#it's like they stripped him of his only redeeming quality

[kara-knuckles]

Finished reading Keen-Edge, Silver Blade, and I feel like it made the Silverash timeline way too tight. I was always under impression that Ensia was fairly young when her parents died, and Enciodes took care of his sisters for quite a while. But if you do the math, it was only about a year, and therefore Ensia was almost old enough to be considered an adult by Kjerag's standards.

Break the Ice happens in the end of 1097 (Rhodes Island is en route to Victoria, and there are multiple prayers for the next year throughout BI). We learn there that Mom and Dad Silverash died 15 years ago (1082). But in the manga (set in the autumn of 1089) it is mentioned that Enciodes went to study in Victoria 6 years ago (1083). So this means that Ensia came of age somewhere between 1082 and 1083, and, considering her birthday is the 28th of November, it was probably 1082, the same year her parents died.

You are going to leave Kjerag next year, stop being so dramatic.

[axelsagewrites]

Sandor Clegane*Brat

Pairing: sandor x f!princess!reader

Kinktober Day twenty-three: brat taming with Sandor Clegane – after growing sick of a princess’s bratty attitude Sandor decides to teach her how to behave

Word count: 2147

Warnings: brat taming, secret relationship, teasing, reader being a brat, jamie slut shaming, fingering, p in v sex, rough sex, spanking, degrading, swearing, smut 18+

Masterlist Here

Kinktober List Here

Your footsteps were somehow both silent and quicker than his horses, something Sandor loathed as he chased about after you. being your personal guard was apparently an honour however the past two years of this honour made him consider if locking princesses in a tower was still socially acceptable.

While sure you had your moments of being tolerable, sometimes even pleasant, to the giant they called your guard dog, right now was not one of them. Usually, he appreciated your sarcastic remarks to your younger brother Joffrey, agreeing with most of your snippy quips, however today it had led to a fight between you both.

This then led to you storming around the castle, with Sandor falling behind, then to a fight with your mother which Sandor had to listen to through a door despite being absolutely starving, then when he could finally go and eat you decided to go on a walk through the forest unannounced and he had to track you down and bring you back.

“Try not to get lost again princess,” Sandor said through gritted teeth, trying not to let his stomach grumble.

You rolled your eyes as you sat on your love seat in front of the fire. “I was never lost. You just couldn’t find me,”

Sandor rolled his eyes as he went to leave however Jamie fucking Lannister decided to stop him. “The queens requested for you to stay in this room and guard the princess,”

“What about my fucking break?” Sandor spat back, not having the same gentle voice as your uncle.

“Well, it will have to wait. There are Dornish ambassadors riding into court and we cannot risk her getting…lost again,” Jamie said, and you couldn’t help stifling a laugh making Sandor want to fling you out of a window. Jamie leaned in closer, whispering to Sandor and getting his slimy breath all over him, “Prince Oberyn is coming, and we cannot risk her sullying her reputation,” he said however only Sandor was able to hear him.

“But me staying in her room all night is fine?”

Jamie looked the hound up and down before putting on his most cunty smile, “Don’t worry. I don’t think anyone will question your activities. Goodnight Clegane, best behaviour princess,” Jamie called to you before leaving, the door slamming behind him.

Sandor Groaned as he began to strip off his cloak. Like fuck was he gonna be kitted up all night in this. “What did he whisper?” you asked, reaching over to grab a grape. Sandor couldn’t tell if the way you popped it in his mouth made him more hungry, horny, or fucking angry.

“Prince Oberyn is coming to court,” Sandor said as he tossed his cloak on a chair, “So I’ve to guard you all night so you don’t go falling in his bed,”

Most women would gasp or swoon or deny the accusation, but you just barked out a laugh. It was another one of your few redeeming qualities in Sandors eyes. “How much of a whore does he think I am?” you joked, picking up your wine.  Sandor stomped over to the table, snatching the wine from your grip before plopping down in a chair. “Hey!”

“Hay is for horses,” he grumbled, gulping down the wine, “You’ve been a fucking brat all day, the least you owe me is a drink,”

“My, my, swearing in front of a lady, a princess no less,” you tsked at him as Sandor began to unbuckle his armour, “Not very honourable of you ser,”

“I’m no ser,” he said, discarding the battered metal as he reached for the next piece, “And besides I’ve done far less honourable things to you than curse in front of you,” this was of course his favourite quality in his princess. Even when you annoyed him to his core you were still the best fuck he’s ever had. “Fuck you’ve said worse things than I have,”

“Like what?”

“You know what,” he chuckled, beginning to undo his breast plate which would leave him in just a shirt and trousers. “You and that dirty mouth of yours,” he said, thinking back to all the thoughts and whimpers you’d moaned in his ear.

He did his best not to meet your eyes as they travelled down his frame, “Watcha gonna do about it?” however sent a spark down his spine. Prince Oberyn was not the one they should be worried about sullying your reputation.

Sandor dropped the metal breast plate, ignoring the clatter in made as it hit the floor as he moved to stand in front of you. his hand gripped your jaw, easily holding your whole face as he made you look him in the eye, “Don’t test me princess. You’re already on thin fucking ice,”

“Why would I want to be on ice when I could be on your…” you said, eyes trailing down his frame with a fiery spark.

He growled as his lips smashed into yours for a brief kiss that knocked the air out of your lungs. He broke the kiss, pushing your frame back into the love seat making you gasp. Within seconds his boots were off, and his arm was around your waist, hosting you over his shoulder making you squeal. Your back hit the soft bed as you desperately tried to sit up, but he was already on top of you.

“How expensive is this dress?” he asked, his fingers trailing the neckline.

“Your annual salary,” you replied and gasped when a tear ripped through the air, “Sandor!” you gasped as the cold air washed over your bare chest, your nipples perking at the feeling.

He’d ripped it just enough to be able to pull it off your body without having to hassle with any ties or laces, “Please as if you wont just pout and get a new one,” he scoffed.

“I don’t pout!” you objected, now feeling more exposed under his hungry eyes.

Sandor laughed, his eyes moving from your tits back to your face, “All you do is pout princess. All fucking day,” he said, his hand cupping your jaw as his thumb tracked over your pouted lip, “And all day I’ve been having to look at these fucking lips,” he said, his thumb prying open your mouth so he could stick his thumb inside, pressing down on your tongue, “and think about how much better they’d look around my cock,”

His words sent a shiver down your spine that didn’t go unnoticed by Sandor. “Is someone excited?” he asked, his hand gripping your thigh before slipping between them. His fingers trailed up your slit and you felt his chest rumble as he chuckled, “So wet for me already,” he said, his smile dropping for a moment, “Suck,” he commanded.

Instantly you complied, sucking on his thumb and trying not to whine as he rubbed slow circles on your clit, “Good girl,” his head dipped, moving to kiss along your collar bones as his thumb slipped from your mouth. He rubbed the spit over your bottom lip before his hand moved to tilt your jaw up, giving him space to kiss softly up your neck.

You bit your lip, slight whimper escaping as he worked on your bundle of nerves. When his fingers slipped away you whined but gasped when you felt him push two in, “Cmon don’t act like you cant take it,” he chastised, nipping at your skin enough to make you gasp but never to leave a mark, “I’ve seen you take far bigger,” he said, grinding his bulge against your leg to emphasis what was to come.

His fingers began to curl slowly inside as his thumb rested over your clit. When you whined again, this time louder and enough to make his cock twitch in his trousers, he moved his other mouth to clamp over your mouth, “Quiet,” he grumbled, curling his fingers deeper making you moan against his hand, “You know the rules princess,”

You nodded, meeting his eyes for a moment before they shut as his fingers began to brush against a familiar spot. You could feel your peak soon arriving but when you felt him pull his fingers out not even his hand could fully cover the loud whine you made. “Gods you really are a desperate thing,” he chastised, his hands moving to squeeze your hips tightly.

Before you could protest, he’d flipped you on your stomach, hand coming down on your ass leaving a stinging slap. “Hey!” you whined only to be met with another slap.

“Behave,” he chastised, keeping one hand on your ass, fondling it as the other moved to push down his breeches, “Maybe if you behave I’ll let you finish around my cock,” he said, gripping it with one hand and with the other forcing you onto your knees, ass presented perfectly for him, “Bet you’d like that wouldn’t you? me fucking you silly like some whore,” he said, running his tip up and down your wet cunt making you whine.

Instead of responding you grabbed a pillow, moving to lay your face in it when Sandor suddenly grabbed your hair, “I asked you a fucking question,” he growled, his tip pushing in slightly as your back arched.

“Yes,” you stuttered out.

“Yes what?” he asked, pulling your hair tighter, pushing slightly further in.

“Yes, I want your cock please I need it,” you whined, your hips trying to move further back onto to be stopped by Sandor, “Please I’ll be good,”

Sandor let go of your hair, your body lurching forward as you fell back into the pillow, “Wonder when I’ve heard that before,” he grunted, his hands moving to squeeze the soft flesh of your ass refusing to push his tip any further in.

