#intentionally killing one's mother and one's father

[rosesapphire2323]

Technically I believe the actual characters used in Chinese are different...?

Just checked. They are.

(okay bear with me this is not an 'um actually' post)

The paradise in "Heart in paradise" is 桃源 (Táo Yuán), while "paradise manor" is written 极乐坊 (Jí Lè Fāng)

But the idea of 'tao yuan' and 'ji le' are almost? similar? I think? except they're also not Both are referring to a form of spiritual bliss. But 'tao yuan' (shortened version of 桃花源 – Táo Huā Yuán – which translates to 'Peach Blossom Spring') is referring to a utopia, built in some form of pocket universe existing at the end of a river, which a fisherman stumbles across, and learns that its people live on peacefully and blissfully unaware of the disunity and political disputes at that time (Jin dynasty) ever since the civil unrest during the Qin dynasty. 'Tao Yuan' is used often to refer to some sort of idealistic place of beauty and repose, or even used to refer to an unrealistic dream. It opposes "Abyss" in the beginning of the phrase, which is actually 'Avīci' (無間 or 'Wú Jiàn') which is the lowest level of Buddhist hell, except it doesn't oppose Avīci at all, because 'Tao Yuan' is a fantasy land.

But guess what does oppose Avīci.

'Ji Le' does. Or 'Sukhāvatī', the birth place of aspiring buddhas. yup, hua cheng went ahead and named the home he built for xie lian basically a birthplace for a god. the actual opposite of the aftermentioned abyss in his famous quote where the most damned of humans go to rot.

because he's a simp. he's a dweeb. he's more of a dweeb than you'd actually expect. you'd think the eng translation is going to give you the peak of his sense of romance but nope. it's actually the Chinese one.

Hua Cheng is such a dweeb, like wdym your crush’s famous line is “body in abyss, heart in paradise” and you go on and name the house (located in the literal abyss) that you want to bring your heart home to “Paradise Manor.” Fuckin nerd.

[eeldritchblast]

Some misc. Wyll facts I collected while browsing his dialogue files like a madman

If Wyll dies and you ask his corpse what is ultimate goal is, his response is "Freedom from Mizora".

Wyll's mother died when he was born. Growing up, he was so close with his father that he never felt like he needed anyone else, but as an adult, he's questioned what it might have been like had she lived.

Wyll does not consider himself a man of faith - in fact, he resents "the so-called good gods for tolerating the curelty of the evil" - but rather believes "the faith that matters is that which you hold in yourself, in the ones that most matter to you."

More than one devnote reveals Wyll intentionally tries to downplay his emotions. Example: "Not too sad outwardly even though he is."

Wyll's father trained him how to use a rapier, sword, and bow.

Wyll uses "a light spritz from a vial of jasmine dust" as perfume.

Wyll considered dukes to be hypocritcal for their diplomacy with bad people.

When Wyll was a young boy, he was smitten by Stelmane.

When Wyll was eight, he snuck into the Counting House to see if the rumours of mythical treasure it held were true. The guard spotted him and took him straight back to his father.

When Wyll was fourteen, he had his first alcoholic beverage, and got so tipsy from wine that he puked in Dillard Portyr's bushes.

Wyll had his first kiss in The Blushing Mermaid when he was fifteen.

Wyll claims he's spent some time in the Underdark in his adventures as the Blade.

Wyll says he's killed a vampire-spawn before, when Player!Astarion confesses he's one himself.

Wyll claims his toughest kill was a minotaur, and one of his scars is from the battle.

Seven years prior to the game, he made his pact with Mizora to defeat the Cult of the Dragon, and was disowned and exiled from Baldur's Gate by his father. He was seventeen at the time.

Five years prior to the game, he took on the mantle of the Blade of Frontiers, after rescuing a child from a band of goblin attackers near the Cloakwood.

Karlach calls Wyll her best friend.

[tossawary]

"Fullmetal Alchemist"'s use of fantasy elements is interesting to me because of the way it... reduces... certain horrors to these unflinchingly direct basics. (Warning for spoilers and unorganized overview discussion of canon-typical violence.)

Like, the violence and pain is depicted in hideous, nightmarish detail, and/but the pursuit of power at the expense of other people's lives is simplified at the climax into an equation so straightforward that it hurts. All previous prizes of land and resources, which are forms of power, have been stolen by the Amestris military by way of terrible, hateful bloodshed. Father's Promised Day array then throws all that aside, throws it onto the fire, and takes a step further to directly exchange human lives for godlike power.

Another example is that Roy Mustang is not permitted the false distance of a bomb, but has the effect of one using his own two hands. The result is the same, but State Alchemists are not permitted separation from their tools: they ARE the weapons of war. A gun is nothing without someone to hold it. It really underlined to me that if Roy HAD used bombs instead of alchemy, it still would have been his hands that killed an unimaginable number of people.

I don't think FMA is above criticism, but this specific aspect felt to me an incredibly effective narrative tool, especially because things like "our military was created from the beginning to do evil" are accompanied by / backed up by normal humans knowingly going along with Father's plans out of greed and fear, as well as normal humans supporting the country's crimes out of idealism and fear and hatred and selfishness and confusion. It's not just "oh, it was inhuman monsters secretly manipulating everything from the shadows all along"; it's "oh, it was inhuman monsters secretly manipulating everything, representative of humanity's most deadly sins, appealing to our most selfish desires and basic fears, and we all WENT ALONG with it".

From the very first chapters, all of the friendly adult characters were directly saying things like, "Edward, you shouldn't be a part of the military. It's corrupt. I have killed innocent people for nothing and it haunts me." In the final battle, inside the command building, the Armstrong siblings and their allies are straight-up fighting against mindless, starving, created soldiers that kill everything they come up against and stop for nothing. The fascist Amestris military, after years of violent, fabricated conquest and violent, inhumane research, is EATING ITSELF FROM THE INSIDE.

And, of course, the characters cannot use their magic system to escape reality: the Elric siblings cannot undo their mother's death. Life is so incredibly precious because some things cannot be undone. And grief and arrogance allowed to run rampant takes heavy tolls on Edward, Alphonse, and Izumi's bodies.

The only way to miss the messaging in FMA, to have the point go over your head, is to intentionally duck it, because the author is throwing it at your face like a brick. Repeatedly. There are so many bricks. It's not subtle. And I enjoyed it.

[celaenaeiln]

I want to talk about Dick Grayson's beauty, sex symbol status, and how it all connects for a moment.

This is a prelude to an upcoming post but I needed to include this separately because the other was getting too big.

First of all Dick Grayson is a beautiful man.

And you're probably thinking "well, no duh. Everyone knows that." but what I mean is Dick Grayson was intentionally made to be beautiful.

For a little historical context, around the late 1950s the culture in the US was changing. It was around this time, that people began exploring and accepting what they called a "feminine man".

This was really taking place in cinema and stuff where they began to show softer versions of men doing "typically female roles" as heroes.

One example is the movie "The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance", a 1962 Hollywood film. In summary, it takes place in the midwest and is centered about Cowboys, gunslingers, the shebang. But the point is, there are two male leads in the movie - Ranse Stoddard (played by Jimmy Stewart) and Tom Donophon (played by John Wayne). Ranse and Tom are both the heroes in the film but with a key difference. Tom is like the sheriff of the town, loved by all and focusing his time on practicing his gun skills. The savior of women and normal people, he's the typical masculine hero. His face is rough and handsome. Ranse however was the new wave. He doesn't care about carrying the gun, he thinks it's uncouth and focuses much of his attention on sending the evil guy (Liberty Valance) to jail through laws. He doesn't want to kill and he takes a more advocative approach. He is also loved by everyone despite not being super masculine. Ranse's face is clean and almost dainty in comparison to Tom and Liberty Valance's.

Despite the complete opposites they are, both men are considered heroes. On one hand, you have the very male typical hero but on the other hand, you have the feminine male hero. At one point the evil guy laughs when Ranse walks in wearing an apron because serving tables is a "woman's job", but Ranse doesn't let it bother him.

How does this connect to Dick Grayson?

Dick Grayson is the feminine hero of DC. DC jumped on the pretty boy hero train.

That's also why in the Teen Titans (1966) comics, Dick keeps being referred to by endearingly feminine pet names by the titans which they seem to only use on him.

Standard gender roles: Men were expected to be strong, aggressive, and bold while women were expected to be polite, accommodating, and nurturing. Sound familiar about a certain duo?

But Dick? He plays both male and female gender roles in a time period where it wasn't socially acceptable to do so.

So my point is, Dick was created to blur the lines between gender and the way his character has progressed - he's meant to be the definition of a man opposite to male toxicity.

He can cook and do laundry whereas Bruce, the image of male dominance cannot.

This also falls into another role of Bruce and Dick's but it applies here as well in hindsight.

One thing people need to understand is that Dick was created to be the antithesis of Bruce Wayne. For all the gloominess that Bruce is Dick was meant to be the joy. He is the light to Bruce's darkness.

Which is why Dick often acts as the loving mother to the batfamily while Bruce acts as the stern father. Because Dick was created for the female role.

Part of the reason why I love Dick and Kory is because they do this at a time where girlbossing and malewifing wasn't a thing. Kori is consistently the dominant one when it comes to love in their relationship while Dick plays a softer, more "wife like" role. The way Kori is taller than Dick and buffer than him ✨

He is quite literally a queen consort - that is the role that Kori begs him to take after she is forced to marry someone her father picks out for her. But Dick refuses in tears because his morality cannot bear becoming a mistress and ruining someone else's marriage.

I know this is a long tangent but here's where the sex symbol comes in. Dick was created to be the most beautiful figure in DC but him being beautiful is not supposed to be confused with him being objectified.

Being beautiful is just something he was born as. What people do as a result has nothing to with DC

Take this for instance

He's literally just showering and comes out of the shower to find a random little girl singing about his and batman's identities. Creepy? Yes. Very much so. So he chases after her and finds her gone. Well there's nothing he can do now, he needs to go back and analyze what's going on and contact the other titans-

Crap.

Look at all the women that are ogling him, and even the ginger looks as if he doesn't know if he's jealous or wants to join - but there's nothing Dick did to make them do that. He's literally minding his own business and got caught outside. Did he hit on the women? Did he seduce them? Did he purposefully show off and make a loud commotion because he wanted the attention? No!

Arguing that Dick Grayson shouldn't be a sex symbol just seems wrong to me considering that it's not a fault of his.

It's like telling Kori not to have large breasts and telling Dinah not to wear fishnets.

People still ogle them regardless of how they dress because they're just that attractive. You can't tell someone to look a different way because you don't like the attention they're receiving...that's literally the opposite of everything people should be fighting for

Arguing that Dick Grayson being a sex symbol is a problem because he's too beautiful and blaming the actions of other characters for thinking so is just...

it's wrong.

He was created to be beautiful to fight male toxic masculinity. He's woman coded for a reason.

We should be embracing him. He represents everything male freedom should be about. He constantly placed in a female role, in female positions-

In queer positions-

He's acrobatic, slender, and sensual. He's gentle, loving, and beautiful.

When has the beauty of a person ever been a reflection of their character? The way fandom is going, it's implying that because female characters make sexualized comments about Dick's body, it's somehow Dick's fault for looking that way. We're blaming him for his "womanizing" ways as if he hasn't put his heart and soul into every relationship he's had. And while we're busy calling him a womanizer, we conveniently forget that the women he's in relationships with have significant personalities of their own. We inadvertently reduce their beings to plastic bags, ignoring that they have broken up with each other because of being unable to resolve conflicting beliefs, different career paths, different lifestyles, and more. It's not a one way road with our treatment of Dick. It's a two way street because we're harming both Dick and strong women like Kori, Barbara, Bea, Shawn, and Helena by pretending what they believe in and live for is unimportant in love.

