#refuse to believe this wasn’t a deliberate reference

[lorientours]

Hmmm the temptation to write a WTNV / HFTHW crossover…

I fully believe that nightvale (if we are going w the canon established in a story about huntokar?) would endure in Hello From the Hallowoods world. I mean, they’ve survived one apocalypse, impact would a second have?

Also would Huntokar be considered an indescribable? Shattering a bunch of worlds together just to protect a town full of your fav squishy lil humans definitely sound like Indescribable behavior.

[pinkroseblooms]

Options, Pt.3

Arajin/f!Reader/Marito

Summary: Arajin and Marito grow closer to you over time and start becoming more open about their intentions, but a wrench is thrown into the works when you receive a confession on Valentine's day. wc: 3.7k A/N: warnings for violence, possessive behavior, general toxic behavior, jealousy, crying, angst, Marito being a borderline yandere (honestly it's not hard to see canon him as a potential one). Also the OC is meant to be a reference to Harima Kenji from School Rumble (another lovable delinquent character lol) Enjoy!

As time went on, you, Arajin, and Marito began a comfortable routine; at first you would typically spend time with Arajin, whether at the Chu Chu restaurant, milling around the local shopping center, or studying at the library. Sometimes Marito would show up, usually unannounced, or Arajin would suggest oh so casually if you wouldn’t mind his boyfriend joining the two of you. You couldn’t say the exact time where Marito’s presence was a given; it got to the point where you were so used to him being around, it was more strange for him to not show up. Marito would surprise you sometimes, creeping up on you, saying “boo” or growling under his breath; it escalated to finding yourself regularly trapped in a loose embrace, an arm over your shoulders caging you to his side, or just a hand ruffling your hair just a little too roughly. He was as clingy with you as he was with Arajin now and to his delight, you never shrunk away or gave him any indication you weren’t just as pleased to be in his company as Arajin’s (unless Mahoro was present and glaring daggers; you didn’t want to rattle the tiger’s cage).

Arajin, of course, was becoming bolder and bolder, albeit in his own way. He would hover and fuss whenever he wasn’t latched to Marito; he’d shower you in compliments for the most (at least in your opinion) insignificant things and basically insisted on being at your disposal for any and every inconvenience. Arajin refused to let you carry anything but your own purse, if that, would strip off his top layer the moment you shivered at a slight chill, even offering to blow on your drink if it was too hot to taste without burning the tip of your tongue. At one point while the two of you were walking around, there was a sudden and heavy downpour; Marito and you were fine waiting it out, but Arajin insisted on running over to the nearest convenience store to buy an extra large umbrella for the three of you to walk under, along with a pack of tissues and a hot tea in case you somehow caught cold from being a touch damp. 

Marito never showed any sign of jealousy or irritation at his boyfriend’s doting on you; you weren’t sure what to make of it. From what you heard, Marito, to put it lightly, was not a particularly giving or forgiving person. Yet, he seemed not only apathetic to Arajin’s behavior but amused. 

No, more than that. There was a pattern that you couldn’t unsee when you finally got around to noticing how Marito would behave every time Arajin took more liberties with his indulgence of you: ruffling his hair, whispering things into his ear until he turned into a blushing mess, pulling him in close to blow raspberries on his cheeks, trapping him in bone crushing bear hugs, laughing and smirking all the while. It was as if Marito was praising Arajin, granted usually in a sort of teasing, roughhousing sort of way, for becoming more confident in expressing himself around you.

What’s more, when Marito did this, he would stare at you. Sometimes a brief glance and a wink; other times he would make direct eye contact and not break it until Arajin said something to regain his full attention. Those looks, deliberate and intense, left you with a dry mouth and a rapidly beating heart, not because you were intimidated and you didn’t believe it was Marito’s intention to do so in the first place. You swear, those fervent, almost hypnotizing looks were calling for you to…do something. That’s where you were officially stumped. 

At least, until today. 

“This is for you.”

You take the letter, a little dumbstruck; it was a plain white envelope, sealed with a red, heart shaped sticker. 

“Read it first before you give me your answer. I’ll be at the clubhouse after school, near the spot where that old pond froze over. Will you come?”

You’re gripping the letter lightly in your hands; you’ve only spoken to Harima Kenji a handful of times. He’s one of many Siguma recruits you’ve made small talk with in times you dropped by to visit Marito and Arajin or met them on the way to go somewhere else. Harima is a newbie and you were shocked to learn he was a second year student. With his large build, goatee, and severe looks, you had honestly assumed he had been held back a year or two. The impression you got from the brief interactions you’ve had is that Harima was a lot more sincere and earnest than his rough way of speaking and near constant scowl implied. To think, he would do something so…romantic and on Valentine’s day no less. Had he been waiting to give this letter to you for the occasion? Just the thought made your heart swell a bit, touched at the sentiment. 

“I know this is sudden, but I can’t stop thinking about you. I want you to be my Valentine and...be mine. Even if you can’t accept my feelings, I hope you’ll take some time to consider me.”

“...okay.” You smile shyly. “I’ll come with my answer after school.”

“Thank you!” Harima clenched his fists at his side and bowed his head slightly; he hasn’t smiled once this whole encounter, but his eyes practically shine when you smile and his cheeks flush so bright you can see it under his whiskers. “I’ll be waiting.”

You’re left alone, standing at your shoe cubby, still feeling a bit shocked; perhaps that was why you didn’t notice Arajin. He had dived right back around the corner, sweaty palms clutching a small box of chocolates and a bushel of daisies, as he unwittingly eavesdropped on the exchange.  

“Who confesses with letters these days?”

Marito cocked his head to the side slightly, examining the way Harima struggled to get up; his uniform was half soaked by slush and mud. Arajin was off to the side near the edge of the pond, eyes rimmed red and looking conflicted; he didn’t think Marito would go this far. When he ran off to tell Marito what he had seen, panicked and heart heavy, he thought he would just scare the rookie a bit, get him to back off. Everyone within Siguma was aware who you were and that you were off limits. Besides, Arajin was almost positive you were going to reject Harima anyway; it wouldn’t hurt for Marito to lay down the law and nip the problem in the bud, right?

“Aren’t you just an old-fashioned romantic? A confession by hand written letter, asking her to meet you after school.” Marito waited until he was half standing to send another swift kick to Harima’s wobbling legs. “Kenji-kun, I knew you were kinda stupid, but not this stupid. And as if your blatant disrespect wasn't bad enough, you upset my Ara-teen; another strike against ya.”

“Sh-she accepted my letter.” Harima grunts, doubled over, but face raised to glower up at Marito through swollen eyes. “She coulda thrown it out…turned me down right then if she really wanted to, crazy bastard. You have no right-!”

“Now how are you still able to talk?”

Another kick, this time to the ribs; Harima heaves, spitting up what Marito assumes is whatever he had for lunch earlier. The ground is cold and wet from the half melted snow; it’s slippery and Harima can’t seem to get his footing; frankly, he’s strong, but far outclassed and up against one very pissed off juvenile delinquent. Marito allows some space, watching unimpressed as Harima tries to stand; he had put up a decent enough fight initially, but he’s all power and no stamina from what Marito can see. Finally, Harima collapses on his hands and knees with a curse.