“I promise,” you whined, gripping at the pillow, “I’ll behave I promise I-fuck,” you whined as you felt his cock sink further in.

Sandor hissed as he felt your cunt squeeze around him as he pushed his way in till he felt himself fully inside. He left one more slap to your ass, smirking at the way you bit the pillow instead of protesting at the stinging slap, before he started to set a steady pace.

His thrusts were slow and precise at first, making your whole-body lurch forward as he fucked you and your fingers tightened in the sheets. He could hear the stifled whines you let out and reached forward to grab your hair once more, this time gentler as he turned your head till the pillow muffled your mouth. Before you could question him, you moaned into the fabric as his pace began to quicken.

His slow thrusts had turned into heavy pounds that shook your body and made a knot grow in your stomach. His spare hand moved to squeeze your hip one more time before slipping forward to rub fast circles onto your clit. His grunts and groans were like music to your ears as your legs began to quake but falling was not an option.

Sandor cursed at the way your cunt squeezed around his cock, sucking in breath as he screwed his eyes shut. Despite how hard it was for him not to finish right there he had a job to do. He bit his lip, opening his eyes to appreciate the sight beneath him.

He could hear your muffled moans through the pillow and felt the way your body jerked and squeezed around him. “Aw is my little princess gonna cum?” he teased, his thrusts growing harder, “does she deserve to cum around my cock?” he asked but your response was muffled. Sandor pulled your hair, lifting your mouth up from the pillow, “I asked you a question,”

“Please sir,” you moaned like music to his ears, “Fuck please let me please,” you begged.

“Do it then,” he grunted, shoving your face back into the pillow, “Cum around my cock like a good whore,” his words were all it took to push you over the edge as your peak crashed around you.

However, this was not going to make him stop. Instead, his thrusts became harder and less precise as he fucked you mercilessly chasing his high while you rode yours out with eyes rolled back into your skull. It didn’t take long for him to feel the familiar twitch and suddenly pull out. With only two more jerks his seed spilled across your ass as his eyes screwed shut. “Fuck,” he gasped once he felt he could breathe again. Gently he moved his arms to lay you down on the bed.

You were too busy catching your breath to notice him searching for something till you felt him running a damp cloth over your ass to clean you up. “Still think I’m a brat?” you asked, still trying to catch your breath.

“Fuck yes. But you’re my brat,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @nyotamalfoy  @valeskafics

[sevilynne]

Sorry in advance, I'm going to rant here a bit.

Why do 80% of Snaters have to bring his looks into the discussion? Like, the way he looks has nothing to do with his character! I just saw another post calling him a "disgusting, oily, ugly man" in their rant on how he is an evil person, like... I look, apart from being a woman, exactly like him. Like, I 100% match the book description. Crooked teeth, shoulder long hair that gets greasy way to quickly, big, hooked nose, dark eyes, too skinny, walks in a "gliding" way: that's me! Why do the marauders fans have to do this?! Don't they realize that there are people, who will look like the charakter they hate on? This fucking fandom made me so insecure about my nose, that I am considering an operation at 19 years old! I just cried for half an hour after seeing jet another post about how ugly Snape is and no wonder he never found love! It just causes so much pain. If they want to hate on Snape's character, fine by me! But why can't they leave the way he looks out of it? Why?

Sorry for freaking out here, but you are one of the few pro Snape accounts one can write to anonymously and I don't want them to be able to figure out who I am. Thank you for reading this messy thing i wrote, it just needed to be said.

I must offer my deepest, sincerest apologies for posts you’ve seen. Alas, Marauder Stans possess a troubling insensitivity and thoughtless disregard for the nuances of character and narrative. In Sev V. S Marauders arguments, when they find themselves cornered without a coherent defense for their beloved quartet, rather than talk about the substantive truths about Sev, they instead throw callous, almost vulgar fixations on his appearance.

Marauder Stans, as fervent as they may be, are often proved problematic. Their disdain for Sev runs so deep that they not only dismiss his importance and erase him from his own circle but also stoop so low to attacking his appearance and ridiculing his poverty.

Marauder Stans seem to revel in disparaging Sev, often going out of their way to strip him of any redeeming qualities. It's that they take pleasure in rewriting his narrative, erasing his virtues and amplifying his flaws, making a one-dimensional caricature that serves their biases. It's a weird thing, revealing more about their own prejudices than about Sev himself.

Your appearance is a distinctive and beautiful part of who you are, but it does not, in any way, define your value or your capacity to be loved and cherished. Those who resort to attacking someone’s looks often do so because it’s the quickest, most mindless way to inflict pain. It says more about their own insecurities than it does about you. You deserve to be appreciated for the incredible person you are, far beyond the surface.

Please remember that you are so much more than any fictional character, you have your own unique story, rich with experiences and emotions that are entirely your own. Here, you are loved and valued for who you are, regardless of how you look or the way you express your personality.

You can always try to block every Marauders Stan who spews negativity about Severus’s appearance. Hypocrisy is those are often the same people who accuse him of bullying, completely oblivious to the irony of their own actions. They fail to recognize that by mocking an 11-year-old who grew up in the grip of poverty and isolation, they are perpetuating the very behavior they 'condemn'.

Have a pleasant day! (Apologies, I'm bad at comfort. And in summary, they hate Severus's character by itself and it's appearance and NOT because he bullied kids, and people like spewing insults at Severus because he is conventionally unattractive, unlike Potter and Black.)

[moons-dunes]

Warm

For Kinktober- Prompt: Bathtub sex

Kinktober masterlist

A/N: So this is actually the first time in awhile that I’ve finished writing a proper smut fic, or anything really. I’ll be honest, I’m not super happy with how the first couple turned out but they do have redeeming qualities. Someone out there will probably enjoy them :)

18+ Only MDNI

Summary: You find yourself chilly in bed on a cool fall morning. Marc finds a way to warm you up.

Pairing: Marc Spector x Female Reader

WC: ~1.9k

This work contains: Bathtub sex (obvi), fingering (f!receiving), multiple orgasms (f!receiving), light nipple play, PiV sex, unprotected sex (don’t do this in real life, we can’t afford kids in this economy), hint of D/S dynamics, it’s pretty soft and fluffy overall, please let me know if I missed anything

This was your favourite type of morning.

You and Marc were snuggled against each other in bed under the covers, with no need to rush into getting up. The nights got cooler as fall came, a perfect excuse to stay cuddled up throughout the night.

You had your head resting on Marc’s firm chest, one arm draped across him while the other rested beneath your head.

One of his hands was lazily petting your messy hair while his other arm held you against him, keeping his legs tangled with yours.

Despite how snug you were, you still found yourself to be a bit chilly.

You shifted your position a bit and slowly moved your arms until your hands found the bottom of his shirt, quickly glancing up at him to see he had his eyes closed. He didn’t suspect a thing.

You bit your bottom lip to hold back a smirk as you moved your cold hands under his warm shirt.

“Hey!” He yelped in surprise, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“Much better,” you hummed innocently, attempting to get comfortable again.

Marc had other plans.

Within a second he had you on your back beneath him, holding your offensively cold hands on either side of your head while you tried your hardest to bite back a smile.

“What was that for?” He asked with a playful smirk, tilting his head a bit as his eyes stared into yours.

Under his intense gaze you cracked a grin for a moment, your chest shaking with the effort to not laugh out loud.

“I’m cold,” you responded with a small pout, giving him your best puppy dog eyes. “Because someone won’t turn up the thermostat.”

Marc snorted out a quick laugh, his head dropping in an attempt to hide his gorgeous smile.

“We’ll boil to death if we turn it up now!”

He was right of course, the daytimes were still hot. Didn’t mean you couldn’t bug him about it.

He let go of your wrists and sat upright, climbing out of bed with a tired groan.

“Come on,” he pulled you up too, and you shivered as your feet hit the cold floor. “Let's warm you up.”

You quirked a brow at him, liking where this was going.

He led you to the bathroom, and immediately got the faucet running. He held his hand under the stream of water until he was satisfied with the temperature, pouring in a little bit of bath foam under the running water.

You quickly stripped yourself of your pajamas and he did the same, not wasting any time.

He climbed into the tub, and got comfortable in the slowly rising bubbly water. You did the same, sitting between his legs and resting your back against his chest.

The warm water was immediately soothing, chasing the chill away. You let out a pleased sigh, letting the soft scent of vanilla fill your senses.

It didn’t take long for the water to rise to the desired level with both of you in the tub, and you leaned forward to turn off the faucet before leaning back into Marc.

“Better?” He cooed as his lips brushed against your ear, his arms wrapping around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Hm. I think I’m still a bit cold,” you teased with a smirk, tracing his hands with your fingers.

“Oh really?” He feigned surprise, moving his hands up slowly until they cupped your breasts. “What are we going to do about that?”