Instead we should be exploring how the objectification might have an impact on Dick's mental health rather than blaming DC for using characters to describe how hot Dick is.

All the beautiful traits of Dick Grayson - his ambiguous sexuality, his overwhelming love for people, his affection for his friends, the way he cries and feels for others - all of it is beautiful, is it not?

From his very creation Dick was meant to be someone who breaks gender roles. The constant attraction he receives from both men and women in all of DC's media is evidence of that. The Grayson comics push the boundaries of his sexuality as much as DC will allow. To be queer without coming out with it. He is the feminine hero.

Everyone seems to hate that he's being called a sex symbol but why does that bother you? Dick Grayson IS the pretty girl of the comic universe. He IS the babygirl of DC.

DC has created the perfect view of what it's like to be a woman through Dick Grayson and we're spitting on the most accurate representation of a female that comics have ever created by blaming them for expressing what it's like to live as a woman.

[slickfordain]

Arlecchino x GN!reader | Mother

Wholesome-themed, fragile!weak!reader, reader is NOT strong/I do not write strong readers, Arlecchino is father, you’re “mother” (doesn’t matter what gender you are you’re still mother), I don’t write top/dom readers, only bottom/sub

“Is that… A crimson moon..?”

Lumine, who was at her frozen moment, trembled upon— not the harbinger— but the moon in the background, as if she recognized that background from a flashback she had…

Before she could even react however, her soft gasp escapes her lips— once Arlecchino flash-forwarded towards the traveler, her cold gaze glaring down at the “little” girl who wasn’t as strong as she was.

With the woman’s hand reaching out, she was sure to take a hold of the traveler’s shoulder to at least end the fight— to even tell the traveler that she isn’t that strong, but, with Lumine frozen in fear and Lyney calling out for his Father, something happened that caused Arlecchino’s actions to suddenly falter.

“!!” With the traveler alerted, Arlecchino winced once her ear was pulled by her….

Spouse…

“Arlecchino the Knave! What is the meaning of this?!”

There you were, saving everyone’s lives unintentionally by pulling on the woman’s ear, making Arlecchino falter her form back to her outfit and grunt in a small “pain”. Lynette widened her eyes, and Lumine looked so lost and confused…

“Mother?!” Freminet stammered out, making Paimon shriek. “What?! Mother?!?” Paimon looked so pale she immediately fainted, if it weren’t for the traveler catching Paimon in her arms. “Paimon…!” The traveler was free from the hardened strings…. She looked up to take a good look at you…

You were a person with [Hair color] hair color…. Your figure wasn’t strong, nor did it look as if you could survive anything… So— how did you manage to drag the Knave’s ear so easily? Was it purposely? Did the Knave know this upsets you that she gave in?

“Young woman you better explain this instant, or I’m not letting you sleep on the bed, but the couch!” You insisted with an annoyed face expression, the Knave who was so tough in front of others- suddenly softening her gaze again and even gave a small “gasp”. “Oh… My love, you couldn’t possibly mean that…” She coo’ed, cupping your cheeks gently. “No no no, it’s all a mistake, I wouldn’t kill them… You know that— the kids were just training with the famous traveler…”

Arlecchino side eyed the children almost immediately, even the traveler.

“Isn’t that right, children?”

“A-Ah…” Freminet winced slightly backwards, but the three siblings positioned themselves in a straight line. Lowering their heads down. “Y.. Yes of course, Father did not harm us…” Lyney expressed, although it was false.

You raised an eyebrow, before smiling with a gentle ease. “Hm~ oh, was that so?” You let go of Arlecchino’s ear, in return, Arlecchino resisted on showering her beloved with gentle kisses. “My apologies… I must’ve gotten carried away then…” You sighed, placing a hand on your hip, introducing yourself to the traveler… While the NPCs, the family who were attacked, backed away in slight fear.

“My name is [Name], my “husband” has told me so much about you, dear traveler…!”

You stuck out your hand, having the most gentlest smile.. It made Lumine a bit scared how on Earth did you manage to marry a psychopath who could kill anyone if she wanted to… Perhaps Arlecchino didn’t truly mean anything intentionally…?

Even though Lumine didn’t like being called a kid since she’s like billion years of her age— It was completely fine somehow.

You looked so nice too… She’d be asking for a death wish if she made one single wrong move with you.

“I’m… I’m the traveler, yes, nice to meet you too… [Name]…”

Lumine shakes your hand in return, carefully and not too long— instantly removing her hand from yours which made Arlecchino hum in amusement…. But then flinched when you suddenly pulled her ear again. “Oh— Oh dear, what is it now…?”

“You still haven’t returned home in 5 minutes.”

You deadpanned, making Arlecchino suddenly remember she promised you that…. Oh no. “A-Ah— m-mother wait!— Ow ow ow!” Lyney and Freminet hissed in pain, Lynette grumbling and squirming as the children followed you in a tow, your one hand singularly tugging them around so forcefully.

“H-Huh? Already?! Hey wait!!” Paimon awoke, floating on the sky already to try chasing you, but stopped. “But what about that battle we had?!”

…

“I don’t think it’s any use, Paimon…” Lumine uttered with a trembling body… Arlecchino’s eyes- they reminded her of something she saw in a flashback with Dainsleif….

But… She didn’t want to think too deeply about it… And her arm…. It’s almost similarly to Dainsleif’s cursed arm….

[valtsv]

i would love to hear more of your thoughts on michael shelley!!! 🌀🚪✨

you're in luck because i've sat on thoughts about him for years and i finally feel like i can articulate them. because michael shelley is such a well written case of tragic horror in the horror tragedy podcast. and, despite my criticisms of season 5, it really did do an excellent job in concluding his character arc with the gertrude backstory episode. in a podcast where a common in-universe theme is that knowledge, and the pursuit of knowledge, is dangerous, michael is a subversion in that his ignorance of the horrors of the world he lived in not only didn't save him, but was intentionally engineered to make him vulnerable to exploitation and harm (which, on a broader scope, emphasises the futility of the world of the magnus archives - regardless of whether you participate in or turn a blind eye to the systems at play, involved or uninvolved, you are not safe).

furthermore, i really appreciate the subversion of traditional tropes of the sacrifice as a typically female figure taken advantage of by a male father, brother, or lover, whose tragic and horrible death is used to motivate him (whether to greatness or self-destruction), with michael being a son sacrificed by his mother (or grandmother) figure, who never actually loved him and whose 'frail' and 'nurturing' qualities were weaponised incompetence used to gaslight and manipulate him - and who continues to operate successfully (at least in terms of what can be said to be 'success' in a world like the magnus archives) without being haunted by any apparent doubt about the decision she made, or any hesitation to use others in similar ways, following this betrayal. which makes the fact that he's sewn into the fabric of a being that represents lies in their most insidious form, used as a weapon to devour people and destroy their lives, all the more abhorrent in hindsight - he is forced to not only relive his trauma in an endless loop (or spiral, if you will), but to become the mechanism which enables it. michael is taken to the edge of something evil (at least from a human perspective), and pushed over the threshold with no hope of recourse. there's almost a reverse orphic quality to it - he descends into terrifying other world, one which exists side-by-side with but fundamentally seperate from his own, against his will, and looking back will only cause him pain as he's assaulted by memories of a life he will never be able to reach.

i think a lot of people forget to look past the surface with michael, despite there being an entire episode dedicated to doing so. which is understandable, he's a very outwardly expressive character - but this is intentional obfuscation to hide an incredibly damaged victim whose hatred of this part of himself is integral to his entire reason for being, and which the rejection of causes him to be unmade, incapable of existing as this contradictory nightmare any longer. it's a mercy killing, and yet it is violent and painful, because michael cannot and should not exist, and excising that graft used to muzzle the distortion is as agonising as latching it into place was in the first place. when michael-the-distortion says about michael shelley "he was born. he was pointless. and he should have died." there is an implicit longing there, a rage at the way he was used, his decisions made for him and used to imprison something else instead of ever being allowed to exercise any measure of free will. because michael shelley probably would have died for the archivist, given the opportunity, but he never got the choice.

[loggiepj]

To Love A Lannister

chapter 10 | chapter 11

Rhaella Targaryen. Wife of the Mad King Aerys II. Mother of Queen Daenerys across the Narrow Sea. The Dragons.

You had read about her in scrolls and books when you were still young. Rhaella was unhappily married to her brother Aerys II. They were both forced into marriage due to a prophecy that came from a witch, making her resent being a Targaryen. The prophecy said they would give birth to a 'prince that was promised'. Through time when the King went mad, Rhaella had been abused endlessly, imprisoned in her own chambers. For all you knew, she was glad Targaryens were finally removed from existence.

It would explain how your father had insisted you to study the ancient language High Valyrian throughout your life, how he trained you to fight, how he encaged you as your own protection as if you were someone other than his daughter.

You listened to Oberyn share more about what happened when your mother brought you to him. You were still three years old when you first rode the Dornish ship. That was why you could remember slivers of memory being in the Citadel, the streets in the Capital, platinum white hair entangled through your fingers and the vast sea with huge waves when you were young.

Three years later spending under your father's care, you remembered Elia being murdered, her children killed as well.

Now as you faced the Mountain standing on the other side of the pit, the one who was ordered to kill Elia, made you grit your teeth from fury.

It only stopped when the Lannisters and Tyrells walked past through your side to give you good luck for the fight. Tywin nodded back at you, remembering your brief conversation with him earlier that morning together with Oberyn — offering Yronwood castle to set Cersei free from any arrangement.

"You're a fool," Cersei muttered as she intentionally left herself behind others. The crowd had already gathered on the stands around the pit, cheering and booing at Tyrion or The Mountain. You only bowed your head. "Tell me, Y/n. Why does my brother deserve this?"

"He didn't kill your son, Cersei," you said. "And I know terrible things have happened to you to make your heart forever cold, but it doesn't mean there's no kindness left in this world and your brother deserves it too. You deserve it as well."

She swallowed nervously before she abruptly pulled you into a tight embrace, making others look away.

"I . . . I can't lose you too, Y/n," Cersei whispered into your chest, rendering you speechless. She may had heard how loud your heart was beating from your chest.

When she pulled away, her eyes were red, glistening with tears. Does she really care for you or is it for the crowd, knowing you two are engaged?

You felt her hand tugging against your hips, realizing she was placing a small dagger in your belt. You doubted the small weapon could help you defeat The Mountain, but the gesture made you want to kiss the woman.

You looked at Cersei and see her hard gaze, the clutch she had on your hand felt like she didn't want to let you go. Even her father Tywin has already called for her. And she still hesitated. "I . . . I lo—"

The sound of the horn signaling the event made her pull away. "You better come back to me alive."

Your eyes followed Cersei as she walked away, longing for the fight to be over and finally talk to her. Ask her if she meant it. That you weren't just imagining it. That she had almost said she loved you too.

Shaking your head, you headed towards Tyrion near the pit. You could see Oberyn and Ellaria looking all worried from a distance.

"You know, if you die, Cersei will kill me herself," Tyrion said, making you laugh nervously. "Although, I know you Vipers are fast, so I think it's an advantage," he then glanced at you from head to foot, "Wait, you're only wearing that? No armor? Have you lost your mind when you were flirting with Cersei?"

"Armors are heavy, they make your actions slow," you said back, smiling at him.

This made Tyrion lose his balance as he almost fainted. "I'm going to die," he declared in a low voice, talking to no one in particular.

Ignoring Tyrion's ongoing monologues, you moved forward unto the pit while one of the Dornishmen soldiers approached you to provide you with your weapon — a long spear with a sharp steel point as a spearhead. Your very own weapon.

Your eyes trailed to Gregor, The Mountain, and you couldn't help but feel overwhelmed with his massive sword placed in the ground in front of him, a six-foot-long blade. His enormous hands with gauntlets was probably the reason why Tyrion was terrified for you.