“Eat shit.”

“Hm? Did you say something?” Marito leans down slightly, hand cupped around his ear. “Gotta speak up.”

“Dammit, I give, you crazy fuck.” Harima manages to growl. “She’s coming to see me either way.”

Marito clicks his tongue, shaking his head in faux disapproval. “I guess you weren’t as serious about her as you claimed to be. All it took was a little roughing up and a couple shattered ribs. Where’s the passion?”

Arajin steps forward, eyes wide and unable to keep the tremor from his voice. “Marito, maybe that’s enough? You didn’t need to-”

“Arajin, if you can’t stomach it, you can wait for me inside.” Marito smiles blithely over his shoulder. “Aw, don’t worry, I ain’t going to kill him. I won’t even kick him out of Siguma, not yet anyway. I still have a use for him.”

“But, he's hurt really bad. This is way too much.”

“Isn't this what you wanted?”

“I never told you to beat anyone up!” 

“C'mon, you had to know what would happen once you blew the whistle.” Marito grins without a trace of mirth. “Just a while ago you were bawlin’ your eyes out to me about losing your chance with her, after all these years, after finally getting some nerve to start making moves. Ara-teen, we're so close to making her ours. We need to put this loser in his place and make an example of him.”

Harima groans; he’s trying to get up. Marito’s smile falls; he moves forward to grab Harima by the hair and slams his face straight down into the cold mud. Arajin’s stomach churns at an audible, sickening crunch and Harima’s sharp scream of pain.

“Whoops, looks like you broke your nose.” Marito’s nails dig into Harima’s scalp, holding him down, easily ignoring the hands grabbing and scratching at his wrist. “Go on lover boy, make your confession! Fuck, you're pathetic.” 

Marito yanks Harima’s head up so the other boy can get one desperate gulp of air, before grabbing his face with both his hands. Blood gushes from Harima’s nostrils to mix with the mud and snot as his face makes contact with Marito’s knee. As he recoils, Harima’s mouth opens and Marito cackles, seeing a gap in his teeth; it’s probably buried in the mud now.

“Marito!” Arajin rushes over, finally gaining feeling in his stiff legs; he kneels down and tries to pull back Marito’s arm, but he hardly budges. He’s honestly terrified of Marito right now, but he feels more guilty.

Marito was right; Arajin knew that something like this at the very least could happen. He hoped. He wanted Marito to throw his weight around and put a stop to Harima’s pursuit of you because in his heart, Arajin didn’t know if you would accept his feelings. Arajin didn’t know for sure and he wasn’t willing to cross that line but he didn’t want you to leave him behind either, be with someone else. 

You looked so flattered, glowing from Harima’s request. It scared him. It made him want to throw up and so he ran away, candy and crushed flowers in hand, because Arajin couldn’t bring himself to approach you the same way. He was more willing to let someone get the shit kicked out of them to have a better shot at you. Arajin has never felt more sick with himself. 

“Dammit you have to stop!” Arajin pleads, grabbing at Marito, using what strength he had to try and pry him away. “Enough is enough!”

“This isn’t close to enough. I can’t believe you thought…what did you think? I’d just hand her over? To you?” Marito stares at his subordinate's bloodied and bruised face with utter disgust. “It’s an insult is what it is: this weak bitch…fuck, you really thought you would get away with it, didn’t ya? That you could make a move on our girl?!”

Arajin is shoved away unceremoniously, sent back skidding in the snow; Marito isn’t smiling anymore. His breathing is as labored as Harima’s as he begins stomping anywhere he can reach. Harima is all but unconscious as his body is kicked over and over, in quick, brutal succession. 

Marito scraps the sole of his boot against Harima’s face like he’s trying to get the mud off and it earns him a pained moan and now there’s blood mixed with the mud. Marito can hardly stand to look down on him: Harima is nobody, an NPC, a nameless red shirt. He couldn't take a few well placed punches at half of Marito’s strength. The very suggestion that you had accepted Harima’s corny bullshit love letter with a smile almost made Marito angry with you. How could you even entertain it? Why should anyone else even matter to you, let alone someone so beneath him?

“Get up." Marito demands, digging his heel into Harima’s neck. “You limp dicked, shit-for-brains loser, get the fuck up! If you even think about looking at her again, and I’ll-”

“Marito!”

Marito turns to send a nasty glare Arajin’s way, but it’s not him who’s running at breakneck speed to Harima’s side. You slip in the mud a little short of where Harima’s head is resting on the cold ground, but you crawl the rest of the way. A look of abject horror changes your features in a way Marito has never seen.

“Harima? Harima, are you okay?” You frantically try to push away Marito’s leg. “Stop it, what are you doing to him?!”

“You need it spelled out?” Marito taps Harima’s temple with the tip of his boot before moving back a step; he’s smiling now, grinning down at you, blood and mud splattered over his clothes. “Don’t worry, kitten. He won’t ever bother you again. No need to give him an ‘answer’; I made sure Kenji-kun got the message loud and clear.”

You silently reach into your skirt pocket and take out a handkerchief.

"Gross." Marito makes a gagging noise as you begin gently wiping Harima’s swollen face. He’s able to open one eye, watching as you clean off as much as you can with the scrap of cloth.

“Harima? Don’t fall asleep; do you think you have a concussion?” 

“You came.” Harima turns his head slightly as a tear runs down his cheek; he can barely speak with his split, swollen lip. “I’m sorry. Just go: I don’t want you to see me this way.”

“Harima,”

“Ugh, knock it off, crybaby; I barely hit you.” Marito rolls his eyes in disdain as you help Harima rise to a sitting position. “Really milking it for those sympathy points, huh?”

Harima rests his head on your shoulder, breaths shallow but steady. You won’t even look at Marito.

“Is this the “Siguma pride’ you told me about? Threatening your members? And for what?” You ask quietly. “I’m not a prize to be won.”

“He’s a loser.”

“This isn’t a game.” You snap, your cold stare wilting when Arajin catches your eyes. “Is this what you do now? You don’t fight anymore, but you’re okay letting someone else do it for you. You can’t work up the nerve to be honest with me about your feelings but I guess you can stomach this just fine?”

“No.” Arajin denies; his guts feel like they’re being twisted. “I didn’t want this.”

“I don’t want to hear your excuses. I can’t even look at you right now.” You tell him. “I can’t believe-I thought we were friends, I thought-”

“You belong to us.” Marito states calmly. “Everyone else knows but this idiot, apparently.”

“I’m not a thing you can put a claim on!”

“I did,” Marito replies. “And I am. I won’t let anyone else have you.”

You shake your head, as if in disbelief; Marito bends down, reaching for your arm to haul you up. Before Marito can lay a finger on you, Harima slaps his hand away. 

“Leave her alone.” Harima wheezes; he’s rolled over slightly in front of you, as if to shield you from the offending touch. “I’m sorry. This happened because I wasn’t strong enough.”