“Guess we’ll have to figure something out…” you trailed off, leaning farther back into him.

He started massaging your tits with the perfect amount of pressure, his lips brushing across the side of your neck. You let your head fall to the side, a quiet moan escaping as his dexterous fingers started to play with your sensitive nipples.

“You like that?” He asked with a chuckle, as if he didn't know already. You nod anyway, letting out a high pitched whine as he pinches a bit.

You could feel his hardening cock pressing against your backside, hot and heavy.

“Seems like you like it too, Spector,” you breathed out, making him hum against your neck.

You arched your back a bit to press your chest further into his strong hands as he teased your perky nipples, rolling them between his fingers.

Despite being submerged in water, you felt yourself getting wet. As the heat between your thighs started to build, you started bucking your hips a bit to try and get some friction.

“So needy, baby,” he purred right next to your ear, and his hot breath against your skin made you shudder. “I’ve barely even touched you yet and you’re already so desperate.”

It was true. You could already feel a devastating heat building within you, something that happened a lot with Marc.

He always seemed to know exactly how and where to touch you; how to make your body open up to him effortlessly. And you loved it, loved the effect he had on you.

He trailed his hands down, letting them disappear into the soapy water as they wandered your body.

You gasped loudly as his hand found your clit, his other arm tightening around your waist.

“There you go. Let me hear those pretty sounds,” he encouraged as he worked his talented fingers over you, and you threw your head back against his shoulder.

You bucked your hips up into his hand, making the warm water ripple around you.

He made a V with his fingers, rubbing them up and down around your sensitive bud.

You lurched against him as he rubbed you just right, sending a bolt of pleasure through you.

His thumb found your clit, his middle and ring finger brushing against your clenching hole.

“Marc, please,” you choked out, spreading your legs as far as the sides of the tub will allow.

“You don’t have to beg me today, honey,” he assured you, pressing an open mouthed kiss into the crook of your neck. “I’ve got you. Gonna open you up for me, okay?”

You nodded frantically, still grinding your hips towards his hand.

He pressed two fingers into you, holding you still with the arm he had across your middle.

He sunk his digits as deep as they would go in his current position, shifting both of you so you’re both submerged further into the rippling water.

The new position allowed you to open your legs a bit further, giving Marc’s fingers more room to work you open.

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as he curled his fingers inside of you, finding the spot that made you see stars. He rubbed his fingers against your g-spot until you couldn’t hold back your moans anymore.

Between his thumb on your clit and his fingers working you open, you knew you weren’t going to last long.

“Baby, I-“ you choked out, interrupted by a moan as pleasure continues to rip through you.

“There’s my girl,” Marc praised you, moving his thumb faster. “Don’t hold back.”

You weren’t sure you could if you tried anyway.

He started thrusting his fingers in and out of you faster, continuing to whisper little praises in your ear.

One more curl of his talented fingers had you cumming around them, clenching down as your orgasm hits hard.

You were sure you were being loud, but in the moment you didn’t care. He fucked you with his fingers through your climax, his thumb continued to circling your clit.

You slumped back against him as the high passed, only barely registering when he took his fingers out of you.

“So good for me,” he murmured in your ear as you started to feel more grounded, your breathing evening out.

He shifted again, sitting more upright than before.

Through your slight haze, you felt his now fully hard cock pressing against your back.

You awkwardly but successfully managed to turn yourself around to face him, positioning yourself so you were straddling his lap.

You took in the sight of him, in awe of how absolutely gorgeous he looked. Drops of water decorated his olive skin, his dark eyes wide and full of desire.

Your hand grabbed his cock, lining him up with your entrance.

“Ready?” You asked through a shaky breath, running your hand up and down his length a couple times.

He gave you a quick silent nod as his hands grabbed your hips, helping you steady yourself over him.

You slowly lowered yourself down, letting out a deep groan as you felt him start to fill you up. Marc’s breath hitched for a second as he guided you down over him until he was fully sheathed inside of you, making your hands scramble to grab the sides of the tub for extra support.

“Fuck…” he grunted quietly, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment as you clenched around his thick length.

You started moving your hips with his gentle guidance, finding the perfect rhythm as water sloshed around you.

Marc found himself bucking his hips up into you, hitting that spot inside of you over and over again.

“Feels so good, baby,” he praised quietly, gripping your hips tighter. He helped you bounce up and down on his cock, his moans growing louder as you rode him faster.

You let go of the sides of the tub to grab his shoulders and bring him closer to you, pressing your lips to his eagerly.

Your nails slightly dug into his skin, making him groan into your mouth.

His gorgeous moans only spurred you on more, encouraging you to bounce on his cock faster and harder.

You felt your pussy clench around him as he hit the perfect spot with each thrust, already bringing you close to another orgasm.

You rolled your hips in the way you know he loved, trying to get him right on the edge with you.

You moved your lips from his, instead pressing heavy and desperate kisses to his jaw and neck. You easily found the spot right under his jaw that made him moan so beautifully, the sound he made was music to your ears.

Marc’s thrusts began to get sloppy as he felt himself getting close, his cock twitching inside of you.

“Marc…” you stuttered out as you pulled your lips back from his neck, your breathing picking up as you reached the edge.

“Me too,” he groaned as he buried his head into your shoulder, pulling you down onto his cock now. “Cum for me, baby.”

He held you still on top of him, his thrusts grew frantic and shallow as he came inside of you. His movements pushed you over the edge, and you squeezed around him as you reached your climax for the second time.

“Fuck, Marc!” You nearly screamed as he kept moving his hips, fucking you through your orgasm and his own. You were so sensitive, but it felt heavenly.

You felt your legs start to shake, and you fell half limp into Marc’s chest. Your arms tightened around his shoulders, digging your fingers into his skin desperately.

As he stilled his movements, both of you were breathing heavily. He brought his hands up to your waist, holding you against him as you both came down from the high.

You two sat like that in silence for a bit, tangled up in each other in the lukewarm water and breathing hard.

When you felt like you could move again, you slowly straightened yourself up, admiring the soft gleam in Marc’s eyes.

You lifted your hips carefully, letting out a small whine as his soft cock slipped out of you.

“Warm enough now?” He teased with a cocky smile, his hands running up and down your back in a soothing motion.

“Uhhh…” you pretended to contemplate his question, looking up at the ceiling for a second. “Maybe we can leave the thermostat turned down for a bit longer.”

[ryukatters]

def gojo, but also toji and maybe y’all are like competing assassins who run into eachother sometimes

⟡ word count: ~700

⟡ a/n: your brain is so big

⟡ Based on this ask

Your target is right ahead of you.

Just a few more feet, the two of you will be away from any wandering eyes and security cameras— and you’ll be in the clear to take him out with a single blow.

It’s an older gentleman— a local politician, you’ve been told, with connections to the black market. Made a few people working underground unhappy with some new laws passed. So you’ve been ordered to execute him.

You get jobs like this all the time. You don’t necessarily like what you do, but you don’t necessarily hate it either. It’s something that brings food to the table, allows you a roof over your head. Despite your unconventional career, it’s actually pretty stable, given your high success rate and gracious recommendations from satisfied clients.

Stable, as long as you’re the one actually doing the killing.

You blink once and suddenly your politician has a bullet going straight through his skull.

“You’ve gotta be faster than that, sweetheart.”

The politician’s body hits the floor with a dull thud. You hardly pay attention because all you hear is the rush of blood in your eardrums and all you can see is that annoying smirk on that stupid face of his.

Damn him.

You stomp towards Toji angrily, pointing an accusing finger into his (well-built) chest, “That was my target, you freak!”

“Was it? Well that’s too bad. Looks like you’ll have to pick up another job elsewhere,” he sneers. “Think you could make a pretty penny with those tits of yours.” He stares down at them pointedly. You feel your cheeks burn from humiliation.

“Oh fuck off, Fushiguro.”

“I’d much rather fuck you.”

Toji Fushiguro: a quick, money hungry, infamous assassin. Or, as you often call him— a pain in the ass. Your ass specifically, since he seems to have a tendency to sabotage all of your missions.

He’d argue that he simply has a penchant for pretty things, and you’re a high he has yet to come down from.

“You’re deplorable,” you spit, arms crossing over your chest. “A waste of space. Are you really so broke that you feel the need to steal someone else’s kill? Maybe you’re the one that needs to pick up a gig at the local strip club.”

Your words do nothing— they bounce off him as if he were a wall of solid steel. He might as well be. Nothing could ever penetrate Toji, physically and emotionally.

“So everyone can see the scratches you leave on my back?” He sneers, taking a step closer. He smells like sweat and cheap cologne. It’s intoxicating. “Dunno why you’re pretendin’ to hate me s’much with the way you’re creamin’ on my cock all the time.”

“Maybe because that’s the only redeeming quality you have,” you bite back. Toji merely chuckles, as if the venom spewing from your lips lacks virulence. And maybe it does.

