#my villain obsession in completely normal think you

[a-sad-mage]

You Know What I Like About Dr. Blakk?

That even with such a horrific and tragic backstory, he still had a choice, and he he ultimately made the worst one.

I like to think the mans last chance at being a descent person was his first defeat at Will Shane's hands as the Candidate Tournament, Will offered him his hand, to help him up, but Blakk didn't take it. And that solidified the kind of man he would eventually become.

Also, this man not only keeps surname of his fist abuser and become a wildly successful business man, but when he takes over Viggo Dare's gang he keeps the logo, and then transforms it from a simple gang id to an enterprise logo.

Like he could have rebranded, new name new, new logo. but he kept his name and the logo as the biggest middle finger ever and as a reminder.

bad dude, but gosh, he takes petty to a whole new level.

[distraughtlesbian]

literally the best part of this whole stupid book iwlove weird obsessed horndogs thee villain archetype of all time. he’s so silly. “we could’ve had a life together”, he says to his lesbian ex-neighbour who he’s just shot with a crossbow bolt meanwhile her girlfriend who he’s also just shot is half dead across the room. god i love it here he said me and the bad bitch im going to fumble

[solxamber]

Trash Novel Chronicles: Get Me Out of Here || Rook Hunt

You’re isekai’d into a trashy novel and stuck as a tragic side knight character. All you want is survival, but your boss is Rook Hunt—a poetic, eccentric duke.

Now you’re caught in his chaos and, worse, you kinda don’t mind.

Series Masterlist

You’re a completely normal person. You eat normal meals at normal times, sleep the normal amount of hours (give or take a few, who needs all eight anyway?), and hold down a regular, soul-crushingly normal job. It’s not glamorous, but it pays the bills and lets you indulge in your one true love: reading web novels for five hours straight like some kind of feral literature goblin.

Your current obsession? The Lady’s Tragic Love. It’s the sort of story that you can’t put down—not because it’s good, but because it’s so excruciatingly terrible that it loops back around into comedy. The heroine has all the personality of a wet tissue but somehow manages to ruin everyone’s lives with reckless abandon. It’s almost impressive.

You rub your temples as you skim yet another chapter. “Oh my God, this woman has the moral compass of a black hole,” you mutter.

The plot makes less sense the deeper you go: the heroine starts off as the daughter of a down-on-their-luck noble family. Her father racks up an unholy amount of debt, so she’s forced to marry a viscount who—get this—is actually a nice guy. Like, genuinely kind. He agrees to marry her in name only to protect her from debt collectors, even offering to fund her hobbies.

And what does she do? Poison him. Poison him!

"Okay, maybe she's misunderstood," you think, in the kind of delusional optimism only a web novel enthusiast can muster.

Nope. She poisons him because she "can’t stand looking at his face," which is only mildly unattractive and not the ogre-like monstrosity the text implies. Also, he was literally helping her stay alive.

“Oh, sure, let’s kill the only decent male character in this hellscape. Why not?” you hiss, scrolling furiously.

After committing literal murder, the heroine sets her sights on an archduke, who is tall, handsome, and very much engaged to the so-called villainess. The villainess is stunning, kind, intelligent, and inexplicably hated by everyone because—checks notes—she’s too perfect?

At this point, you're gripping your phone so hard that it’s a miracle it doesn’t snap in half. “Why is the villainess the villain? This should be the heroine’s title! She’s practically speedrunning how to be the worst human being alive!”

But no, the heroine gets rewarded for her nonsense. The archduke doesn’t fall for her (because he has taste), but the crown prince does. The prince, apparently a sucker for chaos, marries her. Instead of being happy with her new title and riches, the heroine spends her days scheming to ruin the villainess’s life because, in her words, “How dare the archduke choose someone that isn’t me?”

You pause and reread that line. Then reread it again.

“WHAT?!” you yell so loudly that your downstairs neighbor bangs on the ceiling.

It’s a spiral of nonsense that drags you through emotional whiplash until you finish the last chapter with a migraine and a full-blown existential crisis. You stare at the screen. "Why...why did I do this to myself?"

You stumble out to your tiny balcony to clear your head, phone still in hand. The cool night air washes over you as you lean on the railing, your brain buzzing with rage and confusion.

“Why does she get a happy ending?” you grumble. “She’s a walking red flag factory! The villainess deserves to be queen, and the prince deserves a lobotomy for his taste in women!”

In your frustration, you kick the balcony railing. Unfortunately, your landlord hasn’t exactly been diligent about repairs. The rusted screws holding it in place give way with a terrifying screech.

“Oh, come on,” you say, deadpan, as the railing collapses beneath you.

You plummet ten stories down, bouncing off an awning like some kind of cartoon character before landing face-first in a suspiciously placed fruit cart.

As darkness creeps in, your final thought is not of regret, nor fear, but of pure, unfiltered pettiness:

“I hope my next life is more exciting… and I never have to read about this heroine again.”

With that, you pass out, blissfully unaware of the absurd fate that awaits you.

You wake up, groggy and disoriented, and immediately ask yourself the first logical question: Why the hell am I alive?

The last thing you remember is gravity betraying you and a suspiciously convenient fruit cart breaking your fall. But when you sit up and look around, it’s very clear you’re not in your crappy apartment anymore. For starters, this place is way too clean, smells faintly of vanilla, and—oh, is that sunlight streaming through those beautiful glass windows? Not the dim, depressing flicker of the streetlight outside your old place?

Something is very wrong.

You scramble out of the bed, which is definitely not your rickety twin-sized monstrosity held together with duct tape and misplaced hope, and start poking around. The furniture is elegant, the carpet is plush, and there’s an oil painting on the wall that practically screams, Welcome to Generic Medieval Europe™!

The realization slams into you with all the subtlety of a freight train: You’re in that garbage web novel.

You pause, frozen, your brain throwing up a million red flags at once. Your knees almost buckle. "Nope. No. Absolutely not. This is some kind of cosmic punishment," you whisper to yourself, clutching your temples.

You creep towards the ornate mirror on the other side of the room, your reflection getting clearer with every step. “Please,” you mutter, “if there’s a single merciful entity out there, don’t let me be the heroine. Or the villainess. Or, God forbid, one of the male leads.”

You finally reach the mirror, squeeze your eyes shut, then crack one open. And there you are: just some random face.

“Oh, thank God,” you exhale, slumping against the wall. You’re not the heroine. You’re not the villainess. You’re not one of the tragic walking disasters that make up the main cast. You're just… some person. A total nobody.

But just as you’re about to bust out your victory dance of mediocrity, something catches your eye. You lean closer, squinting.

Wait.

No.

NO.

You’re that nobody.

You’re the tragic commoner knight who gets blackmailed by the heroine, coerced into doing her dirty work, and ends up assassinating the villainess for her. The same commoner knight who dies in three chapters because the heroine throws them under the bus as soon as the villainess's fiancé finds out what happened.

You stagger back from the mirror like it’s cursed. “Nope. Nope. Absolutely not. I did not reincarnate into this medieval soap opera just to get unalived in the dumbest way possible,” you say, pacing the room like a lunatic.

Your character’s life flashes before your eyes: the abusive father, the crippling family loyalty, the gambling debts. This poor soul had it rough even before getting turned into the heroine’s personal murder minion. And you? You’re not about to pick up that torch.

So you grab some parchment and pen what might be the most passive-aggressive resignation letter of all time.

“To Her Highness, the Crown Princess,

Kindly do your own dirty work from now on. My father can gamble himself into oblivion. I’m out. Good luck with your reign or whatever.”

Satisfied, you sign it with an unnecessarily large flourish, slap it on the desk, and prepare to bounce.

You’re halfway down the hall when you almost walk face-first into him.

Rook Hunt, the walking embodiment of “this guy doesn’t belong in this novel but here he is anyway,” stands there with his golden hair and overly dramatic smile. He’s loud. He’s eccentric. He’s dressed like he’s about to break into a musical number about the beauty of life. Oh, and he’s also the duke whose household you served in as a knight before you quit.

“Mon ami!” he exclaims, throwing his arms wide like you’re long-lost lovers. “You’ve returned to me! What an exquisite twist of fate! Shall we celebrate the beauty of reunion?”

“No,” you say flatly. You attempt to sidestep him, but Rook doesn’t just let things go.

“You cannot leave me again! Do you not wish to resume your role as my loyal knight?”

“Absolutely not,” you snap on instinct, because why on earth would you willingly dive back into this mess? But then it hits you. Wait.

Rook isn’t part of the main plot. He’s not the crown prince, not the archduke, not the villain, and definitely not one of the doomed love interests. He’s just… there. A minor character. A colorful extra who pops up to sprinkle poetic nonsense into the plot and then wanders offstage.

Your brain kicks into overdrive. If you stick with him, you’ll be close enough to the action to keep tabs but far enough to avoid the heroine’s nonsense. Plus, salary. And minor characters like him rarely die!

Your decision solidifies. You plaster on a winning smile and nod. “Actually, on second thought, yeah. Let’s do that.”

“Magnifique!” Rook practically beams as he grabs your arm. “Come, let us bask in the splendor of returning home!”

You follow him, letting his endless stream of poetic babble wash over you. Is this the best plan? Probably not. But it beats getting murdered for a heroine who couldn’t find her moral compass with both hands and a map.

You make it back to the duke’s grand estate—because of course it’s grand. Every aristocrat in this godforsaken novel seems to have a mansion the size of a small country. Rook practically floats through the gates, his dramatic energy causing every passing servant to give him the “not again” look. You follow, still trying to process the reality of your current situation.

After an unnecessarily flowery tour of the place (you’ve been here before in this body, but you let him talk because it’s easier than interrupting), he finally stops in the courtyard. He turns to you, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

“Now, mon chevalier, reclaim your rightful position as my trusted bodyguard!” he declares, flinging his arms wide as if inviting the heavens to applaud him.

You blink. “…Respectfully, sir, why do you need a bodyguard?”

He pauses, staring at you like you just asked why water is wet. Then, with an infuriatingly serene smile, he says, “Ah, but the shadows are filled with secrets, my dear knight! The beauty of life is in its mysteries, n’est-ce pas?”

You squint at him. “Okay, but that doesn’t answer the question.”

He leans in closer, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Because the wolves, mon ami. The wolves.”

You freeze. “…What wolves?”

Rook straightens up, tilting his head as if contemplating the meaning of the universe. “Ah, they are everywhere and nowhere. In the forests, in the halls, in the hearts of men. Who can say where danger truly lies?”

This man just said a whole lot of words without saying anything.

“Right,” you say slowly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “But you’re, like, ridiculously strong. I’m pretty sure you could take on any wolf—metaphorical or not—by yourself.”

“Ah, mon chevalier,” he says with a wistful sigh, placing a hand on his chest like he’s reciting a Shakespearean soliloquy. “Strength alone cannot protect one from the unexpected, the unseen, the poetry of peril!”

You stare at him, trying to figure out if this is some sort of elaborate prank. But no. This man is completely serious.

“So… wolves. Poetry of peril. Got it,” you mutter, rubbing your temples. “I’ll, uh, just… go patrol or something, I guess.”

Rook claps his hands together, beaming. “Ah, magnifique! I knew you would understand! Truly, you are a gem among knights!”

You slink off, still scratching your head. You’re 90% sure the wolves are a metaphor for absolutely nothing, but who are you to question the logic of a trash novel? At least the pay is good.

You quickly realize this trash novel is trying to trash you right back. It’s like every corner you turn, fate has decided you don’t deserve a peaceful life.

Walking through the garden to calm your nerves? Someone leaps out of the hedges with a dagger. You narrowly dodge, trip over a decorative fountain, and the attacker runs off, cackling.

Trying to enjoy the roses because you’re starting to think, “Hey, if I gotta die, at least let it be aesthetic?” Nope, arrow. Right past your ear.