“Nah it's ‘cause you’re a fuckin’ loser.” Marito jeers, sticking his tongue out at Harima’s scowl. “Now, kitten, don’t make me be rough with you; Ara-teen and I just wanna have a chat to clear up things.”

“We do, really.” Arajin puts a hand over Marito’s. “Please, we’re sorry.”

“Huh? I ain’t fucking sorry.”

“Seriously?!” Arajin looks at him, silently begging Marito to stop being combative; he looks at you so guiltily, so regretfully, you almost feel swayed by his words. “We are your friends. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way, but it's the truth.” he professes. "We like you."

“So, what do you say, kitten?” Marito adds with an uncontrollable grin.  “You’re gonna be ours, right?”

“Don’t speak to her that way, scum!” Harima sits up, puts a hand on your shoulder, trying to stand up once more. “She doesn’t want to go anywhere with you and your toadie boyfriend.”

Any trace of humor disappears from Marito’s smile. “You just don’t know when to shut up; all this for a stupid shitty letter-”

“You’re wrong.” You put a hand comfortingly on Harima’s shoulder, ushering him to calm down. “That letter was so sweet and thoughtful. I think it takes a lot of courage to be so honest about how you feel.” 

“Okay, enough is enough.” Marito sighs heavily and moves to reach for you again. “Come on, get up. We should be discussing this privately-”

This time it’s not Harima’s large hand that smacks Marito’s away; you’re finally looking at him. Tears well up in your eyes. Marito recoils as if your slap hurt; he’s looking at you, almost dumbstruck. He’s never seen you so much as raise your hand to swat a bug.

“No.” You can’t stop the tears from coming; your hand is still raised, poised as if to slap Marito again should he try to come near you. “I don’t want to go anywhere with you.”

Arajin tries to go to you, but stops short; he stands, helpless, as you cry into your hands. You’re crying and it’s partially his fault, yet Arajin can’t even bring himself to go to you. 

“Hey.” Marito’s hand drops to his side; his crooked smile wanes, gaze searching your face, as if he can’t process what he's seeing. “Hey, why are you looking at me like that? I’m not gonna hurt you.”

Arajin doesn’t know when you stopped crying; an hour later he’s with Marito back at the Siguma clubhouse. You left, half supporting Harima, as he limped towards the nurses office, insisting he could patch himself up and a hospital wasn’t necessary. 

Marito hasn’t spoken a word; when you all but ran off, he trudged the opposite direction, looking forward, motions stiff, almost robotic. When they returned to the clubhouse, the building feeling strangely empty and cold despite having a heating system running, Marito pulled Arajin to the hammock. Arajin didn’t argue or make any smart remarks; he let himself be tugged along. Currently he’s slotted between Marito’s legs, half lying on his chest. Marito is staring up at the ceiling, barely blinking; he looks half asleep, half awake. Arajin can’t tell if he’s angry or not but he doesn’t feel like asking. He feels like shit. 

“I screwed it all up, huh?”

Marito has one arm underneath his shoulders; his fingers clutch onto Arajin’s arm. After a beat of silence, Marito has him locked into a tight embrace; Arajin’s face is tucked away into the crook of his neck. From this position, he can’t see what kind of expression Marito is making.

“It was going so well, but then that asshole came outta nowhere, I thought we were gonna lose her, it felt like we were suddenly running out of time. I didn’t even think she’d actually say yes to him. Shit, I don’t know, I freaked, I was-”

Arajin doesn’t need Marito to finish; he knows exactly what he wants to say because it’s the same reason he himself had run away. Again. 

“It’s not your fault.”

“Don’t bullshit me.”

“I mean, it’s my fault too.” Arajin closes his eyes tight. “I should have told her a long time ago.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Do you have to ask? I’m a selfish coward.”

“Yeah, but I kinda like that about you.” Marito lets out a half chuckle. “Did you think you were too weak for her?”

“Sort of. Can we not get into that now?” 

“When then?”

“When?”

“We’re going to get her back, aren’t we?” Marito sounds annoyed. “We give her a little time to calm down and try to talk to her.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“You’re gonna have to see her again; she works for your mom.”

“I guess she’ll be avoiding me from now on.”

“What about me?” 

“What do you mean?”

“It’ll be easier to avoid me. Ya know, she’s probably with him now. If I go after him, she’s just gonna hate me more, but-I’ve never felt this before.”

“Pissed?”

“I want her here and she’s not.” Marito swallows hard; there’s no levity in his tone. “She didn’t even ask if I was okay.”

“Are you okay?” 

Arajin realizes this might have been the first time he’s asked Marito that question; not to mention, this might actually be the first time Marito hasn’t gotten something he wanted, something he couldn’t get with threats and intimidation.

“I got hurt too, you saw. He got me on the face even.” 

Arajin doesn’t point out to Marito that the injury he’s referring to is the most minor of bruises on his jaw.

“She didn’t even care. She didn’t even notice.” 

“I could…” Arajin sighs. “Kiss it better.”

Marito moves so he can stare him down with the most lost puppy dog eyes Arajin has ever seen on maybe the most terrifying person he’s ever met. Arajin leans over, pressing a soft, but lingering kiss to the small welt. Marito whines, arms wrapping around him tighter.

“Ara-teen, you gotta talk to her. Tell her I didn’t mean any of it, I just got carried away.”

“Weren’t you the one telling me to be more forward?” A slight smile comes to Arajin’s face for the first time in hours. “Tell her yourself.”

“She’s just gonna run away.” Marito slumps with a pout. “Tell her I’m…”

“Sorry?”

“Yeah, that.”

“Okay, that’s really something you’re going to have to tell her yourself, even I know that.”

“But she won’t talk to me! You saw how she looked at me…” Marito bites his wobbling lower lip, teeth almost scraping against his snake bite spikes. “I scared our kitten away. I messed everything up.”

“We both messed up.” Arajin lets Marito bury his face into his shoulder. “I guess we deserve each other…”

[cienie-isengardu]

Hello, may I bother you for a bit?

This is something regarding Lord Liu Kang. At the beginning of the story mode, he's narrating that he gave everyone free will but later in the story mode, Geras says that Liu Kang forged everyone's destinies and that Shang Tsung and Quan Chi were defying theirs.

Which means that Shang Tsung was destined to live in poverty, Quan Chi was destined to grueling work in the mines and Shao was born sickly child if it weren't for his father's program that shaped him into the warrior he is now.

Which leads me to believe he is deliberately punishing them for things they did not do, all because of the memories of his mortal life.

In one of the intros between Shang Tsung and Geras, it is implied that Shang Tsung also had a horrible childhood.

What do you think?

Hello there and you do not bother me at all!

The destiny vs free will is one of the universal questions that humanity has tried to solve for ages and the answer for sure will vary from one person to another, always colored by religion (or lack of therefor) and culture each of us is part of. However, within Liu Kang’s timeline, I strongly believe destiny and free will aren’t mutually exclusive, because both terms refer to different aspects of a mortal's life.

When Liu Kang says he crafted for each person's destiny, it does not mean there is one and only one script to how things and people’s reaction will play out while he is gonna pretend to be surprised by the turn of events and having fun in the middle of a crisis invented out of boredom eons ago. 