“You’re pretty spunky today, baby. You know how much it turns me on when you put up a fight.”

You let out a growl, swinging your arm to punch him, but he’s gone from your sight before you even get the chance to land a blow. That’s the second time you’ve missed tonight.

He appears behind you before you can react.

Toji presses a kiss to the nape of your neck, relishing in the way you suppress a shiver as he leans down to his whisper in your ear, “Gotta be faster than that, sweetheart.”

You hate him. You remind yourself that every single time you see him.

“Bring that attitude with you tonight and see where that gets you,” he murmurs, allowing himself a rough nip at your jugular— a little taste of the inevitable. “You know where to find me.”

The words ring in your mind, each syllable being burned into your hippocampus with every passing second. You make quick work of delivering the corpse to your handler before you’re off to find a certain assassin.

Toji Fushiguro would ruin your life. Yet for some reason, you can’t find it in you to push him away when he calls.

[markantonys]

Rafe said that they have plans for Anvaere down the line and I am like 90% positive she's gonna be the show's version of Colavaere with her motives being restoring the Damodred name. And with Rand knowing her plus her being Moiraine's sister that's gonna give that whole plot, especially with Rand refusing to kill her (and it'll be cause she's all he has left of Moiraine rather than cause she's a woman) a lot more emotional weight

yes!!! i might even go so far as to say i'm 100% positive haha the idea of this merger had never occurred to me prior, but once rafe said they have plans for her later, i went OH. i should've guessed straightaway that all the focus on a basically show-only character would be A Surprise Tool To Help Us Later in addition to the present benefit of fleshing out moiraine and cairhien! the show's always doing its best to kill multiple birds with one stone.

anyway, audiences typically feel the impact that killing someone has on a character more strongly if the victim is somebody we and/or the killer and/or other major characters have a connection to. of course in real life, for an innocent country villager who's not accustomed to violence, killing someone would be traumatic no matter who they are, but this isn't real life, it's a story, and in a story audiences are more likely to roll their eyes over a character being overburdened with morality for freaking out over killing some random asshole we hated anyway (especially a fantasy story where death and violence are commonplace). this is why laila's death being the origin of perrin's fears of his own capacity for violence hits harder than it being the deaths of a couple of random whitecloaks who were threatening him and egwene.

and similarly, we will feel how traumatic anvaere's death is for rand way more deeply than colavaere's, because out-of-world she's a character we've spent time with who was friendly to our heroes and who we came to like and because in-world she's someone rand came to like and is the sister of his mentor whose death he feels responsible for, like you say. plus, the show establishing anvaere as someone who spent her whole life working admirably hard to improve the reputation of her family - not only does it set up why she might be driven to suicide upon having her house stripped of its titles, it even lends some sympathy and dignity to it, framing it as that popular idea of honorably falling on your sword rather than living to be humiliated in defeat (very roman of her), and this will make it more emotional, and if WE'RE emotional over anvaere's death on its own merits, then we'll completely understand and feel rand's pain over it too. colavaere was just some random selfish power-hungry idiot with no redeeming qualities whom rand only tried to spare and whose death only upset him because Women Are Delicate And Precious And Must Be Protected.

sudden thought: if the end of this plotline is house damodred being permanently stripped of its status, could that be more evidence to predict elayne's dad was not a damodred in showverse? since she wouldn't have a claim on the sun throne if house damodred were to be completely, irreversibly ruined in this plotline. i've already been assuming her dad wasn't a damodred in showverse since there are other signs pointing in that direction, but this could be yet more possible evidence to add to the pile.

[snowblack-charcoalwhite]

I apologize in advance for how long this is but I've been so disappointed in this season and my only consolation is knowing other fans share my feelings. Going through your blog has been a relief. I honestly can't believe how badly they've mishandled Aemond this season.

I don't even think it's the plot itself, it's how they execute it that's so frustrating. If you insist on having these moments at least make them make sense for the character. I could see a rift forming between him and Alicent, pushing Aemond into being more cold and distant, but making that happen off screen makes it much less believable. Have him come home still shaken from what he's done and seeking comfort from the only person who's ever given him any. Only for that person to reject him in anger, forcing him to bottle up his own vulnerabilities. If you have to make him dismiss Alicent from the council, make it a misguided attempt to make it up to her, to 'save' her because she looks so miserable. A 'you can rest now mother, I will handle this' kind of thing. It's another form of the misogyny they tirelessly insist on pushing but it works better for his character. Make him try to bargain with Aegon for his silence, telling him that it's crucial for the stability of the realm if the truth doesn't come out, that Aemond only did what was necessary you see. It would be so interesting to see him try and pontificate while Aegon is just lying there whimpering and scared out of his mind. Add the threats in there but have Aemond provide some justification for his actions even though he once again let the monster in him take over in that battle.

I've always felt like the difference between Daemon and Aemond was that Deamon shamelessly pursued his own interests while Aemond had this angry righteousness to him. He felt slighted and mistreated all while seeing himself better than those around him. Seeing him try to justify his mounting cruelty while slowly spiraling and becoming more and more like his impulsive, selfish uncle would have been so interesting to see.

Alas, all we get is a shell of a once interesting character. It's such a shame to see him stripped of his only redeeming qualities. They've practically removed all the nuance from his character and I'll forever be disappointed by that.

Hello, and thank you for your message!

No need to apologize, I'm grateful to you for sharing your opinion - and glad that me doing the same on my blog could be of some help to you.

I loved the expression you used - "angry righteousness". In season 1 Aemond was built up as a dutiful son who is ready to do what is needed for his family in spite of his own ambition - that he has in spades - and that made his loyalty even more remarkable. I believe it would have been more in accordance with that characterization if Aemond had been actually shown to yearn for power because he truly believes he is the one that could wield it to the maximum advantage of his family. And the saddest thing is that it is exactly the angle Ewan has on Aemond's motivation, according to his interviews, but the script gave us nothing to support it with. Once again, the actor understands and cherishes his character way more and way better than the writers.

I also completely agree with you on the matter of poor execution. However much I dislike the fact of Aemond distancing himself from his family as a plot move (not giving any thought to Jaehaerys' murder, attacking Aegon, dismissing Alicent), the worst part is that his actions (or inaction) are kind of disconnected from each other - we can see the "what"- and we are kind of supposed to see the "why", I guess - but the pieces of the puzzle are not coming together. Aemond mostly remains closed off not only from other characters but from the audience as well, and the few vulnerable moments the script gave him work mostly thanks to Ewan's acting. And in general - there is not nearly enough of Aemond in this season where he was supposed to be one of the main characters.

Overall, this season is a huge disappointment (and not only because of what has been done to Aemond's character) but at least the acting has been top notch (from Ewan in particular and from pretty much everyone else) just as it was in season 1. It doesn't make up for all the flaws (if only in part) but I, for one, am going to take every crumb of goodness this excuse of a show will give.

[feanoryen]

Yooo, so, since I know from your posts you’re not Team Black, I just wanted to ask, are you Team Neutral (like me) or Team Green? Thank you for taking the time to read this :D

I'm Team "Anti Viserys" & "done with HoTD"

...but I guess you can say I'm Team Neutral.

I think both sides were valid for fighting for the throne (though merely saying this will be enough to make Team Black hate me)

Rhaenyra because it was promised to her & Aegon because I don't think he deserved to be treated as less than his half-brother Baelon, who Viserys did name heir over Rhaenyra (I think it's unfair that Alicent's children wasn't treated equally by Viserys to Aemma's).

Aegon II is my favorite dance era character in Fire & Blood, but words can not describe the loathing I feel for his HoTD counterpart.

Not only is he a word I will not be using RN, he's also just really f*cking annoying in general & is stripped of every redeeming quality he had in the book. I loved his bond with Sunfyre, his bravery, his willfulness, his cold AF lines, & the deep love he had for his little brothers. That doesn't exist in the HBOverse though, so what's there for me to like?

I also liked & sympathized with Rhaenyra though & far as HoTD is concerned, I was Team Black (by that I mean Team Rhaenyra, I don't support D@em0n the predator & child killer) because Aegon in the show deserves a far far worse fate than he had in the book & I want to kill him with my bare hands, but I stopped watching that shitshow.

[morgana-ren]

First of all hi, I'm a new anon and just found your account today. I'm loving literally everything that I've read so far. Second your writing has made me ponder a Yandere Astarion with a Changeling Tav.

I can see him finding out about that and not only being fascinated by her ability but trying to convince her to change into him so he could see what he looked like for the first time in hundreds of years. Imagine him getting obsessive over her as she is the only way he can actively see what he looks like.

When Astarion was forcefully turned into a vampire, more than just his form was taken from him. His autonomy, his will, even his very nature was plucked clean from what was his human carcass. He entered undeath having been stripped clean of everything that made him him: reborn a slave to Cazador in his entirety.

