choice motivated by a desire to feel superior to humans who „wronged“ him.

Eh, but Rebirth and now First Soldier episodes definitely muddied the waters for me, although I had always considered the Nibelheim incident to be a very — tragically — gray area.

Even if Sephiroth is not mindjacked by Jenova, as Rebirth seemingly implies, why is there such a strong belief that he regained his marbles in the Lifestream? The game's extended compilation promotes the idea that anguished spirits are still delusional, hateful, and anguished after being swept into the Lifestream. IIRC, some of the Aerith side novellas (Lifestream White or The Maiden Who Travels The Planet, can't recall which) touch on the idea that these spirits must be pacified, which is what Aerith tries to do in order to bring back balance. Sephiroth would remain just as delulu in the Lifestream as he was when he took the dive. As you mentioned, one could also argue that he never truly learns the whole truth, such as the fact that he actually had a human mother who is, in fact, still around.

Yet Jenova's mindjacking, as hinted at by his possessed-like behavior in Rebirth, really drives this angle of skewed perception, of overlooking bits of information and acting as if they never existed. Cloud's case exemplifies this well.

Right after Cloud finishes his account of the Nibelheim massacre, Jenovaroth raises some doubts in his mind about Tifa, which eventually leads to the two of them having a little spat about it in Kalm.

Tifa shows Cloud the scar she received that night when she attempted to stab Sephiroth. Cloud takes that information in. Spool forward, and during the fight in the Gongaga reactor, Cloud effortlessly forgets about the scar and attacks Tifa. All because Jenovaroth used suggestion to mind-control Cloud and plant specific ideas.

The most fascinating aspect is that Cloud later regains memory of this event, but only as a passenger or passive observer. He is horrified when he sees his limbs act independently and sees himself move.

The scene made me rethink the previously held black-and-white belief that Sephiroth had found out „the truth“ in the Lifestream but CHOSE to act according to Jenova's will. I believe it's a much more of a grey area now, and various conflicting pieces of information from the extended compilation and old Ultimanias (and such like) really do not help it. Who is to say Jenova didn't do the same thing to Sephiroth? Changing his perception or ability to perceive in ways that benefited the creature, both before and after Nibelheim. To prevent certain pieces of information from being consciously processed, such as those of Jenova being a parasitic monster who wiped out the Cetra. Or, as you point out, the piece about the woman in the photo.

There's something else to think about. Sephiroth's physical body is eventually repaired with Jenova cells in the Northern Crater, resulting in a symbiotic/physical link. Who's to say her hold on his mind/spirit ever weakened? In fact, I'm not sure if the Sephiroth that emerges after Nibelheim is entirely Sephiroth who has lost his mind, or if it's a chimera. Not in the sense that the party encounters and fights bits and pieces of Jenova that shapeshift into Sephiroth, but in the sense that the consciousness that controls them isn't entirely Sephiroth's, as in he's not the sole driver (hence why I usually use „Jenovaroth“). Jenova „wears the faces of the dead“ per Cetra. I don't think it solely reflects the entity's ability to change its appearance, but something bigger. An ability to „become“ the subject it imitates by emulating their personal traits. After all, „she can peer deep into your soul“, in other words, to learn all that makes up a person.

Now this is just guesswork. However, the Remake — and quite possibly FS too now — appear to be oddly insistent on revising Jenova's abilities and related lore. Who knows what purpose it serves. But honestly, the very fact that Jenovaroth is capable of making someone “forget” or “ignore” certain knowledge they had by overriding it, like in case of Tifa’s scar, is truly terrifying.