What Liu Kang decided for each character is the setting that no one has choice over and designed role to play - Raiden is destined to be current Earthrealm Champion; Bi-Han, Kuai Liang and Tomas are destined to be Lin Kuei; Mileena is destined to rule Edenia; Shao is destined to serve loyalty to Queen Sindel; Shang Tsung is destined to not have any power whatsoever. None of them must like the circumstances they were born into nor the role bestowed upon them or faced adversity on the way, however how they will use the given time and live their life is greatly up to them. 

Raiden accepted Liu Kang’s training and worked hard to earn the right to represent Earthrealm in the Tournament - if he didn’t dedicate himself to the task, Kung Lao, Johnny or Kenshi would take his place. Bi-Han was trained from childhood to protect Earthrealm but he ultimately rejected the traditional role of Lin Kuei and chose to be loyal only to his clan instead to Fire Lord and the realm. In contrast, Kuai Liang decided to honor father’s teaching and aided Liu Kang, even if that meant going against his own brother - as Geras said, the brothers weren’t destined to be enemies yet both make their own choices that from now on will define their relationship. Tomas was forced by circumstances (Keeper of Time’s choice) into Lin Kuei and raised alongside Sub-Zero and Scorpion by their father, however as his BIO states, “Smoke chose to make the Lin Kuei’s mission his own. But as he lacked his brothers' innate supernatural abilities, he set out to master practical magic. Having done so, he now joins them in Earthrealm's defense” and this implies he wasn’t forced to master smoke powers by his adoptive family and that he was not necessarily considered as a material for Lin Kuei warrior but he made a conscious choice to learn magic so he could join his brothers in their duties. 

Shao and Shang Tsung jumped on occasion to rise in power for their own gain but no one physically forced them to betray the Royal Family or to inflict cruelty on others. According to Liu Kang’s design, they weren’t meant to have the opportunity to take over Edenia and still they could refuse to aid Damashi’s plot when the offer was made to them or at any given time after that. Shang Tsung managed to create a serum that does not heal Tarkatan sickness yet allows to control the unwanted symptoms, thus giving a sick person a chance for more or less normal life. He could share that with sick people or work with other imperial mages to find cure - and go into edenian history as a great hero and savior - but he chose not to, because his own plans were more important to him, than the well-being of other people. 

As a first-born, Mileena inherited the throne after mother’s death yet she still has an option to abdicate if she doesn’t like the burden bestowed on her by fate. 

What Liu Kang chose for each character is not set in stone and can be altered by people’s personal choices, for good or bad. Of course, that does not mean he has never interfere with mortal’s life to steer said person on the path he planed, as it is the best seen with Kung Lao and Raiden unknowingly prepared by Madam Bo for their role of Earthrealm Champions and Shang Tsung’s destiny to have as mediocre life as possible. So yes, Liu Kang is not above his personal favoritism and bias and I suspect it is the result of him being mortal turned into god, not the other way around. He definitely threw some serious obstacles on characters’ path, like sickness for child Shao (though did he plan to keep Shao unfit to be warrior and the outcome was changed by Shao’s father refusing to accept son’s sickness/disability or did Shao was born as sick child so the father could teach him discipline and raise him with an iron fist to become a loyal soldier is up to debate) or death of family for Tomas. However some of the hardship characters faced may as well come from their ancestors' choices alone, be it the dark history of Kenshi’s family that joined the Bakuto, a predecessor of the Yakuza for protection or Nitara’s people slowly starving because of their foolish choices (“The Vaeternians thrived, building a great society. But as their comfort grew, so did their shortsightedness. They overfed on Vaeternus’ creatures, disrupting the natural order. They now starve as it collapses.”, Nitara’s BIO)

In all fairness, the line between Liu Kang’s chosen destiny for characters and choices of mortals affecting the outcome may be pretty thin and in result, not so clear to us. Shang Tsung is the best example of this, because story mode alone gives the impression the man was born into poverty and neglect - he is on his own, using deception to survive in harsh outworld wilderness. Him being so miserable and angry makes sense to jump on the first occasion for anything better than what he has; to cling to the one person offering him not only power but also kindness, a praise for any progress made, be it the progress in the realization of plan or Shang Tsung’s own skills and knowledge.

Yet his official BIO

Shang Tsung grew up in Outworld’s backwaters. Too lazy for hard labor and too shifty for honest work, he eked out a living selling quack cures and fake magic. Though his wares were useless, Shang Tsung’s easy charm always closed the deal. Shang Tsung was resigned to this hardscrabble life. But then one day a mysterious stranger came, promising to make Shang Tsung a powerful sorcerer. Though suspicious of the offer, it was one he couldn’t refuse.

 and intro dialogues 

Shang Tsung: We're both small-town boys at heart. Raiden: Then why is yours so infected with evil? 

or

Shang Tsung: The squalor I endured as a child- Geras: Do not lie. I know the truth.

contradict the idea he was destined to live in poverty or even born in an abusive environment solely because of Liu Kang’s spite. The Bio alone put a blame on Shang Tsung’s own laziness and reluctance to do honest work, Geras calls his claim of bad childhood a lie and for all we know, there were plenty of opportunities for Shang Tsung to take and live his life in peace he turned down for whatever petty reason. The source material is so weirdly contradicting that I still don’t have an idea who we should trust on that one and how much it is Liu Kang’s fault and how much Shang Tsung’s own. 

(I’m gonna hold my judgment for the Quan Chi’s backstory until NRS will release further official material. Working in mines was always a hard job, however it is not clear to me if he was there by force - as enslavement or penalty? - or was he just born in a rural town where everyone worked as miners and he did what his family and/or all townsfolk did for generations.)

Geras saying Shang Tsung and Quan Chi defy their destinies may simply mean they got hold of power they should not have according to Liu Kang’s original plan. At the same time, Liu Kang specifically said to Sindel that Shang Tsung, Quan Chi and General Shao were groomed to be evil again by powers outside his control, so again, the chosen destinies for those three weren’t set in stone, as Liu Kang’s design could be - and was - altered.

For now, until proven otherwise, I will trust Liu Kang’s words that all characters indeed have free will and their choices matters, as supported by intro dialogues

Sindel: Until your revelation, I felt in control of my destiny. Liu Kang: You still are, Your Highness. 

or

Ashrah: I must know, Geras. Is my future set? Geras: There is no fate but what you make. 

or

Geras: Any advice for when I control the Hourglass? Liu Kang: Let all people be masters of their fate. 

but also for the fact alone that Liu Kang did not use his Titan powers to rewind time and alter the last events for his liking, as in making sure bored Titan Shang Tsung did not corrupt his alternative self and the rest of bunch, like Kronika did countless time before.

We will see how future tie-in material will challenge my outlook at this issue, but for now I'm gonna think that Liu Kang's planed destiny and characters' free will to what do with given time co-exist.