The Mountain was completely covered with steel armor, you would need to figure out his weakest points. Whereas your outfit consisted only of leather and flowing silks, a trademark of Dorne.

Your eyes then darted towards the stands as a round steel shield was placed on your other arm.

You could see Cersei's troubled face sitting beside her son Tommen, holding his hand to keep herself grounded. And as if she knew you were looking, her eyes met yours in a longing stare you two didn't dare to look away until you had to.

When another horn was blown as a signal to start the fight, you moved forward swiftly, while The Mountain advanced towards you, his feet almost shaking the ground as he moved.

"Do you remember Elia Martell,  Princess of Dorne?" you began, moving to the side as he attempted to attack you with his sword.

"Some dead woman," he grunted.

The answer only made you upset as you thrusted your long spear forward. However, Gregor had deflected the point with his shield, pushing it aside, and charging at you once again with his sword.

You spun away unscathed. You lunged forward your weapon, but The Mountain slashed at it, causing you to pull it back and thrust once more. Metal shrieked against metal as the spearhead skidded off the Mountain's chest, cutting through the latter's coat, leaving a long scratch on the skin underneath.

"You raped her," you went on, watching the man hiss in pain. "You murdered her. Then you killed her children."

Gregor grunted as he made a slow, heavy charge to strike at your head, but you saw it coming as you easily evaded the attack.

You kept on circling, jabbing and then swiftly withdrawing, which made it hard for the larger man to foresee your next move. The Mountain struggled to keep sight of you so you skillfully took this advantage, leveraging both the reach of your spear and your own speed.

"You raped her," you said. "You murdered her. You killed her children."

"Did you come here to talk or to fight?" The Mountain groaned, as you managed to hit him again.

"I came to hear you confess."

The battle continued like this for what felt like an eternity. You moved back and forth across the yard, circling each other in spirals. Gregor swung his sword at the air while your spear struck his arms, legs, and even twice at his forehead. Gregor's large wooden shield took numerous hits. Yours didn't fare well, making you let it fall to the ground.

"You raped her!" You deflected a brutal swing with your spear and quickly thrusted the spearpoint towards The Mountain's eyes, causing the massive man to flinch. "You murdered her!" The spear then flicked sideways and downward, scraping against the Mountain's breastplate. "You killed her children!" With its length—two feet longer than Gregor's sword—the spear kept him at an awkward distance.

He swung at the spear shaft whenever you lunged, attempting to sever the spearhead, but it was as ineffective as you were faster than him.

Gregor charged straight into the spear's point, which drove into his right breast and then scraped aside with a terrible, screeching sound of metal. Now that the Mountain was close enough to strike, his massive sword flashed to strike towards you.

The crowd gasped. But you managed to dodge the first blow and released his grip on the spear, however the Mountain was already so close.

His hand shot up and seized you behind the knee. You swung at his sword wildly, but it was of no use as the sword was quickly abandoned. Gregor's grip tightened and twisted around your leg, pulling you down onto him. You both tumbled unto the ground, the shattered spear swaying back and forth.

"Stop it! Stop the fight!" you heard Cersei's voice overpowering from the crowd. Or maybe you were only imagining it.

The Mountain encircled you with one massive arm, pressing you close to his chest as though embracing you tenderly. And you couldn't breathe.

Then he threw you unto the ground like a doll before he punched your face so hard, you thought you'd blacked out, your head turning to the side where you could see The Lannisters against the dust. Cersei was on her feet, screaming in agony as she was being held back by the Kingsguard.

Gregor's hand wrapped around your neck, making you look back at your attacker.

As his grip tightened, everything flashed before you. Rhaella Targaryen. Doran. Cersei.

Cersei. And then you remembered the dagger she placed earlier into your belt. Your hand knowingly pulled out the weapon and used whatever was left from your energy to slash the blade against the skin of Gregor's throat, his blood spewing into your face.

The Mountain's grip loosened and his body fell limply unto you, heavy weight pressing unto your body. The crowd went silent as they witnessed the bloody scene.

You managed to lift your hand to the side and raise a thumbs up to the crowd, making them erupt in cheers.

And it was all black after that.

[melodyglow-blog]

Why i think Dabi / Touya is still alive after chapter 430

#spoilers ahead

Ok first of all,this shit was so ass, i dont even wanna think about how the final chapter looks like it was set in a dark AU ending where nothing changes and rei looks older than ever, still pushing enjis wheelchair for the past 8 years🤮, shoto being a workaholic (and soon being num ONE). Shouldnt he be more focused on his friendships??

Plus, no mention of his siblings that his arc has been working on reconnecting him with. 🤮 So like...Enji won? Shoto will be number one after all wtff..

But id rather think about the fact that touya could still be alive after the timeskip. Here are a few reasons why..

No gravestone shown, no image of a shrine or a burial, hell..no mention of his death AT ALL unlike with toga or shigaraki, erasers friend and midnight...hell, deku even hallucinates shiggy. If touya was truly dead i feel like we wouldve seen a panel of his shrine or ANY indication if his death.

Society and tech have improved so much that quirkless deku can be a hero, so theres no way that touya, with a partial healing ice quirk isnt kept alive.

He was last shown to be 'slowly marching towards death' like BITCH thats literally what being alive is, we are all slowly marching towards death😭

This man is allergic to dying and i do believe that hori left his outcome ambiguous for a reason, if hori wanted to show touya dead he 100% would.

Shoto smiling..like bro would be smiling like that after his oldest brother passed away, like i said, intentionally hori is avoiding any mention of Touya, even natuso is not shown or mentioned, just that shoto has become a workaholic and on his way to being number one...

Plus the panel text is from Deku's pov. So its not todoroki's internal monolouge thats revealed, only his expression and hopefully thats an indicator that his siblings are ok.

Hori has 100% lost the plot lmao, the ending is so convoluted and out of character that theres simply no in universe reason why Touya would be straight up dead. Making shoto mention his father instead of his brothers or sister or MOTHER was certainly a choice🤮🤮🤮.

Old rei pushing enjis wheelchair is sickening and i dont wanna believe that shes still his maid if she has had to mourn touya a second time, its gross and literally a dark au cause wtf.

Since none of shotos siblings were mentioned, this empty space of detail lets us assume that shoto isnt stressing about them. If touya was dead we would see him visiting his shrine, in japanese culture, visiting gravestones and praying to shrines of the dead is symbollic.

I firmly believe that hori either got seriously sick (he said his ears were leaking fluid) or got pressured by his team (he said he cried when his management made him scrap an extra comic page he drew of dabi and sceptic on the past) , i believe that at this point, he didnt have a lot of creative control over his work and wasnt allowed to dedicate more panels to the LOV. HE HAD to prioritise enji and the characters at the top of the poll. When touya came 4th on the final poll, it was too late, his story became enji's story even though hori confessed that he had initially written enji to be killed off in the high end nomu fight.

The story is such a retconned mess, theres no way he wasnt planning shiggy and touya to be SAVED physically, literally touyas last panel is of him crying alone lmaoo.

IN BOTH of Horikoshi's previous serialized series the villains lived and got to reform and atone at the end..

But yeah, my end verdict is that hori intentionally didnt mention touya for the fans to theorise about him living💀

BONUS ~ i saw a post mentioning this, There is also a throwaway panel of the Doctor "curing the uncurable" - which could refer to Touya

[saerins]

─── 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄

+ gojo x f!reader | wc 2.3k | content: modern au, fluff, slight angst, rich!gojo, rich!reader, arranged marriage but reversed(?), slightly suggestive

notes: haha i was exploring tropes and this just came to me :’) fairly nervous so feedbacks and reblogs appreciated muwah <3

summary: sometimes you think that you and gojo are not meant to be. and sometimes, he itches to prove you wrong.

there are many things you would call gojo satoru. partner in crime, friendship on fire, a twisted manifestation of the kind of romance that would consume you whole if you didn’t take precaution.

“ready to do this, baby?”

he’s as sweet-lipped as ever, the honeyed words overflowing from his tongue. how you’d miss it, those words you hear at night, the saccharine praises that send you into overdrive.

“only if you are, sweetie.”

you’re equally good at it, having learned from one of the best—gojo satoru himself. you smirk at him, straightening his suit and tie. he looks devilishly handsome in that tailored suit, the one you had made for him. if you recall correctly, he only saves it for a special occasion.

and it qualifies—today is definitely a special occasion.

“so happy to be getting rid of me?” satoru asks you, pouting and putting on his best puppy eyes. his white lashes house a sea of crystalline blue, the kind you’ve gotten addicted to, the same pair you’d gotten lost in many times over.

you’ll never forget it.

the way satoru’s lips ghost over your own. the way his index finger trails up the side of your arm. he likes the goosebumps that sear across your skin. satoru loves knowing the effect he has on you.

this marriage of convenience has taken its toll on both your families. in hindsight, they should’ve known that they can’t control either of you. the gojo family, for all they’re worth, thought that gojo satoru would never betray their money, their status. and your family—they’d always known you’d objected to these notions; convenience, business, romance—the way these three intertwine intentionally, a manufactured relationship borne out of familial ties.

it’s bullshit.

how lucky for you, that gojo satoru felt the same. he still feels the same, which is why he’s in front of you right now, getting ready to drop the bomb in the investors’ meeting.

his father is sure to kill him, but that’s provided he can get through you first.

sure, getting married to gojo satoru was not in your life plans. your mother had chosen a very apt timing to tempt you, quoting half a million dollars as the condition for getting and staying married to that gojo boy. and sure, she can do her best to try and haggle that money back from you once the both of you are done with today, but you’re guessing she’ll be facing much more important and pressing matters than simply getting money back from her defiant daughter.

“this is what we discussed, satoru,” you sigh, avoiding his question like he knew you would. “one year, that’s all we needed. and look where we are now.”

satoru smiles, pearly whites and bad boy charm. “i’d miss you in my bed at night though.”

you smack him playfully across his chest. he only chuckles lowly, fondly, his right hand on your head, brushing your hair. it almost makes you want to stay. but that wasn’t part of the deal, and you’re not sure that either you or satoru are ready for commitments.

“must’ve been some pretty good sex to make the gojo satoru miss me, huh?” you play along, pushing yourself away gently, your hand on his chest.

satoru tips your chin up with his finger, looking you in the eyes as he tells you, “babe, you’re the best pussy i’ve ever had.”

complete romantic, as you can tell. (you can’t stop his vulgar tongue even if you tried.)

“okay okay, stop stalling, satoru,” you chide him, holding your palm out, smiling as he takes it. “got the evidence?”

satoru holds a thick envelope out, grinning. “all here.”

the two of you stand outside the conference room for a minute, staring at each other. in another world, maybe you’d be in this hotel with gojo satoru where you’re actually married—for feelings rather than a transaction. in that other world, maybe you and gojo satoru were childhood sweethearts, the kind where you grew old without all the fucked up relationships that branded both of you too overwhelmed to be in a real one right now. hey, maybe in that world, maybe just maybe, that vow that gojo satoru had uttered on your wedding day (the same that you had uttered as well)—maybe he would’ve meant it.

you didn’t think you would come to like gojo satoru. it’s been a long time since you’d first met him. when you’d seen him stomping into the meeting room of your company’s office like he owned the place, like everyone there was beneath him. he’d gotten right under your skin then and there.

getting along was no easy feat. it took three months for the both of you to agree to live together. strangely it took just one night for you both to give in to temptation once you did start living together.

both of you are menaces—that’s what your mother would say.

somehow, somewhere, those feelings you thought you’d never feel before blossomed again. the kind of trust you didn’t think you’d ever give was given to satoru and you wonder if he even knows it. but satoru has never changed his stance on relationships since the first time you met him; they’re a waste of time.