By the fifth assassination attempt (some guy “accidentally” dropping a potted plant from a balcony), it clicks. The heroine must’ve decided since you’re not doing her dirty work anymore, she needs to eliminate you before you spill the beans. But, unlike her, you have brains.

So, you write a letter.

Dear Villainess and Esteemed Archduke,

I hope this letter finds you well, though considering the general chaos surrounding us, that feels optimistic.

I am writing to inform you of an unfortunate situation involving a certain someone (cough the crown princess cough) who has, shall we say, less-than-noble intentions toward your continued existence.

To clarify: she asked me to assassinate you. I know, shocking. However, as someone who values integrity, personal safety, and not being murdered by shady royalty, I’ve decided to step down from my position as her unwilling assassin.

This does mean she may hire someone else to handle the job, which is unfortunate for you but also none of my business anymore. I’m not sure how you typically handle murder plots, but I suggest taking precautions, like perhaps not smelling your roses or standing under precariously placed flower pots.

Lastly, while I am admittedly a pawn in this chaotic mess, I felt it was only fair to let you know what’s going on. I wish you both a long, unassassinated life.

Warm regards,

Your Local Retired Assassin

P.S. Please don’t kill me. I’m just the messenger.

You thought this letter would buy you peace. Instead, it bought you an invitation.

And by “invitation,” you mean you’ve been dragged into a private meeting with the villainess and the archduke, who are both sitting across from you now, looking like they’re deciding whether to thank you or strangle you.

“So,” the villainess says, her voice like ice. “You’re telling me the crown princess is plotting to kill me?”

“Uh, yes,” you say, your palms sweating. “But, like, not me anymore! I’ve retired. Permanently.”

The archduke raises an eyebrow. “Why would she want to kill us?”

You glance at the villainess. “Uh… because you exist?”

Before the villainess can stab you (she looks ready), the door swings open, and in saunters Rook.

“Ah, my friends!” he says, grinning ear to ear. “How serendipitous that we are all here. I believe I can shed some light on this matter.”

You gape as Rook launches into a detailed explanation of the heroine’s convoluted scheme—exactly what she’s planning, who she’s hiring, and even the color of the dress she’ll wear while gloating about it.

The villainess and the archduke exchange a glance, then rise, thanking Rook for his “invaluable insight” before sweeping out of the room, leaving you and Rook alone.

You turn to him, your jaw still on the floor. “How do you even know all that?”

Rook just winks at you. “Ah, mon chevalier, the shadows have ears, and I am their maestro.”

He struts out, humming a jaunty tune, leaving you sitting there, more confused than ever. At this point, you’re half-convinced Rook is either a genius or just making stuff up as he goes. And honestly? You’re too tired to figure it out.

You’re stationed at the edge of the garden, trying your best to blend into the scenery while the tea party unfolds. Rook, as usual, is the life of the gathering, passionately chatting with Vil and Epel, who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else.

You’re in your usual "bodyguard mode," which mostly consists of staring off into the distance and trying not to fall asleep. It’s peaceful—for once—until Epel casually drops a comment loud enough for even you to hear.

"Rook, you finally got them back, huh?"

Your brain screeches to a halt.

Got you back? Back? What does that mean? What is there to get back? Was there something to get back in the first place?

You barely have time to process any of this before Rook, in the most Rook way possible, interrupts with a flurry of poetic nonsense.

“Ah, young Epel, the winds of fortune have indeed graced me with their bounteous song! But let us not dwell on the past, for the present blooms before us like a radiant garden of opportunity!”

You blink. Did… did that mean anything? Epel seems to think it doesn’t, judging by the way he rolls his eyes and mutters something under his breath. But you’re too busy processing the odd look on Rook’s face to care.

Because, for the first time ever, Rook looks nervous.

His usual serene confidence is still there, but there’s a hint of something else—a faint pink dusting his cheeks, an almost imperceptible shift in his tone. And why the hell is your heart fluttering at the sight?

You squint at him, trying to decode whatever is happening here. Is he… embarrassed? Flustered? Can Rook even be flustered?

Before you can spiral further into overthinking, you notice Vil’s sharp gaze cutting through the moment like a knife. His violet eyes lock onto yours, and an infuriatingly amused smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

Oh no. He knows.

Vil, of course, pretends like nothing’s happening, smoothly pouring himself another cup of tea and joining the conversation like the consummate aristocrat he is. But every so often, you catch him glancing at you with that same entertained expression, like he’s just discovered a juicy secret.

You try to shake it off, refusing to let yourself be dragged into this nonsense. But Rook’s flushed face lingers in your mind, and every time he smiles at you for the rest of the party, you feel the heat creeping up your own cheeks.

Great. Just great. Whatever this is, it’s going to haunt you for days.

It started with an uproar in the palace—a desperate, urgent call for help sent to Rook, Duke of Hunt.

"The wolves are attacking!"

You were mid-sword practice when the messenger arrived, breathless and frantic. He handed the summons to Rook, who took the parchment with an amused smile.

"Wolves, you say?" he mused, tapping his chin dramatically.

"Yes, my lord!" The messenger practically collapsed from the effort of delivering the message. "They’ve breached the outer gardens, and the prince and heroine request your immediate assistance!"

Rook looked at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Ah, mon chevalier, do you recall what I told you once about wolves?"

You blinked, frowning. "You mean the thing about being surrounded by wolves one day? I thought you were joking."

Rook’s grin widened. "Oh, I never jest about wolves."

You opened your mouth to demand clarification, but Rook waved the parchment dismissively. "Alas, I must decline."

The messenger froze. "W-What? But…you’re the Duke of Hunt! The greatest tracker and marksman in the kingdom! Without you, the palace is doomed!"

Rook leaned forward conspiratorially. "Tell me, mon ami, what makes you think I’d risk life and limb for the likes of the heroine and her precious prince?"

The messenger stammered. "B-But—"

Rook held up a hand, silencing him. "No, no. I simply cannot. My schedule is far too packed. Why, just this morning, I promised my chevalier here that I’d help reorganize their weapons rack." He turned to you with a wink. "Isn’t that right?"

You rolled your eyes but nodded. "Yep. Super busy."

The messenger left, looking utterly defeated. You figured that was the end of it.

It wasn’t.

Over the next two hours, messengers kept arriving, each more desperate than the last. Rook refused them all with increasing flamboyance.

One messenger was sent away with, "Alas, the stars are not in alignment for such a hunt!"

Another was dismissed with, "The winds whisper that this is not my destiny today."

Finally, a personal plea came from the heroine herself. She barged into the estate, dramatically throwing herself at Rook’s feet.

"Oh, noble Duke!" she wailed. "You are the only one who can save us! Please, I beg of you!"

Rook tilted his head, pretending to think it over. Then he glanced at you, his expression suddenly sharp beneath the veneer of cheer.

"And what of my chevalier?" he asked.

The heroine frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You’ve made quite a nuisance of yourself lately," Rook said lightly, though there was an edge to his voice. "Why, only yesterday, you sent someone to ambush them in the gardens, did you not?"

Her face paled.

"I might reconsider," Rook said, his tone taking on a singsong quality, "if you promise to leave them alone from now on."

There was a long, tense pause. The heroine’s expression flickered between rage and fear before she finally forced a smile. "Very well. I promise."

"Splendid!" Rook clapped his hands and stood. "To the hunt, then!"

You stood there in stunned silence as he walked out the door, bow in hand. When he turned back to flash you a grin, you couldn’t help but mutter, "What the hell just happened?"

Rook’s laugh echoed through the halls, and you were left wondering yet again if you’d ever fully understand this ridiculous man.

It’s payday, baby.

You’ve never been more excited to hold a pouch of jingling coins in your life. Your day off couldn’t have come at a better time, and you’ve already decided to treat yourself. No assassination attempts, no cryptic poetry, no Rook yammering about beauty—just you, the market, and sweet, sweet retail therapy.

After wandering for a while, you stumble upon a fruit stall, and your eyes light up. The produce is incredible—vividly colored, juicy, and nothing like the waxy, suspiciously glossy stuff you’d get in your original world. You don’t even know what half these fruits are, but they smell amazing, and you’re buying them all.

As you carry your haul back to the manor, an idea hits you like a freight train. You’ve been craving dessert—specifically, something you can’t get in medieval Europe. Something simple, sweet, and utterly anachronistic.

And that’s how you end up in the kitchen, surrounded by fresh fruit, flour, sugar, and whatever else you’ve managed to scrounge up. You’re determined to make crêpes. Yes, you know they weren’t invented yet, but the cooks don’t even seem to know what a waffle is, so they’re not going to stop you.

It takes a bit of trial and error—because, shocker, medieval kitchens are not equipped for finesse—but eventually, you’ve got a plate of soft, golden crêpes filled with fresh fruit and drizzled with honey. It’s so beautiful it almost brings a tear to your eye.

You’re mid-bite, mentally congratulating yourself, when Rook materializes out of nowhere like some kind of dessert-seeking missile.

“Mon chevalier! What marvel have you crafted here in this humble kitchen? The scent alone rivals the sweetest perfume!”

You freeze. This is fine. He’s just curious. There’s no reason to panic. Subconsciously, you scoop up a bite on your fork and offer it to him, your body on autopilot.

Rook doesn’t hesitate, leaning in and accepting the bite with the elegance of a prince at court. “Magnifique! Truly, you have woven magic into this creation, mon cher!”

You relax slightly, pride swelling at the compliment—until he takes your hand and licks a stray drop of honey from your finger.

Your brain short-circuits.

Before you can even form a coherent thought, Rook grins at you with that infuriatingly charming smile of his, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your cheek.

“You are as talented in the kitchen as you are with a blade,” he says, his voice warm and soft, as if he hasn’t just dismantled your sanity.

And then he’s gone, striding out of the kitchen with his usual jaunty step, leaving you standing there like an idiot, replaying the sensation of his lips on your cheek and his tongue on your finger.

You slowly sink to the floor, crêpe in hand, trying to process what just happened.

“Why,” you mutter to yourself, taking another bite of your crêpe for courage, “does this keep happening to me?”

Life had been…dare you say it, pleasant recently. No assassination attempts, no tea parties and no surprise arrows whizzing by your head. You were almost convinced this world might not be so bad after all.

But like clockwork, the plot reared its ugly head.

You were outside, basking in the rare serenity of a quiet afternoon, when the shouting began. You knew the voice instantly. It was grating, furious, and way too familiar.

Your abusive father—the original you’s deadbeat excuse for a parent—had somehow crawled out of the woodwork.

“You useless brat!” he snarled, stomping toward you. “How dare you stop sending money? Do you think you’re too good for your family now?!”

Oh, for the love of—

You crossed your arms, already done with the theatrics. “First of all, family implies mutual care and respect, neither of which you’ve ever provided. Secondly, kiss my ass.”

The man’s face turned a deep shade of purple, veins bulging in his forehead. He raised his hand, and you didn’t flinch. You weren’t scared of him. You were just irritated that he had the audacity to show up and ruin your vibe.

But before his hand could even swing down, an arrow whizzed past, slicing through the air with deadly precision. It nicked his cheek, leaving a shallow cut, and he yelped like a scolded dog.

You turned, and there he was.

Rook.

But this wasn’t the poetic, flowery Rook who praised sunsets and waxed lyrical about everything under the sun. No, this was Duke Hunt. His bow was clenched tightly in one hand, his expression colder than you’d ever seen. His eyes locked onto your father, sharp and unyielding, and for the first time, you truly understood why people called him a hunter.

Your father stumbled back, clutching his cheek. “Y-you’ll regret this! I’ll get my revenge!” he spat, turning tail and running like the two-bit villain he was.

You didn’t even watch him go. You were too busy staring at Rook, your heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with fear and everything to do with the fact that, dammit, he looked good like this.