[gamebunny-advance]

Thinking... (Scrapped)

As much as I like to ship them as bitter exes, I’ve always taken note of how NSR seems to deliberately go out of its way to deny that Kliff’s feelings for Tatiana are romantic in nature. Romantic language is never used between the two and even when Kliff gushes about her, it’s all about her aesthetics: her clothes, her attitude, her music. So with that in mind, what exactly was Kul Fyra to Kliff? What does she represent to him that would drive him to be so crushed and vindictive after they split?

The easy answer is that “he’s just like that”, but I refuse to believe that in a story where even the most shallow of NPCs has some depth to them, that Kliff, the primary antagonist of the story, is the only one that’s so one dimensional. The narrative has already ruled out romance as a motivation, and it’s dubious that they were even friends at any point. It could be that he always saw her as a symbol for his ideals, but he does seem to take it personally that she “went EDM,” and he ultimately says that what matters to him wasn’t the music itself, but Kul Fyra the person. It could be that he’s just trying to get sympathy points by exaggerating, but I think that reading would be inconsistent with how Kliff had been portrayed so far. Kliff lies by omission, not by distortion. The instances where Kliff is untrustworthy is by him not giving all the details:

He doesn’t tell B2J that he knows that Tatiana was Kul Fyra.

He doesn’t hide that he wants B2J to takeover Vinyl City, but he never mentions/considers the negative consequences of them doing so.

There are only 2 instances in which he lies by distortion, and both of them might not even count.

Mayday mentions that his photo doesn’t seem to match with who they meet, but since we never saw this photo, we don’t know in what ways it was different. It doesn’t make sense for it to have been a “catfish” since they met in person almost immediately afterwards, so it’s more likely that the photo refers to a profile picture, and the picture just didn’t reflect what kind of person Kliff was IRL, like a cute animal pic or something.

When B2J are trying to free the districts, he does lie about the bots being not dangerous and encourages them to get closer to their attacks by saying that they’re helpful, but this is in a high-stress situation after all his good will between them was destroyed, so this is arguably out of character.

Even if you want to discredit that Kliff is being sincere in his confrontation with Tatiana, Tatiana does not call him out for lying, so it can be implied then that what he says is true. To counter, it’s possible that she’s just not interested in deconstructing his claims and just cuts straight to the heart of the problem, but she does give that time to Mayday. With that in mind, I feel like it would be reasonable to assume that if there was something to deconstruct, she would have done so in this instance too. Therefore, I think it’s safe to assume that Kliff’s claims can be taken at face value.

I feel like Kliff and Tatiana’s conflict is somewhat supposed to mirror Mayday and Zuke’s conflict, or rather how they resolve it. If you do the Pirate Radio interviews, they reveal that regardless of your personal choices, Mayday will wind up breaking Zuke’s NSR branded drumsticks in protest. Mayday will always feel somewhat guilty about this after the fact and Zuke will forgive her, and they work out their differences on the subject, ultimately proving that despite conflicts, they’re best friends

It partially feeds into my theory that NSR is about different kinds of love, and that Kliff, Tatiana, and Mayday’s love conflict is based around fandom.

[simizzy-writes]

take as directed

𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕚𝕥 𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕤𝕠 𝕚𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕖. 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕡𝕦𝕝𝕝 𝕞𝕖 '𝕥𝕚𝕝 𝕀'𝕞 𝕠𝕓𝕤𝕖𝕤𝕤𝕖𝕕.

Pairing: Trafalgar D. Water Law x f!Reader

Warnings: 18+. smut. language. medfet. masturbation.

pic is my edit. 

“You know, one of these days you’re going to actually get sick, and I won’t feel very inclined to believe you - or treat you.”

“That seems a little sadistic for a doctor, Law. Then again, you’re called the ‘Surgeon of Death’, so I suppose it fits.”

He scoffed at your grin, clearly unamused. Spinning around in his chair, he reached for his pristine, white exam gloves. He stretched them over his hands, fingers flexing to fill them in. To add flourish, he snapped the gloves against his wrist. You liked it when he did that, but whether he did it because you liked it, or it was just a habit, you weren’t sure. Law probably wouldn’t tell you if you asked, either. 

Moving to stand, he fixed his gaze on you. “And what exactly seems to be the problem this time?”

You shrugged, swinging your dangling feet from the examination bed back and forth. “Can’t quite put a finger on it, doc. I mean, I have this ache but I don’t know how to get rid of it.”

“Have you tried being less of a brat? Might help.”

You nudged his leg with your foot in indignation. “Hey! Play along, Law,” you whined. “That’s not a very professional thing to say.”

“You come into my office with the expectation that I’m going to fuck you, and you want me to be professional?” Law taunted. “Maybe I should just refer you to a different physician.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

Of course he wouldn’t. No, Law enjoyed this too much. This game that you played with him was too deliciously sinful for him to refuse. It was taboo, sure, but that was part of the thrill. Doctors shouldn’t be attracted to their patients - and they especially shouldn’t fuck them.

“Describe your symptoms.”

Humming thoughtfully, you leaned back onto your palms. “Well, I start feeling hot, and then I start feeling excited. It feels good, but then it starts to get overwhelming. Like I need to do something about it.”

“Where is this ‘ache’ located? Show me.”

Law didn’t really need to be shown what you were talking about, but he enjoyed watching you strip for him too much to skip this part. You would deliberately entice him, removing articles of clothing slowly, bending over for him as you wiggled your pants and panties down your legs. His favorite part about you getting naked were the little ‘mistakes’ along the way. Sometimes the clasp on your bra would get stuck, so you would blush in embarrassment as you tried to get it undone. Or the way you would lose your balance as you stepped out of the pile of clothes at your feet and stumbled into him. You would giggle and attach yourself to him in a hug and a kiss, perhaps in a way to cover up your embarrassment, but he didn’t care about the ‘mistakes’. It was endearing and sweet to him, and he loved it. You were you, and nothing was more delightful to him than that. In a passing thought as his hands reached out to caress your naked body, Law wondered if he was good enough for you. But he closed the door on that intrusive thought, and switched his mind to the role-play at hand. 

Law’s exam room was chilly, and your nipples hardened against the cool air. Chasing off a shiver, you situated yourself back onto the exam bed. You leaned back against the angled bed, legs spread in front of your captain. From what he could tell, you had been aroused for a while before coming to him about this ‘mystery ache’ that needed urgent attention. Your labia was beautifully flushed and glistening from the leaking wetness of your vagina. He could see your clitoris, slightly swollen from arousal, peak out from under its hood. Memories of your tight pussy milking his cock as his fucked you played in his mind. The phantom taste of your sweet pussy made his mouth water. As deeply as he wanted to dive into you, it wasn’t part of the fantasy. Not this time. 

“Right here,” you mewled pathetically as you wiggled your hips at him. Your fingers spread your labia apart, showing him every part of your sex. “I don’t know what to do to get rid of it.”

His gray eyes fixated on your pussy. It was hard to resist the growing erection pressing against his pants at the sight of it. He reached out, his thumbs on each hand pressing against your labia and spreading it further apart for you. The entrance of your pussy tightened, and the small whimper you let escape your lips made his cock twitch. Law knew it excited you to have yourself exposed to him like this - completely vulnerable. It also made you quite shy, ironically, although he couldn’t tell if it was genuine or part of the play. Nonetheless, he enjoyed watching your meek attempts to cover yourself as he examined you thoroughly.