That can cause a massive interpersonal crisis; one that you see him going through first hand. His self esteem and respect are very low, still viewing himself as a tool and a means to an end. He will, if bidden, go along with whatever it is he is told to, because his backbone has been broken time and time again.

Him becoming obsessed over a changeling sparks as he finally sees himself in her, all the truest, best parts of him that he craves to remember. Something more than just the slave he's come to see himself as. She reflects what she sees of him— a charming, strong, incredible man, and he needs to see himself as she sees him. Not so much the petty vanity he enjoys so, but the genuine love and care in someone else's heart that's all for him.

He becomes obsessed with the beautiful way she sees him, the way she reveres and respects him. What she morphs into is a reflection of his own beauty in her mind. The sharp, haunting eyes, the dangerous crook of a grin, lithe and strong and somehow regal.

He's been forced to scrape in the dirt for so long that that's how he started to view himself. But through her, he can see something far more precious: her love given form.

Don't get me wrong, he's still a creature very tantalized by vanity, clearly. After all, it was praised as his only redeemable quality for hundreds of years. But there's something infinitely more precious about seeing himself through someone else's eyes, both skin and soul deep.

[so-i-grudgingly-joined-this-site]

Dream doesn't seem to have any good qualities at all unlike his siblings. He doesn't care about people, he's cruel, ruthless and selfish. He blames others for his problems and he doesn't care about those that live in the Dreaming.

Did... Did Desire send this in? 😂 Okay, I'll try and tackle this in three parts: 1) How does he compare in "good qualities" to the other Endless, 2) when does he actually show any good qualities, and 3) addressing the blaming others/lack of care for his subjects.

Note that there are some later-comics spoilers ahead, since I had to pull some examples from there. I have no idea how far you are in the story, so I couldn't limit examples to a specific non-spoiler time frame.

So, to address point #1, it kind of seems like the Endless in general lack a lot of redeeming qualities.

Destiny and Death are truly neutral in everything. Death gets good PR, basically, because she's friendly, but she's still ultimately neutral. Honestly even her friendliness gives me "really good at customer service" vibes rather than feeling like a sign that she'd actually be friendly or nice to anyone in particular.

Desire doesn't do anything especially heroic that we see; the best they do is giving Tiffany their coat when she escapes the burning strip club in Brief Lives. They do save Dream via Alianora in Overture, but even then it's with a nasty caveat. In addition, Desire's the one behind all the Walker family's supernatural problems. Heck, Desire only had the newer generations of Walkers so they could selfishly use them in their plans against Dream. In comics canon they're also a rapist.

Destruction's whole deal is running away from every problem--which indeed comes across as sensible compared to his siblings. He mostly just likes being left alone with his cooking and bad art. But, he has no qualms whatsoever about killing innocents in order to keep running away.

Despair... we don't really get to see her do much so I think she falls under the "neutral" category too.

Delirium is too out of it to really do much intentionally, and what we *do* see her do intentionally is reckless driving and giving an eternal spiders hallucination-curse to the traffic cop who tries to stop her. Her irrational determination to see her brother continues even after it's clear it's actively causing people to get hurt. She doesn't seem to care about people for sure.

So, like. This entire family sucks. I'm not sure I'd say Dream is particularly worse, we just happen to see more of his issues because he's the main character.

Okay, now on to point #2. He does indeed care about others, on occasion, and also has unambiguously heroic moments.

In terms of "caring about others", he's the one who tries to call off the road trip in Brief Lives when he realizes that Destruction's alarms are killing people (although he doesn't find out Destruction is behind the deaths until Death forces him to continue the road trip for Delirium's sake). He seems highly disturbed by Ruby's death in particular, which is part of why I was so peeved at The Sandman Companion giving HIM the blame for it.

He's also canonically good with children; it's just adults he's terrible with. He's nice to the girl on the plane in Brief Lives, he entertains a group of children on a dream-adventure when we see him going about his duties in The Kindly Ones, and Calliope notes in The Wake that his issues with Orpheus apparently didn't start until Orpheus grew up. In Overture he's also kind and protective toward the alien girl Hope.

As for "heroic" moments... okay, I really had to think for some of these, but they ARE there.

Rescuing Calliope is probably the most unquestionably "heroic" situation he's in, since he was not the cause of the situation in the first place, and also has nothing to gain by helping. But he does help her, nonetheless.

Also, he takes hundreds of serial killers off the streets by stripping them of their beliefs at the Cereal Convention. It's hard to say that wasn't a positive move. Plus, one of the reasons he dislikes The Corinthian could be that Cori was causing so much harm to people in the first place.

Even before his big fishbowl time-out, Dream tells off Hob for participating in the slave trade and disapproves of slavery. (I'm going to ignore what The Sandman Companion says about that here...)

He helps Marco Polo out of the Soft Places desert, even though he himself had just barely escaped the fishbowl and wasn't sure if he had enough power to save both himself and Marco.

In my favorite issue ever, Fear of Falling, he gives Todd the advice he needs to get over his crippling fears in both the real world and the dream world.

Also, his treatment Nuala is a good indication that he's not the worst. Nuala gets gifted to him as a slave, to do "whatever he pleases" with... and his first instinct would be to reject such a gift entirely, but since he is bound by the fae's customs to accept any gift, he just basically lets her live in his castle rent-free. She takes up cleaning so she has something to do; he didn't even ask her to do that! His only demand is that she not use her glamour. If he were truly as cruel and uncaring about consent as some analyses (including parts of The Sandman Companion) would have you believe, it's doubtful that he'd treat an intended sex slave that way.

(Of course, if I were being uncharitable, I could point out that non-glamour Nuala is not conventionally attractive, and it could be something about him only being able to respect a woman if she's not sexually attractive to him... but I'm *trying* to be charitable to Morpheus here, for once)

And now for #3: Not caring about the Dreaming residents and blaming others for everything.

Admittedly, in the comics it is harder to tell specific instances about caring for the Dreaming residents, but there are a few. A big one is that he granted Lucien's wish to become a librarian rather than staying as a raven. Another is Abel's story about how he came to live in the Dreaming; Dream offered it to him as a gift, and when he was lonely he also brought Cain and gave Cain a house as a gift toward Abel.

I've been trying to keep this to the comics-universe for consistency's sake, but the show-universe definitely gives way more examples about him caring about his subjects. He gives Goldie to Cain and Abel to replace their gargoyle he had to absorb, he clearly cares about Jessamy and cries over her death, and he seems more upset about his subjects abandoning the realm as a personal abandonment instead of just a "they're my citizens so they should stay here" type deal. Of course, he also granted Lucienne her wish to become a librarian here as well.

And as for blaming others for everything... whew. That's a big one. Because even though he may have done that on some significant occasions (Nada being the biggest one that we see), ultimately, he ends up blaming HIMSELF for everything to an unreasonable degree. I actually won't discuss further examples on this one because it would be massive ending spoilers, but yeah, suffice it to say he overcorrects on that front.

So yes, for Morpheus, I think I'd paraphrase a line from Guardians of the Galaxy (2014) that I think describes him well: He's an asshole, but not 100% a dick.

[gojuo]

Tell us now your top 5 most hated characters on ASOAIF and F&B please!

My no.1 most hated ASOIAF character is Tywin Lannister. I hate this man. I hate him very much. I wish he would go away and die somewhere where he will inconvenience no one but the vultures. I loathe his manner. I loathe his style. I loathe the fact that he dares draw breath in a world where my loved ones do not or rather cannot because he murdered them. I loathe that he was rewarded for behavior which, in-universe, he should have been quartered for. I want him dead. I want to kill him and destroy him. I want him died. #SCENE #ANGER #FUCK #DIE #HATERED

There is not a single ounce — not even a miniscule amount ­— of sympathy I have for this scumbag. Not a single thing likeable about him. Not a single redeeming quality he has to his name. From the first moment he showed up on page until the very last mention of him, he was nothing short of disgusting. He is diabolical, satanic, monstrous, loathsome, ghoulish, sadistic, cruel, insert every single synonym of the term demonic here, etc. etc. I hate him. I hate him I hate him I hate him I hate him.