You silently scolded yourself. Really? Now? This is when you’re going to have a revelation about your feelings? Pull it together.

Rook’s gaze softened as he looked at you, and without a word, he closed the distance between you. Before you could process it, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a firm, steady embrace.

You stiffened for a moment, but then it hit you—you were shaken. You hadn’t realized it until now, but the encounter had left your hands trembling. And Rook…he didn’t say a word. He just held you, radiating warmth and reassurance, as if he knew exactly what you needed.

Slowly, you relaxed, leaning into him, letting the tension bleed out of your body. For once, there were no witty remarks, no poetic musings, no cryptic riddles. Just Rook, steady and solid, and the quiet comfort of his presence.

You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath. Maybe life here wasn’t so bad after all.

It was the hunting competition trope—the bread and butter of every third-rate villainess novel ever written. Noblemen rode out in droves to massacre innocent wildlife in the name of prestige, while the women gathered on the sidelines to swoon over who could kill the most majestic creature.

Normally, you'd find this whole affair ridiculous, but today? Today, it was a strategic opportunity.

Rook and you had cooked up a plan. After bagging his game, Rook would publicly gift it to the villainess, cementing the stance of his household against the heroine. A subtle yet unmistakable message to everyone present: this duke’s house wasn’t here to play politics; it was drawing battle lines.

Rook was, predictably, ecstatic about it all. “Ah, mon chevalier, what a splendid opportunity to honor beauty and justice with the art of the hunt!” he proclaimed, twirling dramatically as he readied his bow.

What you didn’t anticipate was his strange fixation on a handkerchief before he left.

Throughout the day, noblewomen approached Rook, each one batting their lashes and holding out dainty, embroidered handkerchiefs. It was practically a parade of desperate peahens.

“Oh, Lord Hunt, a token for luck!” cooed one particularly persistent lady, pushing her frilly kerchief toward him.

Rook clasped his hands to his chest with exaggerated reverence. “Ah, mademoiselle, your thoughtfulness moves me beyond words, but alas, I cannot accept. To carry such a treasure into the wild would be to risk its loss, and I could never bear such tragedy!”

Another woman attempted to loop her kerchief around his wrist directly. Rook gracefully dodged, as though she were offering him a live snake. “My dear lady, your artistry is unparalleled, but the only adornment fit for this hunt is the pure, untainted spirit of nature herself!”

By the third rejection, you were practically biting your tongue to keep from laughing.

But then came the curveball.

“Ah,” Rook sighed as he approached you. “If only I had a handkerchief imbued with sincerity. A simple, honest token to guide my aim and steady my heart!”

You blinked at him. “What, like…this?” You pulled out your completely ordinary, unembellished handkerchief and held it out.

Rook’s eyes lit up as though you’d just handed him the Holy Grail. “Mon chevalier! How perfect! How divine! This humble square of cloth shall be my guiding light!”

Before you could protest, he tied it around his arm with a flourish and rode off, looking like he was ready to star in his own personal opera.

From his place in the pavilion, Vil Schoenheit took a slow, deliberate sip of his tea, his sharp eyes locking onto yours with a glint of pure amusement. The smirk tugging at his lips seemed to say, Oh, I know exactly what’s going on.

Meanwhile, Epel squinted between you and Rook, his expression shifting rapidly as though he’d just cracked the secret to immortality. He whispered something to Vil, who nearly choked on his tea before regaining his composure.

What the hell is going on? you thought, baffled.

Fast forward to now, the present, where the plan was supposed to culminate with Rook triumphantly presenting his prize to the villainess. Simple, elegant, strategic.

So why, why, was Rook standing in front of you holding a literal griffin?

“Uh, Rook,” you whispered through gritted teeth. “What are you doing? This is supposed to go to the villainess.”

But Rook was having none of it.

“Ah, my loyal chevalier,” he declared loudly, drawing the attention of every noble in the vicinity. “It is only fitting that such a prize goes to the one who inspires my steadfastness and resolve!”

Your jaw dropped. “Rook. No.”

He turned his radiant smile on you, looking like a proud schoolboy showing off a crayon drawing to his teacher. “Yes!”

The gathered nobles erupted into murmurs, and you could already feel the weight of every single judgmental stare. This was not part of the plan. But despite your internal screaming, a small, annoying part of you couldn’t help but feel…flattered. This was a duke, and you were just a knight. A very confused, very underqualified knight, sure, but still.

Vil, still seated with his ever-present cup of tea, took another long, pointed sip, his eyes glimmering with amusement.

This was the drama he’d signed up for.

The hallway leading back to the room where Vil, Rook, and Epel were sitting felt oddly silent, the muffled voices of their conversation barely filtering through the door. You weren’t one to eavesdrop—but when you heard your name, well, curiosity got the better of you.

"Just confess already," Epel was saying, his tone exasperated. "We’ve all seen the way you look at them."

Vil chimed in, his voice tinged with amusement. "Epel is right for once, Rook. Love is about timing, and yours is abysmal."

"But love is an art, mon ami," Rook replied, his tone unusually hesitant. "It cannot be rushed. It must unfold naturally, like the petals of a flower in spring."

"Okay," Vil drawled, clearly unimpressed. "But what happens when someone else plucks your ‘flower’? Say, the gardener they’ve been spending so much time with?"

The silence that followed was deafening. You leaned closer, your heart pounding, hoping—no, needing—to hear Rook’s response.

Instead, you heard nothing.

The stillness stretched unbearably until you couldn’t take it anymore. You shoved the door open, startling all three occupants. "What are you talking about?"

Vil raised an eyebrow, the picture of nonchalance, though the corners of his mouth twitched with mischief. "Perfect timing, as always. I’ll leave you two to sort this out."

He grabbed a very reluctant Epel by the collar and dragged him toward the door. "Wait, I wanna see what happens!" Epel protested, but Vil shut the door behind them with a decisive click.

Which left you and Rook alone.

You crossed your arms, leveling him with a look that you hoped masked the frantic hammering of your heart. "So…what’s this about a confession?"

Rook’s usual composure faltered. For once, the poetic, perpetually self-assured Rook you knew looked…unsure. Vulnerable. His hands fidgeted with the hem of his gloves, and he avoided your gaze, staring instead at the floor.

"Rook," you said softly, stepping closer. "Please, just tell me what’s going on. I need to know."

He finally looked up, and the raw emotion in his eyes was enough to steal your breath.

"Mon chevalier," he began, his voice low and trembling, "I have loved you from the start. At first, it was the camaraderie of equals, a kindred spirit I admired. But when you returned from the heroine’s side, defying expectations and staying true to yourself…you captured my heart completely."

You blinked, stunned. "Rook, I—"

He continued, the words spilling out as though he’d been holding them back for far too long. "You never treated me like I was strange. You accepted me as I am, even when others mocked my passions or dismissed my eccentricities. I never truly needed a bodyguard. I just needed you. Near me. Always."

His voice broke slightly on the last word, and you felt your resolve crumble.

You sighed, but it wasn’t from exasperation. It was the sound of relief, of something clicking into place. "Next time," you said, stepping even closer, "just tell me your feelings directly. It’ll save us both a lot of trouble."

Before he could respond, you reached up and pulled him into a kiss.

It was everything a first kiss should be—long, searing, passionate. His arms wrapped around you instinctively, pulling you flush against him as though he never wanted to let go. You melted into him, your hands sliding up to tangle in his hair, and for a moment, the world outside that kiss ceased to exist.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathless. Rook’s lips quirked into a smile as he whispered, "Your lips are the sweetest arrow, mon amour, and they have pierced my heart beyond repair."

You burst into laughter, burying your face in the crook of his neck to muffle the sound. "Gods, Rook, only you could ruin a moment like this with something so cheesy."

He chuckled softly, his arms still secure around you.

And as you stood there in his embrace, you couldn’t help but think that this ridiculous, trashy novel world was the best thing that had ever happened to you.

The parlor was warm with the golden light of afternoon sun filtering through the windows, but the atmosphere buzzed with anticipation. You stood near Rook, his arm casually draped across the back of your chair, as Vil and Epel looked at you expectantly.

“Well?” Vil prompted, raising a perfectly arched brow.

You glanced at Rook, who smiled encouragingly, as if to say, go ahead. Clearing your throat, you announced, “We’re…together.”

Vil sighed dramatically, setting down his teacup with a soft clink. “Finally. I was starting to think I’d have to intervene.”

Epel, on the other hand, froze mid-sip of his cider. Slowly, he set the glass down, stood, and walked over to you. His expression was a mix of grief and dread, like someone had just informed him of some terrible, life-altering news.

He placed both hands firmly on your shoulders and looked you dead in the eyes. “Good luck,” he said, solemn as a funeral bell. “This is a life sentence, y’know.”

Rook chuckled, clearly amused. “Mon cher Epel, you wound me! Surely being with moi is more of a treasure than a trial?”

Epel turned to him, unimpressed. “Treasure? You follow people for fun. You recite poetry to wild animals. You can’t even eat pie without analyzing its existential meaning. I mean, who does that?”

You were already laughing, shaking your head as you patted Epel’s hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Epel. This is a sentence I’m more than happy to serve.”

Vil smirked behind his tea, watching the scene unfold with obvious amusement. “Frankly, I’m just relieved we won’t have to endure any more of his tragic sighs every time you left a room.”

Rook clasped a hand to his heart in mock offense. “Oh, Vil! My sighs are poetry incarnate!”

Vil didn’t even blink. “Your sighs are the sound of unspoken melodrama. Spare me.”

Epel plopped back into his seat with a long groan, running a hand through his hair. “Anyway, I guess congratulations or whatever. At least now we can all stop pretending we don’t notice him staring at you like some love-struck puppy.”

“That’s rich,” you shot back, grinning. “You’re the one who looks like your pet rat just died every time we get close.”

Epel huffed. “I’m just saying! Now you gotta deal with him being even more poetic! And clingy! You thought the prince and heroine were bad? Wait till you see Rook when he’s in love. You’re doomed.”

At the mention of the prince and heroine, Vil made an exaggerated sound of disgust. “Speaking of those two… Honestly, has anyone ever been so painfully predictable? The prince has all the charm of wet cardboard, and the heroine—don’t even get me started on her hair ribbons.”

“Ah, the heroine,” Rook sighed wistfully, but there was a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Always so delightfully transparent. Her schemes are like open windows to her soul.”

You snorted. “If by soul, you mean her desperate attempts to turn everything into a sob story, then yeah, sure.”

Epel leaned forward, grinning. “Did you see her crying at the hunt competition? Like, girl, it’s a competition. What did you think would happen? That the griffin would apologize and hand itself over?”

Vil smirked, tapping a manicured finger against his chin. “Or how about the prince declaring his ‘eternal devotion’ to her at the banquet last week? I nearly choked on my wine.”

Rook chuckled, turning to you with a soft smile that was far more genuine than his usual theatrics. “Ah, but let us not waste all our words on such trivialities. This moment, mon amour, is one of joy.”

You leaned into him, your laughter subsiding into a contented smile. His arm slipped around your shoulders, holding you close as Vil and Epel continued their playful bickering in the background.

For the first time since you’d been thrown into this absurd world, you felt completely at ease. If this was the result of being trapped in a trash novel, then so be it. You were exactly where you wanted to be.