“you know, if you wanna keep me, all you gotta do is say so.” satoru’s looking at you, that jester smile plastered on his face. you can’t see his beautiful eyes when it’s all crinkled up like that, but you thank god for that. you don’t know how you’d resist him if you could see them.

“dream on, satoru,” you deflect, and expertly. you’re great at hiding your real feelings like that. “our deal ends today.”

yeah, the deal the two of you made with each other, right when both families thought their children had made peace with their decision, or their fate, as they liked to call it. neither you nor gojo felt any affection for the family you grew up in, not when they’d never took interest in either of you as anything other than an heir. when both your childhoods were filled with extra readings and learning proper manners. when satoru grew up learning from his father that women were just a means to a child and you’d grown up learning from your mother that if a girl is not beautiful then she is not desirable. you remember how she almost disowned you for getting a scar on your face, even though it was only temporary.

she has a penchant for the overdramatics. you think today might be no different. you hope not. the entire aim of today is to bring about the crumble of two empires—gojo’s and your family’s.

to hell with their money and their dirty syndicates. it’s filthy money they have their hands full with, and frankly, you and satoru are done playing their pawns.

as satoru leads the way, you loop your arm around his elbow, watching as his father is taken completely off-guard when he watches his own son expose his schemes, watching as your own parents try to salvage the situation by saying how children these days would do anything to get out of their responsibilities.

they’re all walking ironies.

you both watch as the investors walk out one by one, outraged and disappointed. you watch as satoru’s own father vows to kill him, and you scoff as your own mother seconds his notion.

“not if the law gets you first,” you tell them, effectively shutting them up as they hear the police sirens in the air.

they spew about how the both of you are pieces of shit as they’re taken away, and you find you couldn’t care less. maybe it’s a little inhuman of you not to feel a thing when you watch your parents getting taken away in handcuffs. but then again, they’d never really treated you like a human either.

“here you go,” satoru chirps as the sirens drown into the background. he holds out another envelope, this one solely for you.

you smile, a melancholy washing over you as you take it from his hands and take the documents out, flipping to the last page where satoru has already signed.

“our divorce papers,” you coo, “how romantic.”

because gojo satoru is always a romantic.

he remembers your birthday and remembers your favourite cake. he remembers what you need when you’re upset, never makes you feel alone. he remembers how you like your eggs and purposely cooks them wrong all the time. he remembers how you take your coffee and always gives you tea. he remembers how you always nag at him for annoying you and then annoy you some more because for some reason you look very attractive when you’re angry.

it takes you a minute to sign your own name. it kind of feels lonely now, thinking how you’ll never go back to the same apartment as satoru. how you won’t see him sprawled out on the couch, pouting because you’re a little late for movie night. how you won’t catch him staring at your body as you get changed. how you won’t get to throw your pillows at him in the morning for tickling you in bed just to get you to wake up.

after all—you’d agreed; these affections were temporary like they were always meant to be.

you can’t help but find yourself wishing for more. but you were raised to be ruthless, not stupid. you won’t let satoru know of your feelings, because all your deductions say that nothing good will come of it.

“hmm,” satoru hums as he eyes your signature. “wouldn’t be opposed to a special arrange—”

“not gonna be your fuckbuddy, satoru,” you deadpan at him, flicking his forehead.

“why not?” he whines, and you nearly cave.

because you can’t risk falling further than you already have when there’s absolutely zero chance of satoru catching you.

“because there’s a long line of guys i wanna date and you should get in line first,” you lie, and satoru smirks like he’s caught on to something.

but if he has, he doesn’t say a thing, and that tells you everything you need to know.

“guess this is it then, l/n y/n?”

you don’t want it to be, but it has to.

“you made a great fake real husband, gojo satoru,” you tell him, shaking his hand.

kind of a lame goodbye for two people who had shared everyday together for the past year. but you think maybe this brief goodbye should suffice. you don’t want the flames to burn either of you blue.

gojo satoru doesn’t say another word when you turn to leave.

and you don’t turn to look back at him as you walk away.

some chapters of your life should come to a close. your chapter with gojo satoru should remain here, kept close in your heart, kept warm as memories should.

six months later.

“i just think you and i would be suited for other people.”

it’s funny, how everything never works out between you and other guys. you don’t recall it being so hard with satoru. perhaps he was truly made for you, like the heavens designed. but both of you were too similar, too afraid of commitment. nothing was going to come out of it anyway.

and maybe that’s why you miss it.

his fleeting glances, soft lips on tender skin and a pair of calm blue that never fails to mesmerise you.

satoru is the fleeting kind of romance that burns so bright in its prime and the kind you can never keep close. not when he isn’t willing to tone it down and when you don’t have the tolerance to match.

strangely, maybe that’s also why you’re still drawn to him. you’re still hoping that there will be a flaw in the design, that your seemingly parallel lines will intersect somehow. that maybe you won’t have to try and replace him with someone else.

“yeah, kento, i get it,” you tell nanami, sipping on your tea as you watch him get up and go.

you and nanami would not have worked out anyway. not when you’re way too fucked up and he’s comparibly normal. it would be too much for him. you would be too much for him. you stare at the tea in front of you. you kind of miss those dates satoru took you on; trespassing on private property and reliving youth in arcades.

satoru is everything—love, heartache, gambles, sins. both of you are spun from the same thread, and maybe you believe that if soulmates exist, you and him have the same red thread twirled around your pinkies.

though, the fact that he isn’t here simply proves you to be wrong.

last you’d heard, satoru was travelling the world, carefree and spreading his wings like you always knew he would.

you find yourself wishing that perhaps, somehow, you’d meet him again. but you sigh and get up, knowing you are far too old for this wishful thinking.

but where you’d thought that satoru was roaming, you forget that he’s much like a swallow. because now, when you turn around, you catch that same shade of ocean blue staring straight at you, the same white locks that obstructed your vision in the mornings.

the same satoru who’d learned of love through you and you alone. the same satoru who, even if he leaves, will always find his way back to you, no matter how much you try to deny and push him away.

satoru takes two steps forward before he pulls you towards him, his long arms coming around you and holding you tight.

this time, he’s not going to let you go.

“y/n,” he calls your name softly, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. “wanna give this another shot?”

[jeonggukookies]

the crown's kingdom || jjk

– summary: after rejecting many suitors, your mother chooses a husband for you, and her choice is none other than your worst nightmare: Jungkook, the prince heir of Aurum. How will you survive an arranged marriage with Jungkook, the one you hate the most?

– genre: royalty!au, enemies to lovers!au, prince!jungkook, queen!reader, arranged marriage - fluff/angst

– note: this is rewritten and reposted as i changed and added some NEW details regarding both oc and jungkook & loosely based on the history of mary stuart !! (i am so sorry)

– word count: 1.2K

The two countries, Caelestia and Luxuria, have been in conflict with each other for many generations now, with constant ongoing invasion battles and military campaigns, shedding hundreds of thousands of blood on each landmass. Being two border countries surrounded by the sea, both countries were hungry for the power, land, and wealth for it to be one.  

Tensions escalated even further after your father, the king, had been assassinated by a Luxuria anarchist. Luxuria soldiers saw this opportunity to put the Caelestia castle under siege, seeing this as their chance to finally take the country as their own. 

But what they didn’t know is that your mother, the Queen Consort, had given birth to his heir. 

The throne of Caelestia, was inherited by the daughter of King Constantine of Caelestia and Queen Consort Nylah, you, two days after you were born. 

During your childhood, your mother has been acting Queen Regent, taking care of all the responsibilities on your behalf since you’ve been crowned Queen. She wasn’t like most mothers, letting you live a privileged life, not wanting you to suffer through the hardships of royalty until you were of age. 

Despite spending most of your time with your many governesses and trying to play hide and seek in the castle with other noble children, the People of Luxuria still saw you as a threat. And by your seventh birthday, they were finally brave enough to send a message, that they still wanted your throne by seasoning your porridge with poison, intentionally killing your royal taster.  

With a failed assassination attempt, your mother sent you to the country of Aurum for your protection away from the Luxurians, hidden away from your own people across the sea. 

Not only were you the Queen of Caelestia, but because of your mother’s side, you were related to the Queen of Luxuria, meaning you could claim the Luxuria throne as yours if the Queen of Luxuria dies without a heir and if the people accept you.

Before marrying your father, she had been an Aurum noblewoman with land in Luxuria, and the Aurum court allowed you to be there for your safety and as a part of a small, meaningless alliance. 

Living at Aurum Court was almost the same as your own courts. The only difference was being with other Aurum royals. As a child, the Prince of Aurum had been a constant troublemaker, a reigning terror for his own people. He was known for cheekiness and confidence, getting out of tough situations with his charms and good looks. 

“Jungkook.” You forced a smile, entering the throne room after being suddenly summoned in the middle of the night. “What are you doing here?” 

He pointed in the direction in front of him, and there was his parents, the King and Queen consort of Aurum on their respective thrones with your mother standing next to his mother.

Your jaw dropped, not expecting her to be standing in front of you. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had seen her in person. The last few years, you’ve only been corresponding with letters to her. “What are you doing here?” 

“That’s no way to greet your mother.” She came forward to give you a quick hug and then returned back to her original position. “The Luxuria troops are getting stronger at the border.”

“And I’m sorry, how does this matter revolve around me and my country?” Jungkook asked. 

You rolled your eyes at Jungkook’s comment. As children, your personality always clashed with Jungkook. The two of you always tried to avoid each other at all costs.

Although you and Jungkook were raised together in the castle, experiencing the same exact royal lessons of courtesy, ballroom dancing and diplomacy, you never once could get along with Jungkook, turning everything with him into an argument or competition whether it was for academic endeavors or favoring the people of

the court.

“I took a risk coming here as Luxuria has barely allowed travel between our two countries,” she said. “I came here to finalize the alliance, that the two of you would wed.” 

Jungkook sighed. “It happened, didn’t it?” 

“What happened?” You asked, not understanding the context. “Hasn’t Jungkook been engaged with Princess Comet of Cometes since they were six?”

“The King legitimized his first-born and mistress’s son,” his mother explained.

Your heart dropped upon hearing the news. “She is no longer the Princess of Cometes?”

“I am afraid not, but good news, Jungkook, you have a new bride,” your mother announced. 

“This can’t be,” you insisted. “Surely, there’s someone else.” 

“My child, you will marry our son and make him the king of two countries, and then later put your claim on Luxuria once the queen dies. There, you two will have three countries,” the King said. 

But you never once wanted to rule Luxuria.  

“We have given you protection and will continue to do so for this alliance.” 

“But we cannot be wed,” Jungkook argued. 

“You will especially since you’ve scared all the other suitors away,” your mother said. 

You were fiercely known for your independence and stubbornness, always speaking your mind. Your honesty and independency allowed you to earn your title as the Ice Queen, but that was all because of Jungkook. 

Through the game of telephone and writing secretive notes around the castle, the whole castle knew how you rejected possibly the best suitor for love, Kim Namjoon. He would have given up his country for you, and everyone knew it. 

At the time you were thirteen, still lacking tact, you met with Namjoon in the library and told him that giving up his own country for someone was foolish and idiotic. And Jungkook, hiding behind the curtains of that room, ran with it, spreading the word that you broke Namjoon’s heart, needing more than him and his country as a power hungry queen. 

Kim Namjoon’s heart wasn’t the only one you broke. Prominent and wealthy families from neighboring realms had sent their sons to court you, yet their efforts left you unimpressed and unmoved. 

As the years went on, there were less and less potential suitors. No one wanted their son to marry someone who was an intimidating person, and no one especially wanted a queen that could not be controlled. 

“It’s time for this childhood rivalry of yours to end.” 

“Mother, you know he’s the reason why suitors are afraid of me.”