The whole “Yeah he’s evil uwu but Charles Dance is so granddaddy I can fix him <3" sales pitch this low IQ fandom has been pushing since the dawn of that accursed adaptation on top of it all only makes the intense disgust I hold for him so much fucking worse. Tywin Lannister has no conscience, no charisma, no morals, and he has no honor — all of that in an un-sexy way, one of the greatest crimes a villain with no traumatic backstory could objectively ever commit. Never mind the beyond immoral execution of the Red Wedding (“Machiavellian” my ass. Any stupid fool who says this crap needs to go back to elementary school in order to relearn how to read and how to interpret literature and themes in literature right the fuck now), never mind the severe mental torture he’s put his own flesh and blood through to the point where two of them are in a destructive incestuous relationship with each other and the other pushed to the point of patricide, this monster had his son's fourteen-year-old little child-wife gangraped by his guards, had each of them give her a silver coin after one was done with her, then had thirteen-year-old Tyrion rape her last and, contrary to the others, give her a gold coin because “Lannisters are worth more”. All because she was a common-born little girl who dared to marry the disabled son he hated so much. Am I supposed to think this piece of shit falls under the sexy evil category of villains? What sad backstory does this trash have to his name that would woobify him enough to “if villain bad why sexy” him? His father had a few mistresses after his mother died and gave them gifts and cared for them? Was that the tragic past of his that elevated him enough for people to wash their conscience clean so to cross moral boundaries all to lust after this so-called “sexy villain”? Tywin Lannister had his father’s mistress, who was nothing but a poor common-born daughter of a candle-maker, stripped naked and paraded through the streets of Lannisport for two whole goddamn weeks, and forced her to tell every man she came across that she was a thief and a whore, quite alike to what he did to Tysha as well. This man hates women. I cannot stress this enough, like Tywin Lannister hates women. And not just women, but especially commoner women. His modus operandi is inflicting sadistic sexual violence on any and all women he doesn’t like (which is like, all of them). As a true “if villain bad then why sexy” connoisseur and quite frankly, the president of the club, this man is not, never was and never will be a part of that esteemed category of villains.

And you know something that’s a veeery personal ick of mine — and this is really the icing on the cake for me — is shit-for-brains dickriders of this ghoul having the gall to pretend like he did not explicitly order the murder of Elia and her babies, that he apparently just “let” Clegane and Lorch loose on them. These low IQ fucks know what that demon did to his father’s poor mistress and what he did to little Tysha, and then somehow they still think this sadist with a severely fragile ego did not tell Clegane and Lorch to do what they did to her with his own mouth? Any waste-of-space who parrots this BNF-drivel (all said in order to minimize what happened to Elia, Rhaenys and the baby in place for Aegon) is not only going on my blocklist like immediately, they also need to die. Respectfully.

Now, I mostly spoke on his character from a moral standpoint, but I want to make clear that this loser’s shortcomings aren’t only morality-based. All the shit-for-brains stans this demon has know he has no morals so they always deflect to the “b-b-but he’s a military genius, that’s why I like him, I’m so edgy!!!” excuse and I want to emphasize how fucking stupid you have to be to believe Tywin is anything but brainless. AFFC is literally right there. GRRM’s explicitly spells out to the reader through Jaime’s POV how fucking stupid Tywin was in everything that he did. How the only show of military genius this demon had was through being nothing but a bully. All his work unraveled the second he died. He built nothing, and he will go down in history as nothing. That’s why his one and only legacy will always be that he got murdered on the shitter by his own son, like the fucking loser that he is.

I hate this fucking character with every fiber of my being.

On number 2 stands Aerys II Targeryen. Do I even need to explain this? What I said about Tywin applies to this racist, rapist, fascist piece of shit as well. I’m not going to waste my time and money psychoanalyzing this bottom-of-the-barrel trash. Aerys is the pinnacular culmination of three hundred years of Targaryen delusion, self-worship, egotism and five thousand years of Valyrian hubris, god-complex, and megalomania. Him and his daughter both, but I’ll get to her in a minute. This man’s lucky he’s only got 2 stans — and those two are only stanning just to be contrarians — unlike Tywin, who’s got an actual dedicated fanbase. Ugh. Two peas in a pod. One edge he has over Tywin is that at the very least Aerys has some sort of tragic backstory that’s actually valid. Too bad for him idgaf. Pour one out for Rhaella :(

My third most hated is ... Daenerys. Man… How do I even open this can of worms… I’ve a whole tag dedicated to hating her, soooo awkwardly waves hand in that direction. Everything about Daenerys is just so … racist. Racist on an in-universe level, racist on a meta level and racist on a fandom level, so I was never going to like Daenerys no matter what. The fact that she has the most insane and delusional and downright disgusting fanbase ever in all of media history really doesn’t help her case. If they hadn’t been this rabid and racist, then I don’t think I would have hated her this much. Because then I could’ve just had her character be as she is: the Paul Astreides of the series. A false Messiah, basically. The meta-level racism (GRRM making every single antagonist in her plotline nothing but walking, talking Reel Bad Arabs tropes; the use of POV trap which leads to none of the brown and black supporting characters in her story having a voice; GRRM’s own racism as in exotic-erotic tropes for all of the Essosi people, really badly researched POC cultures he based the Essosi off of, using brown and black people as nothing but props for the main white girl) and Daenerys’ in-universe racism (conquering and colonizing lands and peoples; white saviorism; imperialism; her hypocritical use of slavery) would still be there, of course, and I still would not have been able to stomach it meaning I still would not have rooted for her in any way, but then at the very least I would not have been subjected to a long decade of fandom racism being justified through the excuse of her freeing slaves from evil Reel Bad Arabs (spoiler alert: she is not freeing anybody).

Ugh, I don’t wanna talk about her. Everything about her from her character to the plot and storyline and her place in the narrative is downright insulting to me as a WOC, and quite frankly, any WOC that lays down their lives to defend this girl baffles me. Like, stop it. Please have some self-respect.

Then comes Jaehaerys the Old King. Father and inventor of misogyny. It’s crazy.

No. 5 is Rhaenys I and Daeron I the Young Dragon. EVERY TONGUE THAT RISES AGAINST THE DORNISH SHALL FALL!!!

[neon-moon-beam]

I've lost any interest in Submas because of what the fanbase did to Volo, stripped him of all his redeeming qualities to turn him into a Ghetsis clone. And yet no matter how many times I see it, my heart inwardly screams "LOOK HOW THEY MASSACRED MY BOY".

Oh my god yes. Volo has been done dirty so badly by the Submas fandom and other people who enjoy him to the point of it being the default.

Volo is a fairly complex character. He can’t be reduced to “unhinged and will hurt people when given the chance lol” or whatever else the fandom likes to do all for the sake of making things angstier, especially when it comes to Submas. In-game, he’s in more of a grey area and comes off as a character with issues having a bad moment, not an overall bad person. I'd put him somewhere around the same level as Archie and Maxie in terms of how much of a villain he is:

-Not entirely a bad guy, just bad ideas, bad solutions to problems (that might only be a personal problem for him or a select few, we know he had a rough life but we aren’t told how or why, but it has created his entire worldview and motivation)

-Might not have actually followed through with his plan anyway (he does have things he genuinely cares about, and say what you will about salty and rude Togepis in Hisui but he had high enough friendship with one to get a Togekiss)

-His feelings of being wronged in life and wanting to hold someone or something accountable, get answers, maybe an apology or to make things right is a fairly common human experience. He just lives in a world with magical monsters where confronting one with the ability to instantly change things is a definite possibility.

-Unlikely Arceus would have listened to him, Giratina did not want to listen to him (and Giratina is the failsafe when Dialga and Palkia are out of commission), so even though he appeared to have the means to reshape the world, he really did not

-Accepted the player character defeated him, stopped antagonizing, and probably left Hisui to sort out his issues

-Also is NOT responsible for Ingo being in Hisui (I did make a huge in-depth post about how he could have gotten there, and the evidence does NOT stack up in favor of Volo being the cause)

Sometimes it feels like people didn’t interact with PLA in any capacity and just go with whatever the fandom says about these characters, or else just don’t care about canon whatsoever, and that can be really alienating to other fans. Especially when other fans do like the canon characterization and all they can find is ooc depictions, bad takes, and anything else where it's essentially Volo in appearance only.

I know some people have said they never want to see Volo interact with Submas ever again, and I agree. Cr*zytr*inshipping and tr*inwr*ckshipping are built on ableism, the idea that mental illness is “scary”, and grossly mischaracterizing Volo, and at least Emmet (not sure about Ingo because I refuse to bother with content containing these ships or even interactions between these characters).

Volo deserves so much better. I’m sorry fandom spaces are not kind to him.

[vidreview]

VIDREV: "The Biggest Lie in Hollywood | Technicolor" by NationSquid.

[originally posted june 15th 2024]

i'm just going to be honest right here at the start so we're all on the same page: i do not think this is a particularly good video. it is by no means bereft of redeeming qualities, but those qualities are massively overshadowed by this essayist's reliance on assumptions, generalizations, and outright bad information. in this review i'm going to talk about both the good and the bad, but understand that i'm not interested in being mean for the sake of meanness, nor am i here to bully or make fun of anyone. at time of writing this video has 90,000+ views, and NationSquid's channel has 390,000+ subscribers. with an audience of that size, i think some measure of critical scrutiny is warranted.