Trash Novel Masterlist

Complete Masterlists

[monakisu]

I want you to know that I came across a random post of your Death Note art, went "Awww, oh my gosh, with the way this person draws Light I think Akechi would look fantastic in the same style!", clicked onto your profile, and then saw your newest artwork was Akechi. I'm still kind of cackling over it and thought maybe you'd find it funny too. Your art is SO cute, I'm very happy I found it <333

HAHA THAT’S AMAZING (<< was an akechi artist wayyyy before i fell head over heels for light)

but rlly… theyre so similar:

- brunet

- asshole

- pretty boy

- mass murderer

- black-haired homoerotic rival

at the end of the day, the key difference is one is a top and the other is a bottom.

ok but seriously, they’re vastly different characters on a fundamental level:

- light was handed everything him on a silver platter: family, friends, looks, intellect, a comfortable life… as a bastard child of a sex worker and now an orphan, goro had to fight his way to his current position and will always harbor a terrible sense of inferiority (light is completely confident in his absolute superiority, Always (that’s why the challenge of L sent him off the deep end of obsession lol))

- light genuinely sees himself as a hero, while goro would like to feel the same but is nonetheless depressingly aware of his villain’s journey (his undesirable position as the detective vs the underdog phantom thieves, his string of assassinations, his ultimate dirty bloody goal, etc.).

- light’s motive is about the world’s salvation, cleansing, the birth of his ideal reality (very messianic of him with the slightest loving tinge of mary cradling her lamb hahaha) while goro is laser-focused on ruining this one asshole’s life in particular, vengeance and revenge at once! one’s focused on rebirth, and the other gunning straight for death! they both use murder to get what they want but light probably floats around thinking himself so clean and divine as mother of the world (ignorance is bliss) while goro is constantly desperately trying to cover up his suspiciously red hands with his gloves hehehe… they’re both constantly striving for perfection, just with varying levels of self-awareness!!

- goro is a canonical loner; light has a horde of friends; this is probably due to a difference in public persona! goro is an untouchable idea of what he thinks a human should be and is completely out of the loop when it comes to normal social interactions (believes opening with hegel will instantly endear himself to the average person (luckily he inflicted that upon akira who is decidedly not average in the slightest)), light is implied to be more down-to-earth and even slightly goofy (he’s gaming decorum like an advanced speedrunner)! it’s probably good how distant goro is, because getting any closer to him will allow you to see how off-putting and uncanny he is, sorta like an AI-generated image—seams in the wrong places and far too much teeth LOL. meanwhile light has this whole shebang so thoroughly figured out that he’s BORED with it all! he’d like to move on to the next game (with L), thank you!! light definitely still exudes uncanny creepiness (it’s his natural state of being) especially when he zones out or starts hysterically cackling out of nowhere at his own thoughts, but he’s a hundred times better at masking compared to goro due to a better upbringing. goro is starved for the adoring friends he sees akira easily picking up one after another; light couldn’t give less of a shit because he’s always had those trivial luxuries! he’d much rather prefer an adoring WORLD!!

- then there’s the difference in how they die… one started out surrounded with company but ultimately died alone, while it’s the opposite for the other (if you count the de-realization of maruki’s reality as goro’s “death” (which i don’t)).

- in conclusion, light and goro are like funhouse mirror reflections of each other!!! one is a pampered lapdog getting a taste of rabies and letting loose, while the other is a starving wolf trying to domesticate itself for treats and headpats!! and i <3 them both!!!!!

anyways i may be wrong about light because im going purely off of fics, tumblr shitposts, and my own imagination :] feel free to school me in a way that won’t destroy my delusions!

[descendantsramblings]

Just a short cute thing where Fem! Reader and Maleficent are dating and Mal just loves teasing her gf by turning into her dragon form in small

Pure fluff, thank u :>

“Short cute” is speaking my language rn. So glad to be back to writing long stuff but between these and writing a layout for a Dead Boy Detectives fic I needed a good head canon or Drabble 🖤

Also I wrote and edited this whole thing while on the clock at work so forgive me if something is a little odd, I HATE typing on mobile because it’s easier to get typos.

Play

Maleficent x Reader

Pronouns used: she/her/hers

Summary: watching her girlfriend study can get just so boring

Warnings: descriptions of Maleficent turning into a dragon but it’s really nothing (at least as a horror and body horror fan it’s absolutely nothing but I’ll warn you just in case), fluff

Word Count: 1.1K

Pic because finding gifs of my girl (who’s almost always background or literally on Hades lol) is so hard

She can’t say no one warned her. Of course, Maleficent thought her girlfriend hung the sun, she was humanities own light source. All aglow when she was excited and warm enough that the dark fae was constantly convinced she had a fever. She was obsessed with her, but that doesn’t mean the rest of her friends lied when they said dating a hero kid could get so boring. Not that (Y/n) in general was boring, it was actually pretty easy to get her running around with the villains, but when she felt like being good? She could get obnoxiously good. Like straight As helping out in soup kitchens type of good. Which if the pixie was honest, she found that side of her girlfriend extremely endearing. Sometimes she even wonders if that sweet half of her is what saw Maleficent as worthy for her. Not that she’d ever admit to that out loud, it would wreck her image. If the fact that she could watch the girl complete mundane tasks in complete infatuation didn’t already kill her image. Or at least she normally could watch her like that.

The girl had been studying for an hour, rewriting her notes in a decorative and color coded way that she swore made it easier for her to study. “Rewriting it makes me think about it harder, Mali. Engraves it into my memory.” It sounded like an excuse to her, seemed to her that the girl just liked to look at pretty things. Not that she minded, whatever she wanted to do was fine by her, (Y/n) was her own woman. And Maleficent loved to be the pretty thing she was looking at, so who was she to complain about other ones? But Mali was starting to wonder if she and Tinkerbell had something in common. If she didn’t get her girlfriend’s attention soon she was sure she’d just fall over and just die. She was growing weaker by the second, she was positive of that. And getting the girl’s attention away from swirling pretty calligraphy into a notebook was proving to be impossible.

Every nuzzle to her neck was met with a playful push. Kissing her face just earned the pixie a “Mali, doll, I’m working.” It was infuriating. Why let her in if (Y/n) only planned on ignoring her? Her pale arms make their way around the princess’ waist, face falling against the girl’s back with a dramatic sigh. “I’m almost done, Doll. Just two more pages.” Two more? That won’t do, she needs more attention now. “Come on,” she drags the word out pulling away from her girlfriend with a whine. “Since when are you so good?” “I’ve always been good, Doll. You’re the villain between us, remember?” She uncaps a different pen, readjusting the notebook before her. “You don’t seem so good when you’re out running around with me and the other VKs. You ask how high when Uliana says just just like Morgie does.” It gets her a hum, pen tapping against the page in the speedy pattern. “Yeah well, if I make Uli happy she’ll do my hair. No one else here can braid like she can.” Mali laughs, “Fine, then if we can’t cuddle, let’s go see if she’ll do your hair. Give me something.” “I’ll be done soon.” She scoffs, lightly smacking the back of the girl’s shoulder, “You said you were doing homework.” (Y/n)’s eyes roll, sparing the girl a look over her shoulder, “Studying is homework, Mali.” Now her eyes roll, throwing herself back on the bed, “This isn’t studying. Studying is reading over notes, this is some other thing.” She hums, “Maybe that’s why my grades are higher than yours.” It’s a playful remark, the girl poking her tongue out at the pixie before turning back to her work.

She wants to play? Okay, they can play. She cuts a look to the girl, a pen cap held loosely in her mouth as she delicately drags a pen brush across a page. She was distracted enough. Turning into a large dragon took far too much energy from her, but a small one? One that could fit right in the girl’s lap? That was easy. Maleficent could barely feel it as her bones gave way. Shoulder blades and vertebrae stretching out to form the structure of wings. Purple scales forcing their way through pale skin, tearing their way into veins to beseen. She hasn’t let wings of any kind come out in so long, it felt heavenly. The stretch making her suppress a whimper. She desperately needed to do this more, instead of just when she felt the need to harass her way into getting what she wants.

Slowly, careful not to make too much noise, she flaps her wings, once, twice. By the third time, when she realized the sound wasn’t alerting (Y/n), she knew she could take flight. Fluttering through the dorm, she lands on the girl’s dresser, blowing a small puff of flames onto a candle then settling beside it. Waiting, glowing green eyes trained on the girl who had playfully become her prey. The smell of smoke would alert her, it always did. Lilac and smoke slowly and softly fill the air, making the princess look up, worried eyes glancing around the room before landing on her dresser. “Really? You’re that desperate for me?” Desperate? No, she was anything but that. While her eyes are away from the page, Maleficent takes flight again, swooping up the pens the girl was using before fluttering over her head.

“Mali, you’re just prolonging how long it will be before I can lay back and cuddle with you. You know that, right?” Her hand shoots up for her pens and the dragon flies closer to the ceiling. “This is ridiculous, you are being ridiculous.” Pens clatter into the wastebasket by the girl’s desk, the dragon swooping in to fill the girl’s lap before she can get up to retrieve them. “Are all fae this needy or just you?” The question is met with a nuzzle against her stomach, the dragon refusing to get too close to her skin in case she’d scratch the delicate stretch of flesh.

Sighing, the girl closes her two notebooks, pushing them to the side before she lays back. “If I take a little study break will you let me finish my work without whining?” The dragon crawls up her stomach, tilting her head to the side. Sweeten the deal. “If we cuddle?” Letting out a sigh, Mali curls up on the girl’s chest, her head laying just so close to her heart she feels as if she’s hearing the lubb-Dubb of it in her own head. “You’re not gonna turn back into a girl for me? Made you wait so long that I only deserve scales?” It’s not a complaint, not a real one at least. Her nails digging into the space between two wings, a glorious scratching sensation that makes Maleficent’s eyes lull closed. She was never above playing if the Royal wanted to play. She was always the winner of the girl’s long games.

[darkmajesty-xo]

Ready Player 1 ? - Shigaraki x reader

18+ MDNI | masturbation, praise , video chats, crack-humor

most would consider it unwise for a girl like you to be in these chat rooms due to the questionable discourse and rather infamous patrons, but girls just wanna have fun right ?

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: saw an old couple today, could be me and shig but he’s playing ☹️

user2345: i think you mean planning* as in planning world domination and torment of quirkless losers like you.

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: oh sweetheart you’ll never get any pussy if you keep acting like one

user3333: damn bro, you gonna take that ?

user2345: who gives a shit about some villain groupie ?

user2345: she keeps her mouth so full of cum that it’s starting to affect her whore brain.

user2345: do you really think the true leader of the new world would make time for some dumb cunt like you ?

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: there’s probably a higher chance of tomura shigaraki and i living happily ever after than there is of ANY woman even looking in your direction.

this was a normal friday night, you simping over shigaraki in the forums and clapping back at the misogynistic incels that hid behind their keyboards in their mothers’ basements. but there was one guy that always stood up for you whenever the idiots got too out of hand. he was also a moderator so he had no problems blocking them.

the two of you would dm off and on about life , thoughts on hero society, hobbies , etc. from your chats you gathered that he didn’t walk that straight and narrow but that didn’t mean much to you. he would sometimes tease your about your crush on shigaraki and your general taste in men.

finalboss: honestly, what kind of girl likes a criminal?; who knows what kind of twisted shit the guys into— you’re not even a villain.

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: you know nothing jon snow

finalboss: that reference just confirmed btw

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: i’ll have you know that my beloved is a certified otaku fantasy nerd.

finalboss: oh yeah ? and how’d you obtain such info ?

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: i run 3 stan accounts on twitter and i belong to a shiggy fan club 🥹

finalboss: 😃

finalboss: seek help

finalboss: 😃

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: you wound me ☹️

finalboss: i’ll just leave that too your Prince Charming lol

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: oh lord , did you see the footage of his latest attack ?

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: he was dressed like a whoreee 😩😩

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: tits just out for my viewing pleasure

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: shigaraki is my shepherd, he know what i want.