“Get over it,” Jungkook gritted through his teeth. 

“How dare he disrespect me as a queen?”

“He was thirteen.” Your mother groaned. “You will marry Jungkook for your people, for your country.” 

You stepped forward, distancing yourself away so no one could hear what you were about to say. “And you and I know he will not love me.”

As fortunate as your life was, there was still a burden to bear, a burden even heavier as a royal. You still sought for an union to secure your financial and political status in society. Despite being a queen and having almost everything you want, the one thing you want the most is the one thing you knew you couldn't have: love.

She sighed. “And we both know love does not matter for people like us.” 

“But did thou not love my father and he thee?” Despite his death, the story of your father and his legacy lives on, including his love story with your mother. 

“Indeed, we loved each other truly,” she said. “But stories like his and mine happen once in a lifetime. Perhaps, the promise of love and the future of reconciliation can come.” 

Taking a look over your shoulder. You see Jungkook smirking. “Well Ice Queen looks like we need each other after all.”

________

hello hello hello!

thank you for reading the prologue for this new series :) i am very excited! please let me know if you need more context or visuals of some things were confusing.

[mxtxfanatic]

He Who Can Be Taught! (or a Meta on Jin Ling and His Shishu)

Wei Wuxian and Jin Ling don't start off the story with the best relationship. Jin Ling has been taught all his life that Wei Wuxian intentionally murdered both of us parents, and added to the fact that the boy has picked up the worst traits between his father and maternal uncle, it would have been understandable for the relationship to fail. However, the more time Jin Ling spent with his shishu, the more he comes to care about the man he was raised to hate, going from this:

The young master was none other than Jin Ling. Crossing his arms, the boy said coldly, “Kick you? Anyone who dares utter the name “Wei Wuxian�� around me should kneel before me in gratitude if I don’t kill them! And here you were shrieking and hollering it here in the middle of the street. Are you looking to die?!” Wei Wuxian hadn’t expected Jin Ling to turn up here, much less that Jin Ling would be as arrogant and dictatorial as this. What’s wrong with this child? How did he become so vicious and short- tempered? He’s stubborn and arrogant, and thinks everyone is beneath him. Excellent job picking up his uncle’s and his father’s flaws—but he hasn’t acquired half a speck of his mother’s virtues. If I don’t rough him up a bit, he’ll pay for it big time sooner or later. Seeing that Jin Ling didn’t seem done venting his anger and had closed in a couple of paces on the fallen man, Wei Wuxian interrupted. “Jin Ling!”

—Chapt. 20: Sunshine II, fanyiyi

Jin Ling spoke again. “My uncle grew up with him, and my grandfather saw him as his own child. My grandmother didn’t mistreat him either, but him? Because of him, Lotus Pier got turned into those Wen clan scum’s evil lair. Because of him, the Yunmeng Jiang Clan was decimated and scattered to the wind. Because of him, my grandmother and grandfather died together, and now my uncle is the only one left! He only has himself to blame for his inevitable death. In the end, all of the winds and waves he stirred up left him with a dismembered, mutilated corpse! What’s there to be unclear about, exactly? What could he possibly be let off the hook for?!”

—Chapt. 43: Beauty I, fanyiyi

...to actively trying to seek the other man out after discovering that maybe what he'd been told all his life wasn't as clear-cut as he'd been taught:

Little did he know that after he, Lan WangJi, and Wen Ning had left the Lotus Pier, Jin Ling had sneakily went to look for him. Realizing that Wei WuXian had disappeared, Jin Ling had ran to his uncle—who for some unknown reason was madly grabbing everyone he saw, asking them to unsheathe some shabby, old sword—and thrown a huge tantrum at him. Pointing at his uncle’s nose, Jin Ling had blamed him for Wei WuXian’s running away, and had gotten slapped by Jiang Cheng so hard that he’d fallen to the ground. Deciding to do what he had been planning to do in the first place, Jin Ling had gone off on his own to trace after Wei WuXian’s whereabouts with Fairy, without a care for consequences. ... Instead of answering, Jin GuangYao shot back another question. “A-Ling, what are you doing all the way over here?” Jin Ling shot a glance at Wei WuXian and hesitated in answering.

—Chapt. 99: A Hatred for Life Part 2, boat-full-of-lotus-pods

Hearing that both Wei WuXian and Lan WangJi had disappeared, Jin Ling hurried outside and nearly tripped himself by the tall doorstep of the Guanyin temple’s main gate. Despite his haste, the two were already nowhere to be seen. Fairy happily circled around him with her tongue out. Standing by a tree, rigid and sky-high within the Guanyin temple’s grounds, was Jiang Cheng, who looked over at Jin Ling and spoke coldly, “Clean your face.” Giving his eyes and face a few forceful wipe, Jin Ling dashed over and asked, “Where are they?”

—Chapt. 110: Concealment Part 4, boat-full-of-lotus-pods

...to even being able to nighthunt together, have a serious conversation, be teased, and be told that Wei Wuxian is proud of him and his growth (despite Jin Ling's embarrassment at the displays of affection) without Jin Ling lashing out in violence:

Jin Ling was still on guard. Seeing that Wei WuXian really didn’t seem like he was going to do anything else, Jin Ling finally managed to stay seated. When one of the waitresses saw that the chaos here finally ended, she came to add more water with a smile on her face. Wei WuXian took up the cup and took a sip, before he suddenly called, “A-Ling.” Jin Ling had on a haughty tone, “What?” Wei WuXian, however, only grinned, “This time, you seem to have grown up quite a bit.” Jin Ling stopped. Wei WuXian felt his own chin, “Right now, you appear to be, hm, a lot more reliable. I’m really happy, but I’m also a bit... How should I say it? Honestly, how much of an idiot you used to be was quite adorable as well.” Jin Ling, again, found it hard to stay seated. Out of the blue, Wei WuXian reached out and gave his shoulders a tight hug, ruffling his hair, “But no matter what, I’m more than happy that I get to see you little brat again, haha!” Ignoring the mess that his hair was in, Jin Ling hopped up from the bench and rushed outside. Wei WuXian dragged him back with another strike, “Where are you going?” Even Jin Ling’s neck had reddened. He spoke in a rough voice, “I’m going to check out the White Room!”

...

Wei WuXian knew what he was thinking even without looking at him. He patted his head and smiled, “Put up a good show, if you happen to come across the opportunity.” Jin Ling complained, “Don’t touch my head. You can’t touch a man’s head, don’t you know?”

—Chapt. 123: Iron Hook Extra, exr

Needless to say, the transformation of Jin Ling and Wei Wuxian's relationship from would-be "enemies" to a proper shishu-shizhi relationship that Jiang Yanli would have been proud of is just another notch in the list of reasons why Wei Wuxian's resurrection was a net positive in the cultivation world.

[dragon-toad]

HOT TAKE : Makarov was a bad father (and a bad grandfather)

I'm expecting a big wave of hate with this one... BUT LET ME EXPLAIN

We can dive into the generational trauma theory : we know Yuri has been profoundly hurt by his wife's death (giving birth to Makarov) and this is a thing we should consider. In most cases, people live with the burden of the death of their partner until they die, which could have been Yuri's case. And the idea that somehow his wife died for his son... Well, angst potential.

Now : death of a loved one + wife who dies giving birth to his son = difficult father-son relationship

And even if Yuri didn't do it intentionally, there could have been a distance between the father and the son, and it has repercussions on the futur.

So yes, it maybe happened completely differently, but let's consider this hypothesis to understand what comes after :

Makarov was raised in the guild, where everybody is friendly. The only thing is his daddy issues. He ends up considering the guild more important, so the thing to cherish and protect at all cost.

Everything is fine.

Then, Ivan enters the game.

I know it's very fun to have an antagonist in the family of the master, the man presented as the most loving, a father for all the lost children, etc. BUT maybe we can go a little deeper.

We sometimes have this idea that some characters are born meaner than others, it allows us to ignore psychology and sociology, but it's not fun.

We can suppose Ivan was born in the guild, like Makarov and certainly Laxus. And as it's shown every single second that Fairy Tail is a very healthy environment, a "big family", so even if Ivan was a bit twisted, he would not have been so mean with his colleagues, provoking his exclusion, and he would have not tried to destroy the guild.

Unless he have daddy issues too. Let's consider : Makarov has a son and the mother is nowhere to be found. Doesn't it remind you of something ? But Makarov know his relationship with his father wasn't awesome, so he tries differently.

So two possibilities can be explored :

1- Ivan is a spoiled child. Being the master's son allows him to do reprehensible things and not be punished after, or not too much, and Makarov wants to give him all the freedom he didn't have. Until he almost kills another member of the guild. Then Makarov is forced to expel him. He takes away the thing that gave Ivan an almost unlimited power, and he doesn't like it. So if he can't have Fairy Tail, nobody will.

2- Makarov prefers the guild to his son. He doesn't know how to raise a kid, what if he screws like his father ? (Spoiler : he does) So when Precht makes him the new master, he puts all his soul into his job. But Ivan wants a father. So he does everything to make his father notice him, to make his father proud. It leads him to dark places, and thus, being strong = being good enough. Unfortunately, it doesn't work, because he ends up expelled. So, by pure rage, he decides to destroy the thing his father loved more than him. (It's my favorite version)

In both cases, Ivan manipulates his son into believing that being strong is the only way for him to be respected, to be seen.

Which leads us to the Laxus part (finally)

It's canon that Ivan pushed his son to be the strongest (to the point he put a lacrima in his body) so yeah, Laxus has daddy issues. But he has gampa issues too.

Let's continue with the theory we built on this post : Makarov doesn't really raise his son, why would he raise his grandson ?

But we see Makarov taking care of a very young Laxus. Thus, Laxus once loved his grandfather. Except Ivan didn't. So we can suppose he decided to keep his son under his control by manipulating him into thinking he has to be the strongest.

Then Ivan was banned.

The problem with an abusive relationship is that the victim thinks the abuser is on the right, which explains why Laxus was all but happy his father was expelled. But he stayed in Fairy Tail, because despite everything, Fairy Tail is his home. But this home is controlled by the man who banned his father (his abuser)

Laxus becomes a rank-S mage, which means he's the strongest. He has all the rights to make Fairy Tail his home, not Makarov's.

Well yes, but no.

Because there's Mirajane, a prodigy so fucking strong she becomes a rank-S mage too. But Lisanna dies, and suddenly everybody loves Mirajane. She even becomes the right arm of Makarov, because she's too weak now to create problems now.

And there's Natsu and Gray, Makarov's little boys. They're noisy, annoying, but they have potential. They have the potential to become stronger than Laxus. And Makarov loves them.

But more important, because there's Erza, who is so strong, so kind, so nice... Who is his grandfather's favorite. The same grandfather who did nothing when Ivan imprisoned Laxus into a psychological jail and who banned Ivan for somebody else's weakness. And Laxus knows it : she is the future master of Fairy Tail. She will steal his home and make it even weaker.

So he has to take Fairy Tail now, even if his grandfather dies in the process. Better, it will make things easier !

But in the end, Laxus loves Fairy Tail. He loves the guild enough to not betray everybody by joining his father's guild.

Laxus broke the cycle. And I don't think it was thanks to Makarov. If Laxus broke the cycle, it's because despite everything, he has weirdos to stick with. The Raijinshuu are a safe place for Laxus, they are strong enough to be his friends colleagues, they don't call him "psychotic" when he tells them he wants the guild, and more important, they care for him.

Laxus broke the cycle thanks to people who cared for him. They even wanted to follow him when he was banned ! But he said no, because he care for them and he knows they will be better in Fairy Tail.