"The Biggest Lie in Hollywood" is about the history of color film in general, and the development of the 3-strip Technicolor process specifically. the "lie" in question is the idea that Technicolor films are truly "in color," because technically they were shot in black and white. this is true by a dictionary's standards, and to NationSquid's credit he does a good job explaining the process that led him to this conclusion. with Technicolor, three strips of monochrome film are shot with red/blue/green filters in front of each; when developed, those monochrome film strips are then dyed cyan/magenta/yellow; when projected on top of each other, the result is the "appearance" of full-spectrum color, despite the fact that no color information was captured on set. basically: Technicolor films aren't "in color" because they weren't shot on color film.

it would be very easy to spend the bulk of this review hammering on that specific technicality. first of all, color information was captured on set. you have three different monochrome frames capturing the relative luminance of a scene as shot through three colored gels. yes, technically even after the dying process those three frames are still monochrome… but they're monochromes in three different hues. it's not a "trick" or an optical illusion that they reproduce color when combined, it's just how light and color work. NationSquid insists several times that this is proof that Technicolor films aren't "in color," that it's actually "your eyes tricking you," but that just is not true. the process is irrelevant; if the end result appears to your eyes to be "in color", then it is definitionally in color. his later furtherance of this supposed presentational deception through the lens of a CRT's phosphor dots at least has a symbolic case in that, if you look close enough, the image is actually a matrix of red green and blue rather than a "perfect" reproduction. but even then, is an old school superhero comic not "in color" if it uses the Ben Day process? are human beings not really "made of matter" because matter's actually just a collection of atoms?

you get my point. but if that were my only complaint, i wouldn't be writing this review. bold assertions aside, his explanation of how technicolor works is generally pretty good. he even reproduces the process through still photography, then later again in CRT video to believably insert himself into an episode of The Brady Bunch. this is cool! i like it when essayists do this! there is a level of technical knowledge here that's impressive and effective. but his faulty thesis carries water for dozens of tiny generalizations that range from odd to annoying to revisionist to outright falsehood. for example, early on he confidently says "you probably think The Wizard of Oz was hand-painted frame by frame to be in color," thus setting up this video as debunking a "popular misconception" that i've never heard anyone say in my entire life, and on this particular subject i've been paying attention for a long time. this moment has the air to me of a formative personal experience from one's youth (ie thinking Oz's color was hand-painted before learning about Technicolor) being misconstrued as an obvious universal experience. could be wrong, but that's my gloss. this is something everyone does sometimes, but your writing is stronger when you pause to reflect on these personal connections any time one makes it into a script to make sure it actually holds up to scrutiny. consider that a running theme of this review.

before we even hit the one minute mark, NationSquid bafflingly states that "no matter how immersive [B&W films] were, absolute suspension of disbelief was never possible. there was always one thing missing… color." it's an easy enough statement to let roll over you when you're still trying to get your bearings through the introduction. it feels like a dangerously impetuous way to start, but lord knows sometimes you gotta oversimplify to write through the opening minutes efficiently. hell, sometimes you even put such flags in as a deliberate trap-- you know, play towards an easy conventional conclusion only to critically re-evaluate it with a more nuanced one later on. i did as much in my recent video about the Doctor Who 60th Anniversary Specials, where i spent significant time praising the show's practical effects before circling back around later to highlight the essential role that digital effects play even in practical effects-heavy productions, and how often we throw digital effects workers under the bus in our haste to praise practicals. now, i personally find the idea that color or lack thereof has any bearing on "suspension of disbelief" to be totally nonsensical, but whatever, sometimes you say wack shit to get where you want to go, and that's probably not even really what the video is about anyway… is certainly what i hoped. but after about thirteen minutes of generally pretty good technical process explanation, the video then jumps into a crash course on early film history which, uh, leaves some things to be desired.

he talks about B&W film as possessing a "degree of separation" which allows viewers to console themselves that everything on screen is make-believe. by lacking the color dimension, you see, B&W denaturalizes its subject and makes it feel less real. perhaps there's an argument to be made there, except NationSquid frames it as though the B&W film experience is inherently less affective due to the absence of color. he never says as much directly, but his conclusion sure seems to be that our experience of media today is qualitatively more nuanced and sophisticated than it was 50 years ago, that people today feel more deeply, experience more vividly the contours of a film's world when it is in color. consider the following paragraph:

It's much easier to watch footage of the Vietnam War in black and white, because it makes the events feel further away. "This is a whole other world, it couldn't happen to me." if you met Elvis in person, you'd probably faint. I would probably faint. But instead, you can watch him in the comfort of your own home. Film and television allow you to feed into your curiosity of what is being shown on screen without the consequences, and with black and white it was even moreso. And it's this exact frame of thinking that allowed black and white pictures to serve as their own form of art in the film world, which prolonged its dominance over color.

citation needed. citation needed. citation needed. if B&W footage of the Vietnam War made it feel further away, how do you explain the massive student protest movements that helped get the draft rescinded and end the war? do people today seem any less prone to distancing themselves from contemporary wars now that their coverage is in color? what "consequences" are we avoiding by watching film and television-- as opposed to what, literally meeting Elvis Presley the man in real life? where's the relevant profundity in pointing out that these are different experiences? is media duplicitous for not bombing us in real life when we watch footage of a bombing? and how is B&W "even moreso" prone to this consequence-free affect when it comes from a time when virtually all film and television was B&W, including all the same kinds of essential journalism we have today? i just want to take a big red pen to that last sentence. what do you mean by "frame of thinking"? what do you mean by "form of art"? what mechanism, precisely, do you think allowed B&W to "prolong" its dominance?

elsewhere there is a discussion of how silent film evolved towards sound and color. nominally this is meant as a comparison point for how other major technological transitions were received, opening the door for what should be an interesting discussion of artistic epistemology. i know that it should be interesting because this era is a special interest of mine, which is why i can't let it slide that NationSquid namedrops Cecil B. Demill and DW Griffith as "innovating the landscapes" of silent cinema (????) and then moves on as if the matter is settled. here's a protip for all you aspiring video essayists out there: if your essay is all about correcting a "popular misconception," make sure you do at least a cursory investigation of all your other inherited conceptions first just in case you're missing an opportunity to add more nuance and context to your discussion. it's not even that Demill and Griffith are unimportant figures, but rather that saying their names alone in 2024 without mentioning, say, Mary Pickford, Dorothy Arzner, Alice Guy Blaché, or any one of the hundreds of women who dominated and defined silent cinema betrays a shallow wikipedia-level understanding of the history at best. you only bring those two up when they're the only two you know about, and at that point you should probably just gloss over the subject entirely for both our sakes.

when discussing the problems of phonograph records desyncing from silent films, NaionSquid hits you with a one-two punch that made me shout out loud in the privacy of my own office:

phonograph records were already popular when silent films were a thing. hell, the technology itself even predates film. i mean, technically, silent film should've never existed in the first place.

what's he saying here? is he saying that because records were a popular media format, no other formats should've emerged? is he saying that it's weird B&W film became popular since records already existed? or is he saying that film should've never been silent because we could have just used records to add sound? the chain of logic he lays out here is strained and confusing, and the succeeding lines provide little clarity. it's weak argumentative writing, a basic undergrad-level "many people say" type approach that permeates this whole middle portion of the essay. on its own, if you lack domain knowledge, you might be able to accept this chain of logic. but me, the special interest haver, the film school goer, i hear all this and i can't help but wonder why he's neglected to mention that silent films usually shipped with bespoke sheet music, and that movie houses employed dedicated musicians to perform them? anyone with more than a few hours of knowledge on silent film will tell you that "silent" is a misnomer, as it was rarely if ever experienced "silently" by the audience. one could, if they were in the mood, connect this to the monochromatic nature of Technicolor and explore how our experience of media is historically contingent to the material reality of extant transformative processes. instead, NationSquid leaves this context out, and the absence screams of well-intentioned ignorance. it indicates a narrow engagement with history that contradicts his philosophical confidence, which is nominally what English classes exist to beat out of you. these are the sorts of over-generalizations that are acceptable in a classroom where you're meant to be learning how to argue, but quickly become dangerous and misleading when they're confidently presented without review to a large audience for profit.

this is not a problem specific to NationSquid, and indeed, many in his comments share my criticisms. i picked this video because i think it's an excellent example of a broader problem that is by no means new, but certainly made worse by contemporary technology and economics. it is extraordinarily easy to presume yourself an expert, and there's only money to be made in pushing forward as fast and as often as possible. my videos take forever to make because i spend a lot of time fine-tuning the script, which is admittedly disastrous for my bottom line and certainly i could stand to speed things up in that regard, be a little less perfectionist, but the fact remains: in the current political economy of digital media, ignorance is profitable because it's easy and there's no one whose job is to say "now hold on, can you elaborate on this point please?"

there are just so many frustrating, unqualified assertions. he comes around to talking about nostalgia for B&W film and people's experiences of it, saying "The printing process, projectors, and screens that were used at the time just weren't as good as they are now." citation needed! "Black and white was just tolerated because of its cost effectiveness." citation needed!! "In other words Technicolor "looks older" because you were watching it on older technology back then" BUT I'M WATCHING IT ON MODERN TECHNOLOGY NOW AND IT STILL LOOKS VERY DIFFERENT! CITATION NEEDED!!!