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: wanna suck on those sugar nips and call him mommy

finalboss: you get weirder and weirder every time we chat

xoxo_|hisMC ✮: that means we’re becoming besties ㅤ♡ ︎

finalboss: ♡ ︎

it was nice having someone to talk to about your secret obsession, it’s not like your “real life” friends would understand. the two of you had carved out your own little piece of the internet to goof around in. he never disclosed much information about himself and typically kept the conversations focused on you, but you still felt an undeniable bond to this faceless stranger.

then he ghosted you.

weeks went by without a word from your friend. he no longer defended you in the forums and he didn’t respond to any of your dms. you’d started to get worried that he may have been arrested or worse. and at the three month mark you’d finally given up hope that you’d ever hear from your friend again. but then the unexpected happened.

finalboss is requesting to video chat.

this was completely out of character but after months with no word, you were desperate to hear from your friend.

you were prepared to chew him him out for abandoning you. thinking of all the ways you could insult him while simultaneously expressing your need for his comfort and company. but your mind went blank when the grainy screen loaded into the pixelated image of your companion.

whispy tendrils fell from his bun, framing the sculpted planes of his handsome face. his lips were dry, slightly chapped, with the only lubrication being the sheen of saliva left by the slow drag of his tongue. bloodied eyes bore into your own leaving you breathless and dazed.

“hey bestie”

his voice was low and raspy, almost like a whisper. a deep rumbling that echoed in your ear drums. it was oddly hypnotic. he was absolutely mesmerizing.

tomura chuckled into the camera, showing flashes of perfectly white teeth. he leans back into the chair, a hand on the back of his neck showcasing a broad chest and toned abs.

“didn’t expect you to be this quiet, bestie. is my outfit not slutty enough for you ? i could always take these off…” his hand fell from his neck to rest and the waistband of his black jeans.

you remained speechless, eyes glued to the light dusting of hair below his belly button.

more laughter and shifting. now you were met with the glorious girth of shigaraki’s cock clenched tightly in his fist. the darkened tip oozed a sparkling trail of pre that spilled down his length. his thumb swiped the fluid to spread over his veiny member.

“c’mon , doll. don’t leave me hanging” he teased, squeezing his fist upwards to produce more pre. “i thought you wanted to be my ‘mc’ ? seems more like an npc if you ask me”.

“y-you’re him” you stammered, eyes following the slow drag of his fist. “you’re tomura shigaraki”.

“in the flesh” he teased, shooting a wink that went directly between your legs. “well kinda, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there. sorry i’ve been away so long, but you’d wait forever for me won’t you , perfect girl ?”

your nod was automatic. robotic even. you’d moved closer to the screen, completely engrossed by his ministrations.

“anything for you beyon—shiggy”

you both laughed at that. he appreciated your humor, especially with all the drama in his day to day. even in def con simp mode and being ghosted didn’t stop you from being undeniably you. that’s probably why he was as obsessed with you as you were with him.

“i know we probably have alot to discuss but todays been kind of shitty and i’d really like to explore our final fantasies”.

you snorted, “that was really bad , shig”.

he shrugged, “i’m a villain, not a comedian, beloved. “now show me that perfect little pussy”.

[cringecompanionapologist]

Moffat, Sexy Women, and More 80s Who Complaints:

Note: I am a woman and everything I'm saying is my opinion as an individual woman and not an attempt to represent women as a whole. We're like half the world's population. We're not gonna agree on everything.

I'm just gonna randomly say a bit about the Moffat era and women that's sort of a defense in an "this still feels better than other things" sort of way.

Look, I will not deny that the Moffat era (mostly 11's part) has some issues with women. Most of it, at least for me, has less to do with how the female characters are written and more to do with how the male characters address them (Let's Kill Hitler, I'm looking at you).

But, one thing that bothers other people that doesn't bother me as much is the sexualization. This is mostly compared to what came before it.

For me, because sexuality isn't an inherently negative thing, a character of any gender being sexualized isn't automatically a bad thing. It's more of a matter of subject vs. object.

To illustrate my point, let's bitch about 80s Who for a bit.

Now, when I say 80s Who, I'm mostly referring to the Saward Era (seasons 19-23/5th and 6th Doctors). Ace wasn't really sexualized in the same way the companions before her were.

If you dig through this blog, you'll find that this is sort of the third in a miniseries about various issues with 80s companions that mostly come down to something about gender. With Tegan, it's that she's an outspoken woman and treated negatively for it. With Turlough, it's that the EU tries to downplay the more gender-nonconforming aspects of his character, which admittedly mostly happened by accident.

This time, I'm talking about Peri. Peri was heavily sexualized but in a way that I don't particularly like. It ultimately comes down to how the era handles sexuality in general.

JNT was more of a marketing guy than a creative guy, but his ideas of marketing the show ended up contradicting one another. On one hand, he wanted to avoid controversy. Doctor Who had a bit of a history of controversy, though most of it was about how violent it was, something this era of the show clearly did not care about. Instead, the primary JNT/Saward obsession was with sex. It had to be clear that the Doctor did not fuck and never had. But, this sort of extended to the companions as well. 60s and 70s Who would occasionally give companions one-off love interests. This didn't happen a lot, but there was a history of it dating back to The Daleks, where Barbara makes out with one of the Thals for a bit. In 80s Who, the only time a companion got a love interest was right as she was leaving the show and that was a last minute change.

(Side Note: I'd once again like to comment that Doctor Who wrote women better in 1964 than in 1984 and that Barbara is a great character. The worst thing Moffat every did was have Twice Upon a Time trick people into thinking of this era as The Sexist One.)

You might be wondering, "so what? It's a kids show. Of course nobody's gonna be horny!". And yeah. There's absolutely nothing wrong with that. The problem is that the show isn't horny, but it is sexy.

What I mean: Horny is sexuality in-universe. It's the characters having sexual attraction and interests. Sexy is sexuality out-of-universe. It's characters being attractive to the audience.

Peri is the ultimate example of this. She's completely normal for this era of the show when it comes to sexuality. It's not really a thing and when it is it leads to almost immediate marriage. But, she's always dressed in revealing outfits. In Planet of Fire, she's on vacation in a warm region, so that makes sense, but she continues to dress that way everywhere she goes.

Peri is sexualized as fanservice for the audience and for villainous characters to leer at to make them more threatening. Her personality doesn't really match her choice of outfits. It's all for the benefit of the audience and a justification for creepy bad guy behavior.

I mentioned before the sexual subject vs. object. A subject does while an object is done to. A subject looks while an object is looked at. When a character's sexuality isn't an aspect of their character, existing primarily as something for the audience and other characters to leer at, she's a sexual object. And that sucks.

The reason Moffat's sexualization of characters like Amy and River doesn't bother me is that they do not have this problem. The women in this era are just as horny as the men. It's clear that these characters are the sort of people who'd choose to wear the outfits they wear. Yes, it's still fanservice written that way due to Moffat's horniness, but the female characters he writes have sexual agency. They're sexy because they're horny. They flirt with people they're attracted to. They're not just being leered at by the audience and other characters. They're looking as well as being looked at. They actively participate in the show's sexuality. They are sexual subjects.

Of course this doesn't work all the time. There's a lot of "men are horny idiots about women" jokes. When it comes to other aspects of female characters, there's a lot of talk of them being overly emotional and focused on romantic relationships. This did get better over time, being less of a thing with Clara and basically not a thing at all with Bill. I think Moffat was aware of the criticism he was getting and learned from his mistakes. But mistakes were certainly made.

But, though Moffat was obviously horny for his female characters, he them sexual agency. It might not be for everyone but it meant that the horniness of the era didn't bother me.

Besides, I'm horny for Moffat's female companions too. Is it morally different because I'm a woman being horny in a gay way?

[danmei-confessions]

I interpret the ending of "Scum Villain's Self-Saving System" (SVSSS) as more of a horror story.

The protagonist is trapped in a lifelong relationship with Luo Binghe, who is so emotionally insecure that the relationship could potentially end in mutual destruction. Unlike the other main leads (MLS) in Mo Xiang Tong Xiu's (MXTX) works, where the foundations of their relationships are clear, Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu (SQQ) have a much more precarious dynamic.

It's evident that Binghe is infatuated with SQQ, whether it be Shen Jiu or Shen Yuan, it doesn't seem to matter. I see the fact that MXTX concealed the identity behind the mask as a literal loose cannon revealing it would have caused everything to fall apart. I don't ship Bingmei and Shen Yuan because their relationship is based on a facade. They are obsessed with an image, not the true person behind it. Claiming it's true love is laughable when they idolize and fall in love with a persona.

In reality, both Luo Binghe and Bingmei are in love with the crafted pretend image of the lofty immortal Shen Jiu created and his beauty. LBG is a stallion protagonist for a reason - he was mesmerized with his Shen Jiu looks. Let's be for real, would Bingge would have spared a glance at Shen Yuan without SQQ's identity? The OG stallion is not lacking in beauties? So what if Shen Yuan is funny and loves Binghe for who he is? He's not the only one.

It's almost as if Shen Yuan's denial of reality, his jokes, and dissociation prevent him from confronting the truth. As an internet troll, ending up with Bingmei seems like a punishment. The system purposely chose someone who obsesses over their idol Binghe, the opposite of Jiu, who despises him purposely almost as if the original wasn't satisfied with the ending. Shen Yuan will love Bingmei wholeheartedly, just like fans love their idols regardless of their faults.

Yes, Shen Yuan made sacrifices and helped Bingmei, but no one would react calmly in his situation. Bingmei, the most bipolar character ever, would obviously lose it if he realized the truth. He thought he finally gained approval from the Shizun he worshipped.

I theorize as long as Shen Yuan has the face and voice, Bingmei would still accept him, even though his world turned upside down. Why? Cause he's delusional, he'll accept anything of his Shizun regardless. I think if an identity reveal were to happen, LBH is selfish enough if SY didn't have a Face Reveal to be the 'not my problem' type. SY personality (if you can really call it that since everything he shows to everyone is different than what be thinks/innermonologues) + SJ face and LBH could live happily in his own delusion.

Just look at Bingge. He wanted the 'kind Shizun' because he believes it was an alternate SQQ, not a completely different person. I mean, who will believe with his 600 harem of 'Peerless Beauties' he would settle for SY true face? Oh no, sir/ma'am, he wanted the 'kind Shizun' cause it has SQQ looks, and that's the end of the story.

I don't see Shen Yuan and Shen Jiu as looking alike or being twins, unlike the popular au or fanfics I've seen personally. Shen Yuan feels like a parasite who can't stand alone and just attaches himself to OGShen Jiu's face, body, and everything he worked for. I headcanon his looks as a normal dude, not a peerless beauty from a book.

Like? Why do people who read the book are so surface level with it as if the Male lead's feelings isn't complex enough about OG? I do believe he was charmed by OG, but SY's SQQ feed onto those pre-existing feelings that were already there in the first place.

Why do readers of "Scum Villain's Self-Saving System" (SVSSS) often take such a surface-level approach to the complexity of the male lead's feelings toward the original Shen Qingqiu (OG SQQ)? I believe Luo Binghe was charmed by the original Shen Qingqiu (Shen Jiu), and Shen Yuan's version of SQQ merely fed into those pre-existing feelings that were already there in the first place. In fact, I'll go as far as to say he fell in love with Shen Jiu - an unpopular opinion, but one I stand by.

This isn't about shipping them. It simply doesn't make sense that Luo Binghe fell in love with Shen Yuan's SQQ so easily unless the feelings were already there. This is why he spent his teenage years trying to gain Shen Qingqiu's acceptance and why he transitioned from worshipping the ground Shen Jiu walked on to absolutely hating him, despite not seeing him for years.

I don't think his feelings toward Shen Jiu changed during his time in the abyss; rather, his perspective did. Binghe concluded that the only way to get Shen Jiu's attention was to be cruel. No matter how strong or kind he became, Shen Jiu's disdain for him was an undeniable fact within the canon. Binghe convinced himself that Shen Qingqiu was incapable of love and a terrible human being to cope with the constant rejection.