Now, let's consider : travelling must have felt like therapy for Laxus : he's not part of Fairy Tail anymore and he's sure he will never have the possibility to come back, but he will not join his father because he doesn't want to put his friends in danger. So he has to do something by himself, not under the influence of his father. And I believe this emancipation was beneficial for him. He could learn what it means to be himself, not Ivan's son or Makarov's grandson.

I don't think he fully forgave Makarov for his inaction and for loving other more than him, and he's not completely out of Ivan's philosophy, those things need time, but he escaped the cycle.

[cateyesinlove]

Threads of Black and Threads of Green

Jace Velaryon/ targaryen x Helaena Targaryen

TW: none

Masterlist

AO3

Chapter one; Dance of The Dragons I

Helaena’s mornings had begun the same way every day since her sister had taken her rightful place on the Iron throne. She would wake up, break her fast alone then visit her mother, spend her afternoon in the garden, reading or having tea with her sister until it was time for her supper. Now that she no longer was Queen she was allowed so many more things like sleeping longer, more freedom to have a say in matters regarding herself, and finally, she was able to take the reigns of her life, while Helaena had been Queen she had wilded no real power given that her mother made certain that everything was done how she wanted not how Helaena wished for it.

Helaena enjoyed doing things by herself, she had always enjoyed it, from brushing her hair to choosing her clothes. When she was younger she had been able to pick her dresses, after the crowning of Aegon, her mother instructed the maids to select Helaenas cloths, something regal that made her look the part of Queen she was to play. Helaena often felt like her mother was intentionally putting her in the dresses that would overwhelm her the most making her skin crawl, the feeling of needles prickling her, the sensation of hundreds of small ants running around her body, now just the thoughts of those dresses brought her to tears

The first time she had spent an afternoon with her sister after the coronation, the first time she had truly interacted with Rhaenyra since the retaking of Kingslanding since Helaena of course had not been allowed to attend the coronation for her safety, her sister had asked how Helaena was, how she felt and if there had been anything she could do for her. 

“Anything that I can do to help, sister?” the Queen had asked her one afternoon as they drank tea.  

“I wish for the maids to not touch me!.” she blurted out, part of her felt ashamed that she had spoken so bluntly to the Queen but Rhaenyra had just smiled at her and instructed every single person of Helaenas staff to not lay a finger on her sister if she did not desire it. Later that night as Helaena brushed her hair, she was reminiscing about how she hadn’t even thought for a second to ask about her mother and to plead for her.

She finished preparing for the day by herself and proceeded to break her fast while reading a book. Days in the Keep were slow but gentle to her. She would usually be left alone until she visited her mother in the cells, and some days after the visits, she would ask her sister for tea. 

She felt queasy and quickly rushed towards her chamber pot, vomiting everything she had eaten. Oh the joys of pregnancy, she thought bitterly, after feeling better she quickly proceeded to do her business in it to try and hide the vomit.

Once she was done she came back to her couch, placed a hand on her belly, and wondered what her sister would do if her child turned out to be a boy. Naturally, he would be an heir for Aegon that is if her husband still lived, worse some lord would rally behind her child to dethrone Rhaenyra and place him on the throne, however, if the baby was a girl, she would be another bargaining chip for the Greens to marry away in exchange for armies and alliances; Helaena feared for her babe, why could her children not been fathered by another man, a good man or the man she loved and longed for. Would Rhaenyra allow her babe to live? Helaena knew that it was a risk for Rhaenyras's position to let her child live but could she be capable of killing her or her child? 

Unable to move from the panic and overwhelming feelings she spent all day there, never moving from her seat ignoring as maids came and went, wondering, planning, and praying to whatever God would listen, asking for guidance on how to coax her sister to let her babe live when she had realized the sun was setting, she had skipped visiting her mother and by now it was too late to request an audience with her sister. 

The door opened unpromptedly later that afternoon, “Lady Helaena, Lady Mysaria is here to see you.” Ser Lyonel informed her as he allowed the woman to enter her room. 

A new development in her life was that most nobles had begun calling her Lady Helaena rather than Princess unless her sister was present. She had passed from Princess to only Lady Helaena. 

“Thank you Ser,” she thanked him and proceeded to stand up, Ser Lyonel bowed and retired to guard her door again. 

“No need, to stand up princess.” Mysaria informed her with a gentle smile, “Especially in your condition.” she said to her.

“My apologies Lady Mysaria, I am not certain I understand what you mean” she immediately replied, her hands began shaking so she held them tight making sure never to bring them near her belly, she clasped them together on her lap as she sat down, no longer being able to stay standing up.” I am feeling rather well.”

Mysaria made her way to her table and sat down, “No need to lie princess.” She informed Helaena. “I know everything and so does the Queen.” 

Helaena felt the ground be swept off under her as she grew weak. “Th- the Queen knows?” 

Mysaria nodded serving herself some tea her maids had brought earlier in case she got hungry and picking it up,” Of course, after you reached that conclusion, so did I and immediately informed her.” 

“Ho-how did you find out?” she asked, eyes full of tears. 

“The same way you did,” Mysaria answered after drinking from her cup. “No bleeding, the maids informed me of your morning sickness and your strange appetite.”

“What does my sister think of this?” she asked frightened. 

Mysaria sighed setting her cup down, “The queen has a gentle heart and feels for you, I feel for you Princess Helaena but that babe,” she pointed to Helaenas belly, “is Aegon’s baby and the babe will present nothing but a challenge to the Queen, you must know that Princess.” 

“ I know, I am aware but my sister must know the babe is innocent! ” She pleads hands cradling her womb, “Wh-what if I say the babe is a bastard? I can claim I had a lover in front of the entire court! I will do whatever is necessary for my baby, please lady Mysaria, please help me keep my baby!” she cries, running to sit down at the table reaching for the woman's hand desperate for an answer.

Mysaria settles her left hand on top of Helaena’s, “The Queen and I will do what we can Princess but I can't promise you everything will be fine, this are dark times and I will not put the Queen's reign in jeopardy,” She says to Helena, thumb caressing her hand.

“I understand,” Helaena answered as tears ran down her face. 

“I will advise you Princess Helaena,” Lady Mysaria said while retracting her hands from Helaenas. “If you could betray Aegon by informing us of where he is, it would be in your best interest and maybe the small council could help you.” she offered the advice.

“Bu- but I do not know where Aegon went! I wasn't aware he had even planned to leave.” she pleads. 

“Then it would be in your best interest to find that information.” Mysaria tells her with a serious tone, almost a warning, “Talk to the one who would know,” 

Lady Mysaria had departed soon after her conversation with Helaena bidding her a good afternoon and retiring. 

After that Ser Lyonel informed her of the time, It was visit hours with her mother if she wished to see her.

Her mother, Lady Alicent Hightower. Rhaenyra had officially stripped her mother of her dowager Queen title, she was nothing more than a lady like her. 

She made her way down to the dungeons with Ser Lyonel behind her, following her of course not to protect her but to keep an eye on her. No one in this place ever cared for her, not when she was Queen, and less now that she was merely a Lady.

“Helaena! My dear!” Helaena could hear her mother before she saw her.

“Mother,” she answered as she approached the cell. She could see her mother through the small window with bars at the door of her cell. The first thing she saw was her mother's hands and then her face as she pressed herself as close as she could. 

“Oh thank the mother!” She praised grabbing Helaenas cheeks and caressing her face, “You are safe,” She sighed in relief. 

“I came to see you the day before,” Helanea reminded her. 

“Yes of course but every day I fear they will execute you for breathing the incorrect way,” she exclaims worried sick and tears gathering her eyes.

“Mother,” she sighs, uncomfortable with her mother's behavior, with her tears.

“What! Why are you acting like the only reason they aren't killing us is to prevent an uproar!” She yells angrily at Helaena and bangs the bars of the cell. 

She remembers now why she is only allowed to visit her mother in this cell, days ago her mother had gotten mad at Helaena and grabbed her through the bars of the cell, scratching her and accidentally banging Helaena against the cell. Her sister yelled at her mother and forbade her from seeing Helaena in a cell that allowed her to touch her. 

“You can not say things like that mother!” she says hardly panicking in the inside, she looks back at Sir Lyonel and the guards, they dont move nor look at them but she knows they heard her mother. 

“WHY? Because if precious rhaenyra would hear me say things like that she would what, KILL ME? She cant! I am the queen! I am the QUEEN MOTHER!” she screams in anguish, fury taking overtaking her, she drops onto her knees covering her face with her hands and then she cried like all the other times before. Helaena took a moment to observe her mother, she had on a grey tunic and her auburn hair was down, her curls going everywhere and her hands, her fingers were read and some of them bandaged after so much pinching and scratching around her nails, her one flaw she would call it. 

“We had everything, I had everything, I was a perfect queen and lady, I never meant for any of this to happened!” she sobbed. 

Helaena opted for leaving her mom, once her crying spells started it took her a couple hours to compose herself again, leaving without saying anything she felt the tears gathering in her own eyes. Helaena rarely felt resentment towards her mother, she tried not to but there occasions like this when she had no will powe to stop the morions and feeling rushing through her, how could her mother still act like the victim when she had deliberatelly put them in this position, seh had aegon and raised him since a child to be king, to steal Rhaenyras throne, then she married to him and made her have kids with him, she planned and scheamed and when things didnt go her way she gave up and now blames everyone else. 

As she made her way to her room quickly Ser Lyonel was fast behind her she dried the tears away from her eyes. How horrid it had turned, she had to deal with Lady Mysaria's cryptid advice to see her mother and deal with the insanity… No.. madness, the madness that emanates from her trapped in that cell where all she does is plead with the gods and relive memory after memory of her life. Every mistake. Every error and every painful moment.

“Lady Helaena!” Sir Lyonel called her but as Helaena turned to look at him she crashed with something, someone. 

King consort Daemon Targaryen, her uncle and her son's murderer. 

“Your grace!” Ser Lyonel exclaimed as he grabbed Helaena by the shoulders, parting her from him. Helaena shuddered at the touch and quickly shook herself from his grip, “My apologies Lady Helaena was careless with her footing.” He excuses her before bowing before Daemon. 

Helaena was no one's fool, she might have not been as sane as everyone else, plagued and marked by the things she had seen throughout her life but she was somewhat aware of how things worked, how the games were played, and what her uncle thought of her. 

Daemon smirked, looking down at Helaena. Through his eyes, she could feel his disdain and almost disgust. “ Of course, “ he mockingly says, “ I am sure Lady Helaena forgot she is in the ground rather than in the clouds, as always.” He snorts and keeps walking. Looking at him, she sees him dressed in dragon-riding attire, and she catches a smell. It fills her with dread, and she realizes what it is. 

He stank of death. The same smell that plagued her little boy that day.

———————————————————————-

Tag list ( open) :

@ella-error505

[jolenes-doppelganger]

Shooting the Messenger

Reverend Mother Jessica Atreides x Fem!Harkonnen Reader

Summary: Following the Battle of Arrakeen, House Harkonnen remains decimated. With Baron Harkonnen’s corpse slowly rotting in the sand and Feyd Rautha thrown amidst a pile of burning bodies, Reader is left with no choice but to hide amidst the rubble of the city in the hope of eventually escaping before being killed. Unfortunately, the bastard child of Emmi Harkonnen finds herself cornered, incapable of escaping from the clutches of the still surviving Atreides clan. (Emmi Harkonnen is the wife of Abulurd Harkonnen, brother to the Baron Harkonnen- NO INCEST!!!!).

Warnings: Dark circumstances (war, murder, death), complimentary Stockholm/Lima syndromes dynamic, grey-morality, abuse of power (Jessica), spitting

A/N: I’ve leaned more into the circumstances of the Dune books, specifically with Alia being born before the Battle of Arrakeen. If pregnant women are your thing, good for you, but I’m not into pursuing a relationship with a woman pregnant with a psychic, talking baby that observes everything going on from inside the womb. (Authored with inspiration and council from @ilovehotactresses- Here ya go buddy). This is all worldbuilding, no sexy times, I apologize. I legit cannot comprehend this woman fucking someone just 'cause she can. More sexy times later, I promise, promise, promise!!