With two fingers, Law inserted them into your pussy. The palm of his other hand pressed down on your lower abdomen where he knew your uterus was situated. This may have been a mutual medical fetish, but he was still a doctor, and he still checked for anything abnormal. He was familiar enough with your insides to notice a change, to say the least. 

“Tell me when this ache starts,” he said. Gray eyes still fixated on your pussy, he watched as his gloved fingers fucked your wet hole slowly. Law curled them, pressing them in the spongy spot that made your toes curl. The thumb on his opposite hand stroked your clit, dipping into your pussy to gather more of your slick when it was starting to drag uncomfortably. You were taking a while to answer - probably distracted by the way he was scissoring your cunt, if he had to guess. That was so like you, so easily distracted. Pushing the hood back on your sensitive clit, he withdrew his fingers from your pussy just long enough to flick your sensitive little bud. “Focus.”

The little yelp that sprung from your lips was so cute. Your legs flinched at the brief moment of pain he gave you and tried to close on instinct. Not that you were successful - Law’s arms bent, elbows pressing into your thighs to keep them open. Wet, gloved fingers went back to working your pussy and he reminded you to tell him when this pathetic ache started.

“I-It starts when I think about you,” you said. Your quivering lips looked so delicious, and he was tempted to take them between his teeth in a passionate kiss. Instead, he added a third finger to your tight, juicy cunt. 

“Yeah? What about me?”

The wet squelch of your pussy getting finger-fucked made your mouth water. Being the ever so good patient for your doctor, you opened your legs further for him, hips rolling against his palm. “You’re so hot, I can’t help but think about you. I-I - “

You stopped short as Law worked a long, lewd moan from you by adding a fourth finger, pressing deep into you. He smirked a little in pride at how you were able to take him down to the knuckles. Maybe one day he’d be able to fit his fist in you. That was an interesting thought. 

“Keep going,” he instructed.

“I-I think about you kissing me and touching me,” you purred. Your cheeks were so rosy and sweet. God, he would never admit it, but he was a such a fucking sucker for cute things. You looked so good and cute when you talked about how much you wanted him. “I want to fuck you all of the time, L-Law.”

“That’s pretty naughty, don’t you think? You shouldn’t be fantasizing about fucking your doctor.” His smirk was devilish and proud. Bottoming out his fingers into your pussy one last time, he yanked them from your pussy. You whined pitifully, but yelped again when he flicked your clit once again. It amused him to see you flinch like that, but still keep your pussy exposed to him for more. “What do you do to alleviate this problem?”

Your body was warm and flushed with excitement. Your curious eyes followed him as he removed his gloves, the black ink of his tattoos contrasting against his tanned skin. Your pussy tightened, the sensation of his ministrations lingering inside of you as you watched those hands of his. “I touch myself, doctor.” Biting your lip to mask a smile of pleasure, you couldn’t help but feel amusement at the way his eyes closed in pleasure at the way you called him ‘doctor’. 

“Masturbation, huh? Sounds like you’re just horny more than anything else.” Law took a seat in front of your spread open cunt. With amusement, he instructed you to show him how you masturbate. “Show me. Show me how you fuck yourself.”

This was a first, and for a moment you felt genuine embarrassment. “I…I-I’ve never done that before. With someone watching, I mean.”

Fuck, his dick hurt. It twitched and throbbed against his pants, and he had to adjust to alleviate the pressure. This was a new suggestion on his part, as he usually just fucked you as a mock-prescription with whatever fake ailment you bounced into his office with. Not this time. Maybe it was just another fetish of his, but Law was curious to watch you masturbate. The slight power-play behind him instructing  you to do so got him off, too.

He called your name and his eyes darkened at the way just saying your name made your pussy quiver. “It’s possible you’re not receiving adequate satisfaction on your own. There’s only one way to know, so show me.”

You nodded slowly, bashfully. Doing your best to relax, you let your eyes flutter shut as your hand moved to your pussy. Fantasies played in your mind of you and Law. All of the positions he’s fucked you in, all of the ones you’ve yet to do… The way he looked at you, the way your name tasted on his tongue. It was all sublime imagery and it ignited your desire once more. Your fingers worked your pussy in the practiced way you were used to. Slowly, you became so lost in your pleasure that it was like Law wasn’t there. But Law wasn’t a forgettable man, and the sensation of his hands on your skin again made you mewl in bliss. With great effort, you opened your glossy eyes and looked at Law. 

The palms of his hands mapped out your thighs and hips, eyes fixated on your pussy with reverence. He watched the way you worked your pussy with fascination. Admittedly, he hadn’t taken the time to just watch this kind of thing before. It was his turn to feel an ache, but this was painfully real. Law’s cock strained against his clothing. Precum was undoubtedly leaking from his pulsing member. It needed to be in your pussy. It demanded it. Soon, he thought. Soon. 

“Law,” you mewled, fingers hastening their pace. You craved him so pathetically it drove you wild. His gaze never broke away from your pussy, and you dipped your fingers into your pussy a little deeper, scissoring them as you pulled them out. It spread you open so that he could see your wet hole, and he groaned in pleasure. Law’s thumbs reached out again to keep it spread open. 

“Such a good pussy,” he murmured more to himself than to you, but his praise still pleased you. 

“ ‘m close,” you whined. “I wanna cum -”

“So cum,” Law said. “Show the good doctor what a slut you are for him.”

God, what a filthy and taboo thing to say. The nerves in your body lit up in arousal, shivers rippling from head to toe in you. You couldn’t draw it out anymore, so you doubled down and worked your pussy in just the right way to make yourself cum. Pleasure blossomed and spread to your fingertips. You called out his name, eyes closed in bliss. Your pussy fluttered and pulsed as you rode out your orgasm. Sinful nectar leaked from your wet sex, dripping down your ass and onto the exam table.

It took everything he had to not lick it up. 

Law couldn’t wait anymore, so while you were floating on post-orgasm clouds, he stood and unzipped his pants. Rolling his shoulders in relief, he let his cock bounce free from its restraints. It pulsed, throbbed and swelled in excitement. So, so close to being buried in your pussy again, it couldn’t wait. Law couldn’t wait anymore. 

Lining his cock up at your soaking wet hole, he dragged the swollen head of his cock up and down your pussy. You mewled and gasped from the sensation. Your pussy was so sensitive now,  and yet you still couldn’t wait for his cock to be buried balls deep in you. Your mouth watered at the sight of his thick cock, your eyes going hazy with lust. The smirk on his lips couldn’t be helped as you wiggled your hips in anticipation.

“Seems rather simple to me,” Law said. “The problem, I mean. You need a little extra satisfaction fucked into you. Let’s get your treatment plan started, yeah?”

a tip, if you feel so inclined. thank you for reading 💕

[evita-shelby]

Could I request a Tommy fic where Tommy is in an arranged marriage with a woman is a widow, and he thought she would be the one to get attached, but he is the one who falls in love with her, and she is still in love her ex husband, and like ANGST, but happy ending? No pressure to write this, lol.