In the book, Binghe's reaction to Shen Qingqiu's grief over Yue Qingyuan's death is telling. Despite going out of his way to kill the one person Shen Jiu loved most, Binghe is genuinely surprised by Shen Qingqiu's sadness. When he sees how broken Shen Qingqiu is, he doesn't mock or berate him as he thought he would. Instead, he walks away, uncomfortable, because he has to confront the reality that SQQ is capable of love, just not for him.

When Binghe meets Shen Yuan's SQQ, his worldview is further crushed. There exists a reality where SQQ adores him, but it's not the same SQQ. He can't even win SQQ's affection in competition with himself. I despise Binghe, but I feel for him because this must reinforce the idea that something is inherently wrong with him. This realization is so distressing that he starts crying, something he hasn't done since he was 14. Both versions of Binghe are obsessed because that's the only way they know how to love.

To be clear, Luo Binghe isn't bitter about the abuse. Well, maybe it's a part of it, but to me, he's bitter because he was rejected. Had Shen Jiu accepted his love, Binghe wouldn't have gone to the extremes to destroy him and honestly respect to him for rather going through torture than to succumb to a genocidal murder maniac of a yandere.

.

[danmeiconfession]

I interpret the ending of "Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System" (SVSSS) as more of a horror story. The protagonist is trapped in a lifelong relationship with Luo Binghe, who is so emotionally insecure that the relationship could potentially end in mutual destruction. Unlike the other main leads (MLs) in Mo Xiang Tong Xiu's (MXTX) works, where the foundations of their relationships are clear, Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu (SQQ) have a much more precarious dynamic.

It's evident that Binghe is infatuated with SQQ, whether it be Shen Jiu or Shen Yuan, it doesn't seem to matter. I see the fact that MXTX concealed the identity behind the mask as a literal loose cannon – revealing it would have caused everything to fall apart. I don't ship Bingmei and Shen Yuan because their relationship is based on a facade. They are obsessed with an image, not the true person behind it. Claiming it's true love is laughable when they idolize and fall in love with a persona.

In reality, both Luo Binghe and Bingmei are in love with the crafted pretend image of the lofty immortal Shen Jiu created and his beauty. LBG is a stallion protagonist for a reason – he was mesmerized  with his Shen Jiu looks. Let's be for real, would Bingge would have spared a glance at Shen Yuan without SQQ's identity? The OG stallion not lacking in beauties? So what if Shen Yuan is funny and loves Binghe for who he is, he's not the only one?

It's almost as if Shen Yuan’s denial of reality, his jokes, and dissociation prevent him from confronting the truth. As an internet troll, ending up with Bingmei seems like a punishment. The system purposely chose someone who obsesses over their idol Binghe, the opposite of Jiu, who despises him purposely almost as if the original wasn't satisfied with the ending . Shen Yuan will love Bingmei wholeheartedly, just like fans love their idols regardless of their faults.

Yes, Shen Yuan made sacrifices and helped Bingmei, but no one would react calmly in his situation. Bingmei, the most bipolar character ever, would obviously lose it if he realized the truth. He thought he finally gained approval from the Shizun he worshipped.

I theorize As long as Shen Yuan has the face and voice, Bingmei would still accept him, even though his world turned upside down. Why? Cause he's delusional he'll accept anything of his Shizun regardless. I think if an identity reveal were to happen LBH is selfish enough if SY didn't have a Face Reveal to be the 'not my problem' type. SY personality (if you can really call it that since everything he shows to everyone is different than what be thinks/inner monologues) + SJ face and LBH could live happily in his own delusion. Just look at Bingge, he wanted the 'kind Shizun' because he believes it was an alternate SQQ not a completely different person. I mean who will believe with his 600 harem of 'Peerless Beauties' he would settle for SY true face? Oh no sir/ma'am, he wanted the 'kind Shizun' cause it has SQQ looks and thats the end of the story.

I don't see Shen Yuan and Shen Jiu as looking alike or being twins unlike the popular au or fanfics I've seen personally. Shen Yuan feels like a parasite who can't stand alone and just attaches himself to OGShen Jiu’s face, body and everything he worked for. I headcanon his looks as a normal dude, not a peerless beauty from a book.

Like? Why do people who read the book are so surface level with it as if the Male lead's feelings isn't complex enough about OG? I do believe he was charmed by OG, but SY's SQQ feed onto those pre-existing feelings that were already there in the first place.

Why do readers of "Scum Villain's Self-Saving System" (SVSSS) often take such a surface-level approach to the complexity of the male lead’s feelings toward the original Shen Qingqiu (OG SQQ)? I believe Luo Binghe was charmed by the original Shen Qingqiu (Shen Jiu), and Shen Yuan's version of SQQ merely fed into those pre-existing feelings that were already there in the first place. In fact, I'll go as far as to say he fell in love with Shen Jiu – an unpopular opinion, but one I stand by.

This isn’t about shipping them. It simply doesn’t make sense that Luo Binghe fell in love with Shen Yuan’s SQQ so easily unless the feelings were already there. This is why he spent his teenage years trying to gain Shen Qingqiu's acceptance and why he transitioned from worshipping the ground Shen Jiu walked on to absolutely hating him, despite not seeing him for years.

I don’t think his feelings toward Shen Jiu changed during his time in the abyss; rather, his perspective did. Binghe concluded that the only way to get Shen Jiu���s attention was to be cruel. No matter how strong or kind he became, Shen Jiu’s disdain for him was an undeniable fact within the canon. Binghe convinced himself that Shen Qingqiu was incapable of love and a terrible human being to cope with the constant rejection.

In the book, Binghe’s reaction to Shen Qingqiu’s grief over Yue Qingyuan’s death is telling. Despite going out of his way to kill the one person Shen Jiu loved most, Binghe is genuinely surprised by Shen Qingqiu’s sadness. When he sees how broken Shen Qingqiu is, he doesn’t mock or berate him as he thought he would. Instead, he walks away, uncomfortable because he has to confront the reality that SQQ is capable of love, just not for him.

When Binghe meets Shen Yuan’s SQQ, his worldview is further crushed. There exists a reality where SQQ adores him, but it’s not the same SQQ. He can't even win SQQ’s affection in competition with himself. I despise Binghe, but I feel for him because this must reinforce the idea that something is inherently wrong with him. This realization is so distressing that he starts crying, something he hasn’t done since he was 14. Both versions of Binghe are obsessed because that’s the only way they know how to love

To be clear, Luo Binghe isn't bitter about the abuse maybe it's a part of it but to me ; he's bitter because he was rejected. Had Shen Jiu accepted his love, Binghe wouldn't have gone to the extremes to destroy him and honestly respect to him for rather going through torture than to succumb to a genocidal murder maniac of a yandere.

.

[lets-try-some-writing]

I have been reading your review of Transformers One again and also looking back at the movie, which gives me this hot potato take:

Orion Pax weirdly feels like a Gary Stu, not because he was overpower and flawless (which I know there are no solid definitions of the term Mary Sue/Gary Stu and I don't think he's one). It's just that his characteristics felt too convenient to the plot as the writers just slap all the likable traits of a typical heroic character and just called it's a day without further exploration. They tried to go for the angle of a normal bot, average Joe from lower classes that get thrust into adventure and great destiny. But nothing about him is normal, even though he was supposed to be an insignificant miner. He was already special in the movie, with his tendency to break protocols and his obsession to find Matrix and be something more, and as you mentioned in your review, we simply don't know why he adamant about finding the Matrix. Would it be better that we showed a hint of Orion Pax not trusting Sentinel actually finding the Matrix in his expedition and felt out of place for being the only one who's skeptical of Sentinel??? And his trust issues with Sentinel could come from all his times sneaking and reading the history of Cybertron and noticing the hole in those records??? This would have made him very compelling and interesting, and also explained why he was so calm and level-head about Sentinel's lie and betrayals compared to other characters. Yeah sure the movie "showed us" Orion Pax's good and heroic traits to hint at his worth for the Prime title later, but uhm, it feels like the movie told us about his traits instead and expect us to roll with his characteristics as his scenes didn't convey these traits well enough or quite lacking.

And for a character supposed to be the main protagonist, he felt more like a deuteragonist supporting D-16/Megatron, which resulted in him being that hero who was just there to make the main villain more compelling and interesting.

I did like TF:O Orion Pax in my first round but after sometimes, I realized I simply like him because I projected a much-better written protagonist with similar traits into Orion Pax and made way him more interesting than he's actually is.

Aside from my issues with Orion Pax, Elita-1 is simply a plot device character, and I just don't get her personality/characteristics at all. She also didn't have any arc and her interactions with other characters, especially with Orion Pax when they were on the surface felt very artificial to me. And she's fake girlboss because nowhere in the movie showed that she's better than anyone, especially Orion Pax.

This is just my longest ramblings about my issues with the movie that barely evoked any emotions for me.

No no you are absolutely cooking with this.

TFO Orion IS a Gary Sue. He has no proper emotional base in order to establish his goals and opinions on things. His background is plain but lacks the hint or originality needed to give him the spark to act out of line, at least in a believable manner. His behavior is selfish, and yet he is proclaimed a hero by the end of the film without his arc having been completed. Orion can absolutely be selfish and foolish in the beginning, but if we are going to herald him as a saint, he needed to have had more development. As it stands, Orion was made God's favorite because... reasons. (Alpha Trion why didn't you guide our main cast while you had the chance????)

I 100000% agree with you on your assessment of Elita. She's there for the sake of sending a poorly written message and that is all. No growth, no real origin, no backstory, no properly established relationships. She's there to kick around a few future Decepticons and make everyone else look like fools. She needed so much more to be excellent, and I am legitimately sad that she didn't get the arc she needed to be a respectable character.

It seems we are on the same page anon.

[visgrapplinghooks]

a very long fucking rant about neurodivergence, the internet, controversy, and conflict

I've done my best to try to make references to specific dramas and situations as vague as possible, since I really don't want to stir shit with the fucking losers who care way more about which total stranger to me abused another total stranger to me than I do. If you're the kind of person who cares strongly about creating villains and victim narratives, this post probably isn't for you.

The internet is kinda bad for neurodivergent people, particularly people with innate social communication dysfunctions (autistic people). I've been noticing this for a while, but every other internet controversy I observe seems to have neurodivergence in some way involved. Typically, some kind of longstanding mental illness, very frequently autism spectrum disorder as well. Three streamers I know of that have all had controversies where they get grossly misunderstood or misrepresented by others and dogpiled by internet communities, all three of them diagnosed autistic. A situation regarding one autistic YouTuber crossing the boundaries of another autistic content creator due to what appears from the outside to me as a failure of communication. Another who kinda defined the term "lolcow", well… I don't think I need to go too much into that. There was that thing with another autistic creator ages ago posting sexually explicit messages in their Discord server where minors were present. I would argue almost all of these controversies mentioned are in some way related to being neurodivergent and their engagement with the internet.

A lot of the people I'm referencing are Old Guard online or have been online for a long time. Being streamers also kinda necessitates you immerse yourself in online culture quite heavily. Humans, to develop adequate social response mechanisms for human and serious things and communicate them appropriately, typically need regular socialization. For neurodivergent people, this is often not an option. The real world sucks.

The problem with autism in particular, and this has been noted by autism groups irl, is that there really is no such thing as an "obvious" cue. Depending on how severe the social cognition impairment is, you may not learn any social responses at all for your entire early adult life and need them explicitly stated to you. In dangerous cases, your grip on reality can get so broken that you don't know what is and isn't acceptable. There's a genuine and real problem of autistic people (men in particular) failing to learn appropriate sexual boundaries. There's also a problem of autistic people not learning how to advocate when they're uncomfortable due to childhood experiences. This is very obviously going to lead to some pretty fucking bad situations, especially between two autistic people.