Word Count: 3.3k

House Harkonnen had fallen. Baron Harkonnen was dead. Feyd Rautha, his successor, laid upon a pile of Sardaukar and Harkonnen soldiers, slowly being burned by flames on the sands of the fallen city. You had lost track of Beast Rabban, your oldest half-brother. It mattered not, you hated both of your half-brothers, the dead Feyd Rautha most especially. But regardless of resentment and old wounds, you were left without protection. Finding a dark, well hidden corner of the fallen city was difficult. But you did. Panting, in between collapsing from exertion and crying out of fear, you'd found a corner. Making yourself as small as possible, you covered your ears and froze.

"Reverend Mother, you cannot go into this sector! It is not secured!" a voice echoed down the halls.

"I don't have another option. Alia has spoken to me of her. I must find this remaining vestibule of the Harkonnen throne, the one that remains, the living heir." a voice rasped.

Silence. The room fell silent, and the footsteps disappeared. It must have been an illusion of some sort, a trick of the senses. Those voices and footfalls had been near, therefore the woman who spoke should have been near.

"There you are. Rise."

A force greater than you pulled you up, causing you to put pressure on your lacerated, probably fractured leg. You cried out in pain, but you remained standing.

"Nevermind. Kneel."

You kneeled, the force of your knees on the stone caused white hot pain to flash up your body. Hands cupped your face, pushing back the veil that hid your hair.

"Ahh, so you're half-Harkonnen? The rumours are true.. You're Emmi Harkonnen's bastard, her little mistake." the woman cooed, stroking over the hair repeatedly. "Precious, so precious. You'd make a poor heir. But we have to ensure that, don't we?"

You could only wheeze, looking up at the veiled woman in spite and fear.

"Oh, if you've heard the rumors, you've most certainly heard of my rumored fathers." you managed.

Reverend Mother Jessica drew closer.

"No, I most certainly haven't."

Glaring up at her intentionally, you smirked in recognition of the advantage you had.

"I was supposedly conceived during an Imperial caucus, the product of an affair. But I've heard the whispers. I may have been the product of none other than your deceased Duke Leto."

The slap that landed across your cheeks was resonant, and humiliating. No matter how much pride one has, slaps can never be any less humiliating than nature intends them to be. Tears collect in your eyes from the force, and you're knocked backwards, or to the side, depending on the direction of the slap.

"You will not speak of such things." Mother Jessica seethed.

"It doesn't matter if I was his bastard. This was several years before he met you."

Her hands encircled your throat, and you were met with the steely blue eyes of the Reverend Mother in the flesh.

"Shut your mouth. I have one purpose for you, and if you do not fulfill it, you will find how little life has left to offer you."

"-I'm a bastard child, there was never-"

"Sleep."

Jessica could only look with a mix of relief and victory as the Harkonnen slumped forward, pushed into a dream-like state by her command of the Voice. This child was a fighter, she knew it to be true. But she hadn't slapped the young woman out of spite, or fear, rather it had been merely annoying to suggest she was the Duke's child. Jessica knew her deceased concubine well, she knew that if he had made such a mistake as sleeping with the wife of a royal Harkonnen it would have come out before his death, most certainly under the pressure of the move to Arrakis. Not to mention the child in front of her did not look like her duke. She'd know his features anywhere; they were burned into her soul.

"Pesky, belligerent. More Harkonnen than I'd like to admit." Jessica muttered to herself. "Pick her up and have her treated for her wounds. She is useful, for the time being."

The Sayyadina that surrounded her nodded, and a Fremen soldier appeared, hauling the war-worn woman up, towards a medical unit. Jessica knew that her injuries would not be attended to at all if she did not press the matter, so she ensured that the girl was brought into her chambers, that her Sayyadina would oversee the matter to fruition. In the meantime, she had the council of her child Alia to attend to.

"It is done?" the toddler asked, voice uncharacteristically adult, in a tiny little body of a girl.

"Yes, the Harkonnen bastard will be attended to." Jessica murmured.

Her daughter came forward, crawling into her mother's lap. Regardless of her mental age, the body begged for connection from her mother, the soul too.

"She is more than just a bastard, she could be very useful to Paul's cause." Alia mused, childish voice still containing a hint of a lisp.

Jessica hummed, stroking the blonde curls that were springing from her daughter's scalp.

"How do I manipulate her to our needs?"

Alia furrowed her brow, thinking carefully. It seemed the little girl blessed with such mental and psychic foresight was momentarily at a loss for words, carefully considering her next proposal.

"She is like her brother. She has wounds, desires, all of which are accessed through physicality, through sexual manipulation." the girl spoke.

Jessica looked at her daughter carefully.

"So, I bed her?"

Alia shook her head.

"Seduction comes in many ways. If it pleases you to engage with her like that..." but Alia did not finish the thought. "It is not necessary to go all the way."

Jessica hummed, returning to petting her daughters curls. Upon inspection, they were covered in dirt and sand. It was natural for the Caladan born woman to immediately think of baths, but on Arrakis no such luxury could exist. Her daughter was of the desert, conceived upon Arrakis, of this Jessica was sure. Secondly was the matter of her daughter's strange connection to the sands. Alia smelled of the desert, an eerie quality Jessica could not explain. Truth be told, the warrior-child scared her. The mere toddler, the small body that contained such irreputable wisdom and violence, it was a body that should have glowed with innocence, of mindless naivety.

"Mother, of what do you think?" Alia asked, seemingly sensing the dark, contemplative nature of her mother.

"Of matters that you need not concern yourself with, my daughter." Jessica answered curtly. "... I have but one request. Stop wielding those knives. Your mind is old, but your body is young.."

"-I will be fine." Alia shrugged, hopping off of her mother's lap, walking away.

Watching her daughter display such independence was exhaustingly emotional. Jessica felt the tell-tale sign of her eyes burning, and the willpower it took to restrain the tears that begged to fall was more exhausting than just allowing her body to release a few drops of water. Walking away, Jessica moved towards the body that lay prone some distance aways. Jessica yearned for something to care for, something that needed her, someone that would be loyal, and innocent in the nature of the world in ways that her children could not be. Jessica wanted something to call hers, and hers alone.

<------------->

Glowing light burned through the windows of the conquered city of Arrakis. Smoke wafted through the main palace, the smell tinged with burning hair and flesh. It was grotesque, the smell unforgettable. It reeked of murder, of shed blood.

"Ahh, she awakes." a voice purred, hands encircling you, a face coming into focus.

Blue eyes of the desert came into view. Tattoos, marks of prophecy; symbols your mind could not comprehend adorned her face. Hair, brown and dark, hints of grey peppered in amongst the rest of her straight hair.

"Who are you?"

The woman smiled, and her breath was unnaturally odorless. The product of fasting, you assumed.

"You may call me Lady Jessica, if that suits you." the woman murmured. "Or Reverend Mother."

Lady Jessica Atreides, mother of Paul Atreides, the Lisan al Gaib, Muad'dib of the Fremen, prophet, the mind to bridge time and space. The mother of the demon-child Alia, St. Alia of the Knife, abomination, Reverend Mother, that which should have remained unborn. You knew her well. You knew of her hell-spawn, her corruption, her disregard for higher authority. She submitted to her son, but that was an illusion, you assumed.

"No." you rasped. "No, no, no, no!"

Jessica pressed a hand over your mouth, silencing you.

"Shh," she cooed. "No fear, no cries for help. None of it will make a difference for what I have planned for you."

Since you were a child, since before you had the ability to comprehend the complexities of being a Harkonnen, of being a but a half-breed, you'd always known that it had been okay to run to your mother. Scraped knee? Mother. Your older brothers cornering you? Run to mother. Maids jeering and bothering you? Mother. Lonely, scared and wet after an acid polluted thunderstorm caught you and burned your skin red and painful? Mother. It was in these moments of foolish vulnerability that your heart would sing for that connection, that safety. It was futile. Emmi Harkonnen had died years prior.

"Hmm... Alia may have made her first mistake." Jessica mused, dissecting your fearful micro-expressions. "Or only partly right."

Jessica's hands reached up, cupping your face, brushing hair out of your eyes. Thumbs glided over your brows, analyzing your expressions carefully.

"No... You'll be much easier to crack this way..."

Hauling you up and into her arms felt deceptively easy for Jessica. Her body had hardened and grown sinewy with tough, resistant muscle the longer she remained in the desert. She drew you to her breast, resting head in the crook of her armpit. She reeked of sweetness, of sweat long dried, of the unmistakable tang of spice.

"There... Don't fight it, don't try to hide away." Jessica whispered, her breath now sickly sweet, from low-blood sugar, you guessed.

"You need to stop fasting." you murmured. "Your breath is sweet."

Jessica laughed a little, cradling you closer.

"I have complete control of my bodily functions. You need not concern yourself with the matters of my health."

Hands dragged over the cloth clothes the Sayyadina had pulled over you. Bandages covered your body in innumerable places, your leg was especially bandaged, the product of the fracture you'd sustained. Jessica continued stroking your face, pulling you closer, fingers desperately combing through your hair.

"It's been so long since someone's needed me... Even my own daughter outgrew the need for me once she was a year old..." Jessica whispered, her face showing signs of paranoia, of unmistakable jealous rage. "The Bene Gesserit have taken so much from me... My mother first, then my innocence, my connection with my Duke, my son's innocence, the life of my beloved, even my own daughter."

There was a madness in her eyes that could not be explained. She was strong, ruthless, ready to take and take and milk the desert of every last devotion to her cause, to her children that it could offer. But yet with all that work, with all that pain and suffering she'd put forth, her children grew farther apart from her. Jessica grabbed at the Harkonnen woman with desperation, pulling her in as close as their mortal forms could allow.

"No, you will be mine and you will love me."

"Let me go, I want to go home." you protested, trying to wiggle out of the woman's arms.

The madness in her eyes grew brighter, and she smiled obscenely.

"But you are home."

"I live on Giedi Prime." you whimpered.

Jessica let out a laugh so harsh it might have been mistaken for screech.

"Giedi Prime? No child. I could not send you back to your decaying father, to the dark, colorless, soulless world of Giedi Prime. You belong to me now. Arrakis will be your home. Then, one day, when the time comes, you and I will return to Caladan. We will live on the cliffs, the oceans will sing to us, the breeze... We will remember the good days, and make them ours once again..."

The woman in front of you, the woman who cradled you was haunted, deranged in ways that could not be explained. Whether she had been pushed too far by the loss of her house and her beloved Duke, or whether it had been the Fremen Spice Agony that had caused her to be so utterly consumed by her desires, by her visions of Paul and his propheted status as the Lisan al Gaib.

"I want to be close to my mother." you whispered.

This gave Jessica some pause, she stalled her frantic massage of your scalp, your neck, your face.

"I could be your mother, if you wanted." she whispered. "I could be that for you... I could be whatever you needed, just so long as you needed me."

Jessica seemed on the verge of a breakdown of some sort. Whether it would result in violence, in verbal aggression, tears, yelling or complete psychosis, she was close to cracking all the way.

"I just. Need you. To need me." Jessica whispered.

Pity. The first feeling that came over you when she said those words. The woman in front of you was fearsome, yes. But the truth was she was broken. For all the psychic enhancement and wisdom she'd maintained, she was scarred and brutalized, a thing of beauty and willpower turned feral and menacing due to the elements of the desert planet Arrakis. It was a look you'd seen in your mother, days before Feyd had murdered her. An animal cornered, and animal bearing it's teeth and striking out at anything that dared confront it. Fear. For all of Jessica's training and years of containing her fears, she had never conquered one. Jessica Atreides, Reverend Mother and widower of the Duke Atreides, daughter of the Baron Harkonnen, mother of the most fearsome leader of the advanced times was afraid of being abandoned, of no longer being needed.