Hope

Notes: I'm going with the theory that Charlie isn't actually Tommy's kid in this fic

Gif by @peakyblindersfan

He had no delusions when he married her.

She needed to secure her future after her husband died and his family swooped in like vultures after the shipping company Y/N and her husband had built, he needed a mother for Charlie and woman in his life.

It wasn’t love; it was just a balm for their mutual loneliness.

But then things changed.

A family of three became a family of five, Diane and Gabriel were born. Twin children as perfect as children could be.

They took after him, Gabriel especially, making it more obvious that Charlie hadn’t been his son like he and Grace had initially believed.

But he loved all three of his children and as far as anyone knew, Charlie was the doting big brother to his two-year-old siblings.

It had been in that time that Tommy began to heal. From the War, from Grace’s death.

Parenting turned to friendship and friendship turned to love.

He no longer wished to drug himself and speak to the ghost of the woman he had loved, in fact the morning Di and Gabe were born he threw out the tablets, the laundum and the opium away.

His children needed a father, not a pathetic shell of a man who couldn’t face loss as bravely as his wife had.

Before he knew it, he was fighting with himself to keep his love for her a secret.

After much deliberation, many conversations with himself, with Polly, with Lizzie and eventually with Frances, he realized that he can’t keep it bottled up inside anymore.

There was only one problem, Thomas was in love with her, and she was in love with her dead husband.

Two children with him and still she was writing letters to her late spouse, cleaning his grave and leaving flowers on important dates.

It made him irrationally jealous and he wondered if that was what Lizzie and May had felt when he refused to let himself heal and move on.

“Its my turn to watch them tonight, Y/N.” he whispered, and let himself press a soft kiss on her hair.

“No, let me help you, Tommy. Both are being terrors these days.” His wife said getting up after him. “Even forgot to leave flowers on my late husband’s grave yesterday.”

She’s never said late when referring to her deceased spouse. Always, my husband, or Mr. L/N, never referred to as a man no longer here.

So there is hope for them after all, he finds himself thinking as the two of them quietly walk into the nursery.

[tamelee]

Do you think sarada was a test tube baby or was her conception just shady? Sasuke and especially Sakura's behaviour make them look so weirdly guilty

There is no answer to that I believe?

I think Kishimoto used Gaiden as a last attempt stab at ‘Boruto’ with more questions than they can answer that they’re now trying to “fix”.. hence the shitload of marketing attempts. 

I think she is the result of “things not always going as planned” during that time skip without Naruto. 

What fueled Sasuke during the time skip anyway? Who wasn't there?

I noticed something else about Sasuke.

Sarada screams the word “papa” idk how many times, but Sasuke has only referred to her as ‘his child’ once at Orochimaru’s hideout. Any other time he includes Chocho and says “the kids.” 

Same with Sakura. He never refers to Sakura or uses her name, (or show concern when she gets taken away by the enemy for that matter.. although neither does Naruto)- however he calls her his “wife”, right? I dunno about you, but I noticed he did this twice.. and ONLY to Orochimaru and ONLY when necessary. Think about that one, because I’m telling you that’s deliberate. Why wouldn’t he use their names around him specifically and why did Kishimoto choose to let Sakura and Sarada spout “papa” and “husband” over and over again while Sasuke avoids it? Food for thought.   

Sarada questions about the relationship between her parents are never answered despite the “happy ending”. (Not fully anyway.)

The story will do everything in its power to raise suspicion and make you believe that Sarada might be one of those ‘Uchiha Shin’ clone children or perhaps a clone related to Sasuke with his genes made by Orochimaru in a ‘this is WAY too obvious, so of course in the end she wouldn’t be’-manner. Which is interesting, because in that so-called “happy ending” too many details are left unsolved.

Whatever you suspect, in the end it was all a misunderstanding.

So.. case closed. We went full circle, all is good. 

Except, I’m still not convinced completely. 

And Kishimoto is very careful in that regard. For example when Naruto talks to Sarada he makes sure to mention Sarada’s connection to “her mother and her father”, but not mention anything about the connection between Sasuke and Sakura. When he starts to console Sarada he speaks very highly of Sasuke, but he never mentioned Sakura.. at all. (Good qualities.)

Then we have Shizune. 

We know there is nothing about Sarada’s birth documented in the hospitals of Konoha. Which is strange, because even if Sarada was born in Orochimaru’s hideout, you’d think Sakura, our great medic ninja, would’ve made sure she would be AT LEAST properly identified/documented in Konoha as Karin for sure has that.. alongside the umbilical cord for some reason. Even worse.. Shizune has no counterargument and looks distraught. Is “you were born outside of the village” such a secret? Is there literally nothing Shizune could’ve said?

Then we have the big question: “what was Sasuke going to say?”

Sakura arrives during the battle with ‘Uchiha Shin’ and Sasuke’s first reaction to that is: “What are you doing here?” To which she apologizes to Sarada “I meant to tell you properly”. 

I think because leaving the village to find her dad because Sakura refused to tell her anything is dangerous and with that I’m guessing Kishimoto refers to some of the questions Sarada launched at Sasuke when she met him: 

“Why won’t you be with mom?”

“Do you think it’s okay to forget the face of your child?” (Why won’t you be with me?/us?)

“Who is the girl with the glasses?” (Karin) 

+ Mom won’t say anything, I don’t believe your relationship, you’re never around and yes, we have a lot of problems.  

But Sasuke says Sakura doesn’t have to apologize, because no matter what “it’s his fault” as if Sarada was some sort of mistake. Sakura staying silent for so long/lying causing Sarada despair, is her fault since Sasuke… wasn’t around lol. So.. I’m thinking, just the fact that Sarada exists at all he believes “is his fault”. He agreed to something (Sakura ever-too-willing) and looks regretful since “no matter how we look at it”, he abandoned the aftermath of that decision up until that point.

But why? He isn’t connected to Sakura directly, because Sarada is in between, “because we have you.. Sarada.”

Since ‘Boruto’ had to happen anyway, why did Kishimoto choose to go this route for Sasuke’s future in Gaiden? He obviously went back to the War Arc.. so.. I did too. 

So.. let’s take a look a Naruto’s reaction: 

This is a “simple memory” of him thinking about Sasuke explaining his hypothesis about these Uchiha Shin clones and how it could connect to the white Zetsu being a byproduct of Madara using Hashirama’s flesh for that statue (to create that army) if I’m not mistaken. Uchiha Shin daddy ended up being Orochimaru’s old experiment. (Interestingly, Sakura brought him up before he did.. in her mind clone = Orochimaru.. also food for thought, but it could be because of Mitsuki, don’t know.) 

But anyway, look at Naruto’s expression. Here he looks at a crying Sarada after she’s been told “this has nothing to do with you” by Sasuke in response to all the questions she shot at him. Which part of this is making him look so sullen?  

Naruto has shown zero concern for Sakura or the “connection” between Sasuke and Sakura throughout Gaiden even when it was implied that Karin is possibly Sarada’s mom. The concern is seeing Sarada being in pain because of it/being lied to. 

.. and left out. 