To neurodivergent people as a whole, this is also a thing of "your social environment dictates what behavior you think is normal". And if your "normal" is environments like YouTube comments, Reddit, internet forums, Tumblr, then what you think is acceptable is completely insane to the average person. And while this can function well-enough for most things, this often fails to be adequate socialization for things like human friendships and sexual situations. This, again, is likely to lead to problems. On top of that, there is a tendency for the internet to be… rather ableist. Online mobs tend to be very obsessively hypercritical of neurodivergent people in particular (often autistic people), because they give off "bad vibes" to them or otherwise come off as abrasive. The problem with this is that the average human is ableist as fuck. It's been demonstrated that most allistic people can clock autistic people as "weird" within moments of meeting or interacting with them. The same goes for neurotypicals and most neurodivergent people. This tends to then frame large swathes of the internet's perceptions of people's behavior and lead to generally higher rates of scrutiny for neurodivergent people online, again, leading to the generation of controversy.

Essentially, the first premise I'm outlining here is the internet is a bit of a controversy and boundary-crossing factory, and the prime subjects of this are overwhelmingly going to be neurodivergent people. Particularly those with some kind of social communication problem. In fact, you also see this with some creators with ADHD (especially streamers) impulsively saying shit on stream and that getting clipped and used against them. The second premise is the nature of "culpability" and "blame". One of the biggest issues with controversies online is that they're very focused on the act of blaming someone or the framing of a person as a bad actor. This becomes especially dicey when a lot of controversies are about interpersonal interactions and relationships that you would never have heard of or cared about if not for the internet. Very rarely are there interactions (between adults, at least) where one party is a unilaterally bad actor.

Putting the proneness of blame together with the issues of boundaries and social communication, you're more likely to end up with oversimplified framing of very nuanced and complex social interactions. My reading of the aforementioned situation with the two autistic content creators for example, for example, even when it was initially a hot topic, is that, "this reads like an autistic person who has no idea what boundaries are". Upon learning that the other party was also autistic, it also made a lot of sense as to why they didn't just tell them to stop or explicitly state their discomfort with it, either. Autistic people can often be bad at setting boundaries for themselves. That's not an excuse for one's behavior, but I think it's a meaningful analysis.

Escaping the specifics of that particular situation and discussing things as a whole… who exactly is to blame in situations like this? I think, in a lot of ways, the desire to jump to blaming people or villainizing them leads to more harm than good. This is especially in cases where they respond very poorly to online backlash and criticism. Most human beings would probably become mentally ill after being an online public figure. If you have something that already predisposes you to bad stress reactions, this kind of thing could be devastating for your personal life.

It's long been my stance that 90% of the things that online influencers get held under super high scrutiny for would not stick nearly as hard to actual celebrities. I think due to the "intimate" nature of internet parasociality, online figures are just easier targets than real celebrities, most of the time. That being said, this does not mean individuals involved in these controversies are wholly innocent or blameless. I'm sure in every controversy imaginable, someone could have communicated better, explained themselves better, worked harder to recognize boundaries, etc. My take here is that in most cases, the fixation on complete fucking strangers placing blame on people and being super emotionally and parasocially invested in these controversies just worsens them and in many cases may cause or exacerbate them.

I don't want to equivocate violating sexual boundaries and sexual harassment with saying cringe online discourse shit. They're not equally bad. However, I do think there are common interpersonal and particularly online structural mechanisms that operate and enact during such controversies.

This also applies to neurotypical people, in general, as normalized social environments create some bad behaviors and tendencies. However, I do think neurodivergent - and specifically autistic people - are disproportionately likely to be impacted by it.

To wrap up this rant, I'll close with something vague about myself. I've been in some online communities I probably shouldn't have been. I've been on Discord since I was a young adolescent. Before that, I was a forum lurker and even poster. I have done things and said things to others I shouldn't have. I also know that I am autistic and grew up on the internet. It took me until this year to realize how much that even impacted me as an individual online and in person. Humans, particularly neurodivergent humans, are kind of just bundles of neuroses that clash with other bundles of neuroses and will often seriously hurt each other during those clashes. I'm certain other ND adults, other neurodivergent adults in here included, would probably have the worst and weirdest shit about their histories brought up and scrutinized if they were to become a public figure online. It'd be absolute hell. And gods forbid it hasn't crossed boundaries into something that seriously harms others, but sometimes that happens, too. I don't think that failing to develop and then tripping over yourself so hard that you won't be able to get up should be the defining experience of every neurodivergent person online.

Addendum: it's just idk dude I have no idea what I don't know maybe I'm doing cringe unacceptable shit right now and nobody's told me yet but people will still blame me for not just magically Knowing that I shouldn't be doing it because it's "obvious" and then some piece of shit will make some fucking bluesky or X thread about it in 5 years and then other lowlifes will doxx me why do we just accept that the internet works this way?

[bibibbon]

Quirks and MHA society

Throughout the manga there is this reoccurring theme of people not being able to use and control their quirks and the quirk system being broken but honestly this plot point never really goes anywhere in my opinion or if it is used it's not used properly and never reaches it's fullest potential.

Like we see people break the law a bunch of times by using their quirks illegally and we see people state that they cannot control their quirks but nothing is done about it. We never see people arrested for quirk use unless said quirk use harms people.

If it's illegal to use your quirk then how is it that you have middle schoolers freely using their quirks in school or how normal members of the public use their quirks? Also what does this mean for people born with a heteromorphic quirk? Is part of the reason they're discriminated because they can't turn if their quirks or is it because so heteromorphic quirks make the user look more alien and less human? The government in MHA doesn't seem to be very strict about quirk use laws but states that it is (hori failing in show don't tell again🤷‍♀️)

What about people whose quirks are dangerous if they don't release it? What do they do? Do they just have to suffer or does the MHA government have a facility where people can safely release their quirk? This doesn't seem likely considering that izuku, ochako, Katsuki and miriko ran into someone who they(miriko and bakugo)deemed a villain for not being able to control his quirk. This case is treated as a one off incident but it really isn't. If one person has a quirk like that then that means so many other civilians do and they could of been pushed into villainy due to it. Hori establishes that the MHA universe lacks establishments that help people discharge/release or deal with their quirk but he never outright does anything with this plot point (it's mainly used to justify characters actions or villainy)

Horikoshi also introduces the half baked idea that quirks can influence ones personality and desires. This idea is introduced mainly in the MVA arc to ig justify characters (like toga and tomuras) actions and behaviours. I think it could of been a good idea if characters end up acting similarly or develop similar traits that come from their quirk however as I mentioned before the idea is half baked. Toga having an interest/craving in blood because thats how her quirk works makes sense but it's not heavily established. When it comes to toga we get mentions of how broken the quirk counselling system is and how instead of helping her to deal with a quirk that makes her have such a strong fascination and affection to blood it only made her suppress the urges until she went off the rails into full insanity. When it comes to tomura this idea is only used as an excuse (almost) for his actions, his quirk is used to demonise him and make him more of this completely psycho villain who loves to destroy things because that's his nature?!? When it really isn't.

Quirk counselling is a plot point with so much wasted potential. Like how did quirk counselling work? Was it a legal requirement or was it recommended? Did it actually help some people by helping kids understand their quirks, help them with control, offer any support equipment if needed to deal with the quirk and teach children morals? It seems like people with ordinary common quirks benefit more from the system then people with unique quirks that have unique side effects. We are told that toga's quirk counselling was full of adults not understanding and telling her that she is a weird psycho who is obsessed with blood instead of actually helping her. We see curious herself admit that there are many problems with the quirk counselling system and how it only benefited people with certain types of quirks and how it was basically a place teaching and breeding children to learn "right" and "wrong".

We see the quirk counselling system fail but it's never addressed. MHA chapter 22 shows how people with powerful or uncontrollable quirks tend to be failed by the system just like how toga and tomuras were. Eri is a special case you can't even know if she is just being trained or if she attends general counselling because in all truth we aren't told. Eri also faces the same problem where she can't have too much build up for her quirk or it will hurt her so shouldn't MHA dive deeper into the idea of quirk counselling and people not being able to control their quirks. Heck you even have all might state that he has noticed a lot of people can't control their quirks which brings the question is quirk counselling only for young people in elementary school and not for older people because people like midoriya who had a quirk in his teenage years was never forced to do any quirk counselling by the government?!?!?!?

Overall, in my opinion quirks in MHA is a wasted potential of a plot point and topic. MHA fails to truly delve and dig deep into topics like how the government fails in providing help with quirk counselling or establishments that help people deal with their quirks, or how less people know how to control their quirks being a result for the quickly failing system or how badly the law is reinforced . These ideas intertwining with quirk inequality and how it affects peoples day to day life could of all been interesting points to explore.

[notenoughdragons]

so i caved yesterday after *gestures* all of that on the other side of the pond, and bought veilguard (meant to wait till the first bugfix patch is out), and i have thoughts

(spoilers for the first few quests)

fucking adore the character creator. overwhelming as heck but God a+

addendum: why tf aren't there different lip/mouth shapes. we have like 30 eyelash options. i'm p sure da:i had diff mouth shapes

THERE'S NO QUICK SAVE/LOAD OPTION???? why on god's green earth

the photo mode is NEAT (tip, get yourself reshade plus the "mod" that allows hiding the UI, so you can do screenshot nonsense in cutscenes too)

it took me like 15 min to get rid of the quest marker bc that shit is hidden in Two diff menus but oh my god so worth it

on that note, i'm Really enjoying the area/level/dungeon design, and traversing it Without an annoying big blue star thing blinking at you is really good

the environments are just. unhinged in the best way. THE CROSSROADS? D'META VILLAGE?? THE OSSUARY???? perfect no notes

have i mentioned the hair? the hair is really good. i'm a lttle obsessed with the style i gave my rook, i didn't think i'd like it this much

okay let's talk plot bc. uh.

see, on the one hand? so far (recruited bellara and got the dagger and fucked around in the crossroads and am currently getting murdered by murdering calivan so lucanis will murder for Me) it… works for me? like it really feels like getting thrown into the DEEP deep end, but it's a kind of. idk. sensible progression?

and oh my god ghilan'nain. i kinda hate how normal she comes across in the memory dungeon lab? (which. AMAZING QUEST) but also i love that SHE'S UNHINGED, that solas clearly held sympathies for her, the way i YELLED when you hear her voice when that dragon shows up in the blighted village??? amazing

(NO fucking idea how this would play for someone who's not familiar with the series, good lord the amount of exposition crammed randomly into codex cards???)

that being said. how the fuck does this connect from trespasser/tevinter nights. solas what Happened to you. like this is (part of) why i'm Not using saar as the inq in this run, bc even pretending they Weren't madly in love, it doesn't work. i don't think it works for Any inquisitor who befriended/romanced him (unless maybe one who decided to go full scorched earth and hunt him down at all costs)

in meta terms i know why this is happening but How is varric our insight point into solas and the connection to him. even if you're not playing them, this Should be the inq. solas doesn't lose a single fucking word about anyone But the inquisitor in trespasser. it's just this really tragic dissonance y'know

also the way this game is frontloaded is so fucking funny (i am also choosing to find it funny). IMMEDIATELY unleash the evanuris. IMMEDIATELY get solas trapped somewhere so he can't use his not-god powers to help you. FIRST "normal" quest is a horror movie walkthrough of The Most Blighted Village You Can Imagine, like okay! solas spends all of da:i being fucking coy about the blight and now it's like 'the evanuris are blighted. yeah they used the blight for power that's why i trapped them. they got out and immediately start spitting blight everywhere For Power. the REST of the blight is trapped in the evanuris prison. yeah the black city IS the evanuris prison. also blight is alive too. uh what else'

sidenote. did. did no one think it was A Little Weird to frame it like 'solas is trapped in the fade' - 'but not like us! we're also trapped in the fade but in a completely different way!'

i do love the fade conversations, it's got dishonored vibes

(and cut-away scenes to the Villains Having Ominous Convos! i liked that in da:o)

also i have hints turned on and the. the little pop-ups. "solas remembers your verbal jab" THANKS GAME

ACTUALLY SPEAKING OF THOSE VILLAIN CONVERSATIONS. we're just gonna drop into a fucking codex that the lyrium dagger IS the red lyrium idol??? SOLAS CAN CLEANSE THE BLIGHT AND WE'RE NOT GONNA TALK ABOUT IT????

basically. the connective tissue to da:i etc is uhhhh. insane. bonkers, even. but also when i ignore that, it's legit fun??

also good lord i'm glad i didn't try to come up with a super specific character/backstory for this, the faction backstories are Real specific, and rook is written with a v definitive Slant (not a bad one! but there IS a slant)

[letraspal]

Simon Snow journey to queerness

A compilation of quotes of Simon Snow thinking/talking about his queerness through books.