"... I don't want a mother... I don't think I could bear treating another woman with the same type of affections as I gave my mother."

Jessica's face spasmed in grotesque anger and betrayal.

"But I need someone. And I don't have anyone to turn to."

She swallowed, a vein on her forehead bulging with the stress of containing her emotions.

"I am that person." she rasped, voice coming out in violent puffs of air. "No one else will put up with you, no one else will bother keeping you alive. You are stuck on Arrakis. The Harkonnen troops are dead, Grossu Rabban is dead. No one will come to save you." Jessica sneered, violently digging her hands into your hair. "The Bene Gesserit will abandon Princess Irulan here as the bride of Paul, the Emperor will retreat back to House Corrino with the Bene Gesserit. They will not bother hauling a bastard such as yourself with you."

Her words rang harsh, true. You needed the woman in front of you to survive, and you suspected that without someone to love, to love her back in the ways she needed, she too would find herself irrevocably insane.

"I know."

"Silence!"

Your mouth clamped shut, teeth clacking together aggressively. Jessica let out a low whimper, holding you close. She seemed to be muttering in a foreign language, eyes glazed from effort. It was becoming apparent that Jessica did not have control over her body as she said she did, or, more accurately, she was pushing it to limits that were unsustainable. You managed to reach for a glass of water. Jessica did not notice. Your throat begged for moisture, you needed the water as much as she did, but if she died and you didn't... No one would keep you alive.

"..." you tried to speak, but the command remained.

Bringing the cup to her lips, you managed to coax her into drinking. Jessica's hands flew to the cup, gulping down the water greedily. You suspected it was the first time she'd had water in days. Dates lay on the table. Again you were presented with the dilemma of eating it and fueling your weak body or giving it to the weakened Jessica. You brought the dates to her mouth, one by one until they were gone. She appeared to recover gradually. As her senses came to her, she called out to a Sayyadina, requesting something.

"You are wiser than I thought." Jessica murmured. "I had not realized how long I had been fasting."

The Sayyadina returned with food, hot and earthy smelling. She handed you a bowl, allowing yourself to eat without help. But as you struggled with coordinating in the awkward position, she ultimately grabbed the bowl, spoon feeding you like a child. Water was provided, and the relief it brought was indescribable. Jessica finished her own portion of food, ingesting more water. She appeared to be healthier now, more content and less capable of descending into madness.

"There. Now we are both taken care of." Jessica smiled. "You may speak now, the command only lasts for as long as I wish it to."

You looked around, seemingly looking for something to say to test your ability to speak, but found none. Jessica noticed this, humming appreciatively.

"Alright then, if I must speak first, so be it. You said that you did not need a mother. Of that I can understand, but do not necessarily agree with. Everyone needs a mother figure in their life, until middle adulthood I would imagine. You are young still, you require coaxing, teaching, nurturing."

Jessica's words were wise, of that you could not argue with.

"But you do not wish for a mother figure. I will not press the matter. I will allow you to naturally find that mother figure, but, you will receive all of your needs for companionship, for safety, for community directly through me."

Her words contradicted themselves, but dwelling on it seemed unwise. Jessica leaned forward, searching your eyes with hers in a way that seemed uncannily invasive.

"I'll find exactly how you need me." Jessica whispered. "Don't worry."

Her breath smelled of the curry she'd eaten. It was hot, no longer tinged with sweetness. And her eyes danced in ways that seemed almost provocative.

"... Oh no. I retract my earlier statement. My daughter was right." she whispered, voice a little husky, slightly hoarse.

A hand trailed down your thigh, nails snagging on the thin fabric, making contact with the skin beneath your pants.

"Desire."

The command inflamed your injury-restricted desires, white-hot lust burning through your body in maddening ways.

"Oh, I've always wanted to try that." Jessica smiled, eyes a little manic as she watched heat bloom over your cheeks. "Open your mouth."

It wasn't a direct command infused with the Voice, but in your altered state, it might as well have been.

"Accept the gift of my water." Jessica whispered, spitting into your mouth.

In any other circumstance, the act would have been seen as ridiculously demeaning, but combined with your basic knowledge of Fremen culture and the lust-addled state of your brain, it was enough to cause a slight gasp to fall from your lips. Jessica let out a soft laugh, kissing your cheek forcefully.

"Swallow."

You did as obeyed, her spit sliding down your throat. Jessica caught the motion with her lips, savoring the act.

"Again." Jessica whispered, hand holding your jaw.

Her saliva hit your tongue, and you closed your mouth. You waited for her lips to find your throat before swallowing. Jessica hummed, bringing your body closer.

"Now my water lives inside of you. You'll be mine before you know it."

Slowly, about as slowly as it took for your body to absorb the moisture she'd delivered you, your body stopped desiring. But the humiliation of the act lingered. The claim, the power she had of you, her words. That remained for much longer than you cared to admit.

[tumblingxelian]

Commonality

One thing I hate to see neglected or outright ignored in ML fandom is how Adrien not only did genuinely like Chloe, but understood and sympathized with her a lot of the time and that this also reflects that he is every buit as out there as she is.

The most notable moment of this being how he handled Chloe intentionally using her newly gained super powers to temporarily disable a train driver to stage a run away train incident to stop. Her goal being to prove she could be a great hero and impress her abusive mother.

We can talk about how she had no reason to think she couldn't stop the train, showed no signs of giving up even when it seemed more likely to kill her than anyone, or how it made no sense how the train did stop.

ut the important part for this post, is that afterwards, after a full on battle with CHloe, Adrien's response was to put his hand on her shoulder and say: "I know that you did the things you did to impress your mother."

He was more bothered by Ladybug losing a Miraculous than this, because on some level he probably thinks/knows he might derail a train too if it would make his father love him. & yeah, I just wish that side of him and their relationship was acknowledged more.

Now for a jokey summation of this post:

Alya: Gosh that train thing! Nino: I can't believe she did something that crazy. Marinette: Really, who would risk lives, others and their own just to please a parent?

Adrien: Wouldn't you? Alya, Nino & Marinette: N- No!?!?!? Adrien: Weird. Kagami: How the other side lives.

Chloe (Runs in) Guess what!? My mother remembered my name for the third time in my entire life! I mean she was shouting at me, but she remembered it! Adrien: Congrats Chloe! Kagami: (Nod of respect)

Alya, Nino & Marinette: (OO)

[formulapookie]

don't ask just read idk what's this

ok so I remember a while ago in the Rosquez community there was a wave of angst and we had decided in 2015 after Sepang Marc had lost the baby him and Vale had because of the kick and he never told Vale.

Now.

Migbabol episode comes out. Vale says that thing where he says Marc might have fallen on purpose just to have him penalized, that he's done that intentionally.

And Marc never really recovered completely at a mental level for the loss of the baby because despite everything he had half a thought of keeping it, and even now he's hurt by that loss because he thinks "what could've been".

He usually laughs at Vale's podcasts batshit takes, because come on, who wouldn't?

But this time he doesn't, because in his mind Vale is accusing him of having killed the baby.

And he rationally knows that Vale doesn't mean that because he doesn't even know there was a baby, but his mind just races with it.

And Alex is listening to the episode with him and sees Marc freezing and tears coming because he's till wounded. And he hugs him tight because Alex obviously knew abt the baby, and that it was Vale's and that Marc lost it in Sepang.

Say this week, Misano 2, Vale is there (for RPF reasons he doesn't have children) Marc wins again, Alex comes third, they go out to celebrate, Alex gets a bit too drunk and somehow (say Ducati throws one big party for all its teams) he runs into Vale like in the bathroom.

And oh he's angry. Like so close to punching him in the face he has to remind himself he's in Italy and punching Valentino Rossi be his death sentence.

So he just insults him, tells him he's a terrible person for saying that, that Marc fell on purpose.

And Vale, still not knowing the truth, kinds does his bastard smirk and goes "And why? He could've, he had to get me out the fight somehow"

And Alex sees red, and he just doesn't keep himself in check anymore and tells Vale "He would've never done it on purpose because he was pregnant with your fucking baby, and he wanted to tell you but you went and made him fall, and he lost the baby, the first thing he told me when he came back limping because of the crash was 'Alex we have to be sure the baby is ok', do you get it Rossi? He was more concerned for the baby YOU TWO had on the way than himself, or your fucking championship. He never, never told you because he didn't want to hurt you but I don't give a fuck, you deserve to know how much of a disgusting person you are for saying that. You know, Marc saw the podcast, because every time he's convinced you'll be less of a dick, and when he hard you accusing him of pretending to fall because of the contact he had a breakdown, he didn't eat for three fucking days because he was hurt by the loss once again. So just so you know, that day you killed your child Rossi, and you hurt my brother so much you could've just killed him too. Next time you get a mic think of this, and maybe be less of an asshole"

And Alex leaves, and Vale is just standing there in the bathroom, he isn't smiling anymore, he's practically on the verge of crying, he wants to think this is yet another Marc trick, but then he remembers how one day Marc had thrown up in the morning and woke him up or of how he had placed a hand on his own belly when raising from the gravel after the fall, in the footage he saw thousands of times.

And then Marc comes into the bathroom, and he sees Vale is there, and for a moment there's something like pain in his eyes, and then Vale is closing the distance, grabbing him by the shoulders and looking at him in the eyes with this hurt gaze and just goes "We had a baby?"

And Marc is in shock, there's four people who know, his mother, father, brother and Dovi. And none of the would've told Vale, he asked never to tell.

But he can't hide it, not anymore because he's practically crying. "Yes. We did"

"When?"

"2015, I found out one week before Sepang, I didn't want to distract you so I didn't tell you, I thought about doing it after the race but then you said those things and I didn't"

"Marc did you lose it on track?"

Marc doesn't want to say it, because yes, he did, but still even after all the hurt he doesn't want to accuse Vale of it.

"Marc tell me"

"I - yes. The doctor told me the - the kick and the fall killed it."

Something inside Vale at that point shatters, he wants to punch himself.

"So I - I killed our baby?"

And once again Marc doesn't want to answer, because in his heart he can't accuse Vale of having done this, because despite everything he's STILL in love with him.

So he just looks away and Vale knows it's the truth.

"You should've never known about it, I made them promise they wouldn't tell you"

And Vale is dying inside because what the fuck why does Marc want to protect him from the truth? After all he did?

"But please Vale, I ask you just one thing. Don't say I did it on purpose, the fall, please don't say it again. I didn't, I couldn't have, not normally but especially not with the baby. I though I could've kept it. Take a season off. So please, keep on hating me, say all you want, say to the world I came begging for you the year after but please. Don't say I fell on purpose that day. I'd prefer you telling the world I was with Lorenzo and that's why I made you loose. I'd prefer that but I beg of you don't say I killed our baby on purpose"

And vale is just shocked because Marc is practically telling him he could slaughter him and he didn't care as long as it didn't involve the baby.

And NOW he truly looks at Marc and fucking sees who he's been accusing of being a monster all this time.

And he doesn't know what to do because what exactly should you do when you discover you killed your own baby for greed? And you discover it after years because who knew didn't want to tell you not to hurt you? And you have them right in front of you after accusing him of having killed it themselves?

"Marc if you told me -"

"If I told you back then you would've called me a liar, you would've told me it wasn't yours, that I was sleeping around, that I just got pregnant because I was a whore and kicked me out"

And Vale can't argue because it's true, back then he would've reacted like this.

So he just has to watch as Marc exits the bathroom and he can't say anything anymore and just stays there for God knows how long until one of the boys finds him and drives him back home.

Uh so yes sorry it's a lot but I had to get it out