he talks about people "tolerating" B&W film, as if everyone was just sitting around like "yeah Casablanca is cool and all, but it'd be better if it was in color." what is this technological determinist nonsense? who in their own time gets hung up on the absence of a technology that doesn't exist? what do you say of Civil War photography, WWI newsreels, the liberation of fucking Dachau, that it's experientially lesser for being B&W? imagine someone saying 2D film is less "immersive" than 3D and that people merely "tolerated" 2D because it was more cost effective. they'd be laughed out of the room! (unless they're James Cameron in 2007, but none of us are or ever will be again.) people use the technology available to them based on the economic and political conditions of the moment in which they're available. yes, B&W was dominant because it was exceedingly inexpensive compared to color film, but what filmmaker saw that as an abject hindrance? the canvas is your canvas, you work with what you have. yes, theorists argued B&W's superiority over color on aesthetic grounds, just as they argued that silent film was superior to the talkies. but such theorizing was secondary, it was a reaction to and commentary on extant conditions over which they had little to no control. people rationalize the times they find themselves in. we tell stories, and then we tell stories about how we told those stories, and then other people interpret what the stories about our stories tell us about the stories that we told. we are human beings and our experience of art runs soul-deep no matter the medium, no matter the spectrum of senses it encompasses-- if the art hits, it hits. we did not "tolerate" the absence of color, nor was B&W "less immersive" or less friendly to "suspension of disbelief." if it seems so today, that's only because color film has been naturalized and B&W made the novelty. by such ham-fisted terms, you shouldn't be able to suspend your disbelief reading a book because words imperfectly recreate the experience they're meant to evoke. no, see, The Wizard of Oz isn't actually in color, because at one point the film stock was B&W. what do you MEAN this map isn't the territory?! manager, i've been duped!!

and perhaps none of this is intentional. if i were to ask NationSquid if he believes in any of the conclusions i've extrapolated here, chances are he'd give an emphatic no. this is what i mean by "well-intentioned ignorance." it's the easiest thing in the world to skate by on an argument that feels sound to you because it maps to your own understanding of the subject. "it doesn't sound wrong to me, so it's probably not wrong, yeah?" you include single-sentence generalizations that are "basically true" because you read them or heard them somewhere at some point, and you know your source is good so if anyone calls you on it you can be like "well here's what i meant." but the more you rely on these half-remembered quasi-truths, the more your rhetorical scaffolding reveals itself to be unfit for the job of supporting your argument. at that point, all the plausible deniability in the world can't save you from yourself. it stops being about whether you're "right" or "wrong," and becomes something far more elemental and difficult to prove: did you do the work? did you sit with your script and scrutinize it, line by line and without ego, even for just a few minutes? a good essayist knows what they don't know, and educates themself when the opportunity arises (or otherwise omits the topic entirely to avoid looking like an ass to someone with actual domain knowledge). it's impossible to avoid making mistakes in this free-for-all media landscape where editors and peer review are a thing of the past. but this does not abdicate you of the responsibility you have to perform due diligence for the sake of not misinforming your audience, nor does it give you an excuse to presume that you in this moment already know everything you need to know. you don't need to be trying to deceive someone in order to be deceptive. it can just as easily happen as the result of laziness.

anyway, that's this review.

[magicalgirlagency]

There are many things that can be done with the idea of a deliquent magical girl. But one of the story that has a deliquent as a "magical girl" stripped her down to near nothing, and then proceed to let a bunch of male characters stare at her while she bath. The other one has her be some sort of insane bitch who only know how to punch shits, swears and smokes and beat up her mascot. This one doesnt even have some redeeming qualities like the former (who is still heroic)

The only good deliquent Magical Girls I've seen are concepts and oneshots. Are there any shows that do this idea justice?

The only delinquent-styled MGs that I know of is Matoi Ryuuko from Kill la Kill, but she was also constantly sexualized, unfortunately...

No fluffy sapphic moment on that anime will ever be able to erase the fact that I had to see a schoolgirl dress up like a fancy stripper.

There was also Anarchy-chan from Magical Destroyers, but she was nothing but a prop to make Otaku Hero look good, which totally goes against her punk aesthetics and beliefs.

Also, Spoiler Alert: She and her fellow Magical Girls turn to evil, betray him, and even murder him in front of his rebellion comrades in the finale.

If it serves as any consolation, there's Kino "Sailor Jupiter" Makoto from Sailor Moon. She's not a delinquent, but she would be often labeled as such prior to meeting Usagi, as she has previously gotten into fights.

Even when before awakening as a Sailor Senshi, she'd still kick some major ass!

[beevean]

I'll be honest, Shankar's disdain for "cartoonish villains" feels not only arrogant (oh, his version of Dracula is sooooo deep and human, not like the games!), but rather... reductive?

There is a place for tragic villains, but there is also a place for utter monsters with zero redeeming qualities.

Funnily enough, my best example now is the original Dracula from the book lol.

OG Dracula is pure evil. He has maybe one soft moment, when he says "yes, I too can love"; but overall it's clear that he's a sadistic, abusive monster and you are not meant to see anything good in him. He imprisons Jonathan, he keeps stripping away his freedom and dignity, he mocks him, he steals his clothes to pretend to be him during the day, he kidnaps babies to feed to his vampire women, it's implies he ised to love them but now he has forgotten them, he plans to spread terror in England, he preys on Lucy... and I'm not done with the book yet! "I too can love" is either a bold lie, or he simply doesn't have a normal conception of what love is. He has no tragic past, he has no sympathetic motive.

I love him. He's a great villain. He's compelling and charming and disgusting and oh so hateable. I wouldn't change a thing about him <3 I certainly wouldn't give him a "wife died" backstory :P

The Dracula from the games became more tragic with SoTN, but nowhere near enough to be forgivable. He's petty! He always overreacts! He's entitled, even as a human! Yes, the implications that he too is tired of the cycle of death and rebirth he's stuck in might make you pity him, but he's most definitely not a sad little meow meow. And that's fine! There is no need to paint him as a poor depressed old man.

Especially if the end result is N!Dracula, who can't even command respect from his court and is so depressed that an OC can walk all over him.

In short, villains don't need to have a freudian excuse to be well written.

[jaggededges123]

"Impurity and Sensuality"?? 🫣

aHA--i was hoping someone would ask about this one because it's a Proper Wip with over 2k in it so far XD. this is the continuation of my fic immorality, featuring lots more eighthcest+ mess <3

have a snip:

“You’re a—a brute. All of the manners you were supposed to have were leached from you and given to Ram and Colum, instead—oh, oh—and your only redeeming quality is—ah!”

“If you don’t stop your moaning, I’ll use my fingers as a bridle for your overeager mouth,” Capris threatens, snapping his hips and sending another wave of sharp, overwhelming pleasure up Silas’s spine like a knife. “That’s a lot of words to say ‘thank you’ for fucking you so nicely.”

“Nicely?!” His head turns to look at his second-eldest nephew, “If this is a kindness, I would be—ha—loath to see your cruelty, Brother Capris. Your heart must be as black as the emptiness of space.”

“That’s it—I warned you, you brat.”

Capris’s hands move all at once as his hips still, faster than Silas could ever hope to and with the physical grace of someone who was trained to be a cavalier primary. Suddenly, Silas’s mouth is pried open by four strong fingers, and his tongue brushes against them, tasting the salt and sweat carried there from his own hips.

“You’re interrupting my fantasies, so shut your prissy mouth—oh wait, you can’t now, can you?” Capris laughs a little to himself as Silas whines in his shock. “Calm down. If you’re good, I might give you back your mouth in a minute.”

Silas could bite him, he realizes—and maybe he still would, in a bit, if Capris is traitorous instead of keeping his word. But for now, he takes what he is given with a wanton moan, the sound unrestrained because he cannot even close his mouth now. Capris fucks into him hard, even harder now, and it makes it impossible for Silas to seem dignified in any respect.

Silas is at least a little glad that neither Ram nor Colum are here to witness this particular defilement. With Capris’s fingers in his mouth, he cannot bear to swallow the spit tainted by sweat and the germs that must be on the thick digits, and so the saliva overflows, dripping down and ruining Capris’s sheets as some minute comfort and embarrassment both. Silas has never felt so little like the Master Templar—he is animal, and not human, and it’s as mortifying as it is arousing to the deepest part of himself. Silas cannot even imagine a scenario in which Colum would strip him of every trapping of humanity—it could only ever be Capris Asht, the middle child of his nephews.

What has Capris done to him? He has turned Silas from a sanctified virgin into a cock-hungry whore willing to accept manifold indignities to pretend for even just a moment that his own cavalier would be inclined to fuck him in any manner.