Book 1: Carry On

He’s not a villain. He’s just a boy. I’m kissing a boy. I’m kissing Baz.

And then I think about whether this, what’s happening right now, means that I’m gay. But Baz and I are hidden in the trees, and no one can see us, and I decide I don’t have to answer that last question right now.

I wonder how long he’s wanted this. I wonder how long I’ve wanted it.

I’m not sure why I’m so happy. Nothing’s changed. Has anything changed? The kissing. That’s new. The waiting to kiss.

I want to kiss a bloke. That is a change, but no one I’m prepared to think about right now. …Again. I want to kiss him again.

“Why, then” he asks. / “Why did I kiss you?”/ “Yeah.” / “I guess I wanted to,” I say, shrugging. / “Since when?” / I shrug again, and it pisses him off.

“I didn’t think you were gay,” I say. Quietly. He shrugs. Half of Snow’s sentences are shrugs.“What does that mean?” / “I don’t know,” he says, closing his eyes. “I guess I’ve never thought much about what I am. I’ve got a lot on my plate.” That makes me laugh.

“Are you gay?” he asks, looking over at me, still laughing. / “Yeah,” I say, “completely.” / “So you do this all the time?” / I roll my eyes. “No.” / “Then how do you know you’re gay?” / “I just do. How do you not know?” / “Dunno,” he says.

But apparently, I can also solve things with my mouth—because, so far, every time I lean into Baz, he shuts up and closes his eyes. If Penelope were here, she’d make me explain myself. Thank magic she isn’t here yet.

What would Agatha say if she knew about the kissing? “You’re not even gay, Simon.” […] “you’re not even gay,” she’d say, “and he’s not even alive.”

“You’re not even gay, and he’s not even alive, and that isn’t even the worst part of this idea—what will the Mage say?”

“And I don’t think I’m gay,” I say. “I mean, maybe I am, at least partly, the part that seems to be demanding the most attention right now…”

He leans in like he’s going to bite me, then he kisses me instead. It’s so good. It’s been very good every time.

“We don’t have to do this” […] “No one has to know.” / “Know what?” Snow asked softly. “That I’m obsessed with you? That horse left the barn a long time ago”

“They’ll know,” I (Baz) say. “They’ll talk about it.” / “What?” He’s a million miles away. He’s always a million miles away lately. / “They’ll know that we’re gay.” / “There go my job prospects,” Simon says flatly. “What will my family say?” I’m not sure where the joke is.

“Baz, you’re actually, literally the only thing I have to lose. So as long as doing gay stuff in public doesn’t make you hate me, I don’t really care.” / “We’re just dancing,” I say. “That’s hardly gay stuff.” / “Dancing’s well gay,” he says. “Even when it isn’t two blokes.”

He will call me Simon now, occasionally, but only when we’re being soft with each other. (All that’s still happening, too. I suppose I am gay; my therapist says it’s not even the top five things I have to sort out right now.)

And sometimes I feel like someone else died, like someone else sacrificed everything, so that I can have a normal life. With wings. And a tail. And vampires. And magicians. And a boy in my arms, instead of a girl. And a happy ending—even if isn’t the ending I ever would have dreamt for myself, or hoped for. A chance.

[diesvitae]

once you're finished the game could you share your elgarook Thoughts? as i fellow villain fucker i also want him but i cant think of a plot that makes sense for rook and him to get together in any way shape or form akdbsj

OH HI!!! In truth now that I'm done with the game I still have to rework some points in my Elgarook timeline. But in case of Nadir and Elgar'nan... (POSSIBLE SPOILERS BELOW THE CUT)

1) Their first (solo) meeting is an attempted assassination from my lil Rook, who was probably also kinda drunk, since he attacks with a normal dagger which is... kinda useless against a god. Elgar'nan in game seems pretty chill, offering "mercy" more than once so I doubt he would be pissed at Nadir for trying. 2) Words are exchanged, Nadir is trapped and probably panicking a bit once he understands the situation he got into, he's able to flee, but there is some sort of curiosity between the two: Elgar'nan can easily sense Nadir is a mage (and a powerful one) but my lil Rook never uses magic, especially the offensive one. That's a mystery he's curious about considering it makes no sense to him (one who's obsessed with power) Nadir refuses to use his natural gifts. And this fear to use magic makes him a perfect pawn to be manipulated and guided to become someone like him. Plus it would be a nice little revenge against Solas, to steal Rook away. Nadir, while looking like this cute smug creature, is pretty insecure, he hates using magic due to hurting people by mistake each time he tried to control it. He hates acting like a hero because he can't see himself as a good person, just a cursed one. But around Elgar'nan he doesn't have to pretend to be perfect, to be controlled. Elgar'nan is the enemy, who cares about his opinion after all? And somehow that lack of care becomes a sense of freedom. So for a while they seek each other out, to learn, to test boundaries, it's a little game neither give much importance. Elgar'nan needs a hobby beyond conquering the world and Nadir needs time away from responsibilities.

That being said, despite starting a literal affair with the enemy, my Rook is beyond loyal to the team, and makes it clear he won't divulge anything which could hurt his friends or help the evanuris. Another part of their dynamic is what they gain from each other. Nadir is quite the atheist, he recognizes Elgar'nan can be considered a god, but he doesn't feel the need to worship anything or anyone. Which makes him see Elgar as a person. He's close to him not to gain godly favor, power or whatever. He simply enjoys his company and the parts of Elgar'nan which can be considered... human (wrong word XD) A person who's built empires using only his power would end up with nothing if that power were to disappear. But Nadir? He would stay. So Elgar'nan gains what it feels to get real unconditional love. On the other hand Nadir gets to be free from his fears. He doesn't have to be scared about using magic around the evanuris because he literally can't hurt them, and even if he were to... it's enemies! Technically he would be doing good by hurting them XD Plus Elly is training him! He doesn't have to act like a hero amonst his enemies. He doesn't have to act like a leader since that's a role Elgar'nan won't leave to anyone. There is also the affection which builds over time which is always nice XD (and the fucks are real good too.) In the end I want them to be like two jigsaw puzzle pieces which lock with each other perfectly despite being completely different. (And yes, Nadir is still going to kill him at the end, in a tragic and painful scene.) As for you, it depends what kind of dynamic you want! You can have your rook act as a spy, joining his side to gather his secrets only to fall for him. Or you can have Rook kidnapped only to have Elgar'nan treating them courteously. Honestly it depends on your tastes!

[sapphic-agent]

Can you please get into how much the fandom demonizes Rei? Like, I’m not disagreeing that she wasn’t the best mother. But people really turn this woman (who is financially, socially, AND emotionally dependent on her husband and Clan!) into some abusive mother who WANTED to burn Shoto’s face! When it’s obvious that she was begging her mother to take her away from the house because she was too stressed out from Endeavor’s influence and Touya’s death!

I don’t know, I just think she’s not a perfect mother, but nobody can be a perfect mother. She clearly did her best with what she had, and who would’ve believed her if she said Endeavor was an abusive husband and father? The police? Other heroes? No! I bet Endeavor would’ve claimed that SHE was the terrible parent and that she was suffering from PPSD (which, she probably was, four kids, two of which were born when Endeavor started getting obsessed with overcoming All Might? She definitely had that) and she would’ve ended up in the hospital no matter what.

Let's talk about it😈

So I was actually skimming through the manga where Shoto mentions this. He says that his mother was pushed and pushed by Endeavor until she just broke. And I love this because Shoto understands that his mom was in a shitty situation and never intended to hurt him. Unlike this shitty fandom, he's aware enough to see who was the abuser and who was the one who made a mistake.

Let's go over Rei's past for a minute. She:

Grew up in an environment that was at the best neglectful and at the worst abusive

Was sold like an object (and yes this is canon, the Himura Clan canonically sells their children it was a forced marriage, not an arranged marriage)

Married Endeavor and had Touya at 18

Already, she was dealt a shitty hand. Endeavor is also four years older than her, so he was 22 while she was only barely an adult. Even outside her being bought by him, there's a huge power imbalance here. Even if he was polite and nice in the beginning, she was at a major disadvantage in their "relationship."

One of my gripes with Horikoshi and the later parts of the manga is the retcon of the Todoroki past. How Shoto tells the story and how it's portrayed later are very different.

In Shoto's version, Endeavor hit Rei for defending him from Endeavor. In the Touya flashback, she tripped. In Shoto's version, Endeavor only saw his children as means to an end. In the Touya flashback, he's portrayed as caring about them. In Shoto's version, there's a menacing and villainous aura surrounding Endeavor. In the Touya flashback he's portrayed normally.

And this is done to make Endeavor look more sympathetic. Which is bad not only because he was an abuser who doesn't deserve sympathy, it also antagonizes Touya and Rei in the process.

(People could argue that Shoto's love for his mother and young age make him an unreliable narrator. But to me this is dismissing the victim. Shoto might have been young, but he recalls enough to tell it in excruciating detail. It was a huge part of his life and writing it off like that does him a disservice)

So there are two instances specifically that people demonize Rei for.

1. Shoto's Burn

Now this is the one that is her responsibility. My thing is though... No one ever said it wasn't? Least of all Rei herself. Once she saw Shoto again, she immediately apologized. During the event itself, she realized what she did and broke down and tried to fix it. She also spent 10 years in asylum paying for what she did (which is more consequence than Endeavor faced btw).

The thing no one seems to acknowledge about this is that this didn't come from nowhere. She didn't do what she did out of cruelty or hatred towards her son. She did it because Endeavor had abused her to the point of insanity. To the point where even seeing them in her kids' faces caused her to have a complete mental breakdown. Which is understandable due to the physical, verbal, financial, and sexual abuse he was putting her through.

You know, there's an irl story like this. A woman was suffering from severe PPD and other mental issues after having four kids I think it was. Doctors and everyone repeatedly told her husband that she souldn't have more kids. He didn't listen (I'm not sure if SA was involved here but I'm inclined to believe it was) and they continued to have more. Eventually one day she snapped and killed her children.

PPD is seriously dangerous when it's left untreated, even worse when that isn't the only thing going on. Rei was no doubt suffering from the ramifications of that, but on top of everything else Endeavor out her through I can't believe she didn't break earlier.

2. Touya's Situation

It baffles that people find it in themselves to blame Rei but feel sympathy towards Endeavor over Touya.

Because on top of every instance of abuse I mentioned above, Rei was also taking care of four kids completely by herself. That would be hard even without her own and Touya's mental issues.

From the manga panel I provided, she was the only one between her and Endeavor taking Touya's mental well-being seriously. She knew how having more kids would affect him and she was right. She was the one who had to deal with Touya lashing out when Endeavor ignored him (which also contributed to her breaking down and burning Shoto due to Touya emulating Endeavor).

Rei is a character who's been judged so unfairly. Partly because Endeavor fanboys, partly because Dabi/Shoto fangirls, and completely because of the misogyny that runs rampant in this fandom. She deserved so much better.

I have a fic giving Rei the justice she deserves if anyone's interested. It features my OC who happens to be Rei's quirkless younger sister. Give it a read if you want