Because indeed, the mission has nothing to do with Sarada as it is “top-secret”.

“A bright future is always better..

.. don’t you think?”

Am I the only one who’s not feeling that one from Sasuke?

“You stay in the village and protect it, Hokage..” “You deal with the things you have to do. And I’ll do what I have to do. Isn’t this the ‘cooperation’ that you wanted?"

Is it, Naruto? I highly doubt it. (Indicating that something isn't right here + Sakura's eyes.)

If you’d ask Kishimoto if Sarada truly is 100% a human child his answer would be: “Yea, sure :)” 

You will get a straight up answer, enough to get the shippers gloating on socials with “proof”, but it’s as convincing as Sakura saying “..I’m sure our feelings are mutual…” 

Regardless.. why does Sasuke feel like Sarada’s existence is his “fault”? 

If you go back to the War Arc (as Kishimoto did too) Sasuke observes the conversation between Madara and Hashirama who talk about leaving the future to the next generation and “Madara’s dream coming to an end”. Both Naruto and Sasuke were willing to give up their goals for each other. Goals that ARE NOT JUST THEIR OWN. As Sasuke had said, “it’s especially true when it comes to bigger things.” Also meaning that.. even though Naruto said he was going to be a “Ninja in his own way” instead of just becoming Konoha’s “tool”, whatever future he had planned for Kohona.. if he even had one, he was willing to give that up too. 

Think about it. 

For whatever generations after them, whatever “bright future” they had planned, it was never more important than each other. If Naruto wanted a better life for all the children of Konoha and was determined to make that happen, then not even that was more important than Sasuke.

Naruto’s goal to become ‘Hokage’ and wanting the Shinobi’s to work together theory-wise was kind of vague, but he wanted to do it with Sasuke if they were going to be alive anyway.

And these dumbasses who love each other so much were reduced to these miserable looking fellas and I just think Kishimoto took the opportunity to make use of that as much as possible. Mocking the situation as obvious as he could without straight up saying it like only he can. 

“Sasuke and Sakura have a child? Lol, I’ll make the reader as suspicious as possible without actually truly revealing anything.. as always hihi.” 

Bastard.

“And then in ‘Boruto’ they can try and clean up my mess, but the damage is already kind of done, no?” 

I love him.

In the famous words of Uchiha, Madara: 

“Then it might have been impossible from me from the start. I hated having someone follow me from behind.”

But in the end Naruto and Sasuke are equals. Only Naruto can understand Sasuke on an emotional level and vice versa. Only they can balance each other out, everyone else..

Perhaps.. Sasuke saying

"A bright future is always better...

.. don't you think?"

In that almost sarcastic way.. was about Sarada (being a parent/family with Sakura) which only Naruto and Sakura understood and not so much about the mission, because that pause right there? Is not convincing and if Sasuke was truly speaking to better a future for the Shinobi world he would be much more determined.

But no one looks happy even though Sarada has her happy ending so leaving those questions open I think is just deliberate mockery.

[grewlikefancyflowers]

‘Intrusion’ extra, what it says about Jiang Cheng’s role in MDZS, and how Wei Wuxian looks back on his past with the Jiangs

I said back in like June that I’d write meta on this and then put it off for a few months, oops! Here we are, finally!

First things first, both the ‘Intrusion’ and ‘Iron Hook’ extras are not just silly romps featuring married wangxian and fanservice, as some people seem to believe?? I’d say both of them clear up pretty neatly, for those that are still confused, points of contention in the fandom - such as Wei Wuxian’s heroism, and Jiang Cheng’s role as an antagonist. Specifically, if his actions were justified or sympathetic, and if he was punished unfairly by the narrative.

The first and most obvious statement made in ‘Intrusion’ is the parallel between the story of Young Master Qin (YMQ), and JC and WWX’s youths. I’ll summarise quickly the relationship between YMQ and the fierce corpse that has been bothering him.

They grew up together in YMQ’s grandmother’s house, since they were a similar age they played together

The fierce corpse (FC) was a servant in YMQ’s grandmother’s household

The grandmother took a liking to FC, and he was in some ways treated less like a servant, and more like a member of their clan, and was allowed to attend school with the other boys

YMQ specifically notes that his grandmother used to praise FC a lot

YMQ describes a story at the school in which someone answered a question, and FC incorrectly claimed he answered wrongly. When FC pushed the matter, the other students became annoyed and drove him out of the class

It is very heavily implied (to the point where ‘implied’ isn’t really the right word) that ‘someone’ was YMQ, that he had actually answered the question wrongly, and that he felt shown up by someone he felt should be below him proving so, and that he led the other boys in driving FC away

FC left the school and didn’t attend again

I probably don’t need to lay out where the similarities are…?

In response to YMQ’s story, Wei Wuxian (rhetorically) says this - ‘“Regarding the solution to that problem, in the end, who was right and who was wrong?”’

Aside from just exposing the kind of person YMQ is, in reference to a story wherein ‘FC’ is clearly a stand in for WWX, and YMQ for JC, MXTX’s decision to highlight specifically that it was FC that had the right solution to the problem is not insignificant. Nor how she specifies that he was the instigator of FC’s expulsion, while hiding behind the mob mentality of the other students.

Another interesting detail is that YMQ deliberately obscures the truth throughout the chapter, because despite his refusal to acknowledge it, possibly even to himself, he knows that between him and FC he is the one in the wrong. Similarly, JC obscures the truth about WWX, to the wider cultivation world during the period of WWX’s ‘downfall,’ (Ch.73) but also, more importantly, to JL after WWX’s death. JL believes that WWX ordered WN to kill both JZX and JYL (Ch.42). Of course, if JC did not have a guilty conscience, he would not feel it necessary to lie about these things. Or rather, convince himself that they are true, as he still blames WWX for the deaths of his parents’ and JYL and the end of the story (Ch.102).

YMQ’s attitude about servants is bad enough that it upsets Sizhui quite a lot, and shortly after their interaction with him, we have this exchange between LSZ and Wangxian.

‘Lan SiZhui thought about it, “I do not know either.” He responded with honesty, “He never did anything truly evil, but perhaps I find it difficult to deal with people of such character. I do not particularly like the tone with which he mentioned the word ‘servant’…”

He paused at this point. Wei WuXian was oblivious to it, “Typical, typical. Most of the people in this world looks down upon servants. Servants sometimes even look down upon themselves… Why are you two looking at me like that?”

Halfway through, he interrupted, not knowing whether to laugh or frown, “Stop—is there a misunderstanding here? How could I compare? Lotus Pier isn’t the usual household, after all. I’ve beaten Jiang Cheng up way more times than he’s ever beaten me!”

Lan WangJi didn’t say anything, but instead gave him a silent hug. Wei WuXian couldn’t help but smiled. He hugged back, stroking Lan WangJi’s back a couple of times. Lan SiZhui coughed. Seeing how confident Wei WuXian looked, not at all sensitive to the word ‘servant’, he was finally at ease.’

There’s a lot going on here...

Firstly, WWX definitely does not think badly of himself because his father was a servant, because WWX doesn’t think badly of servants. It is also true that Lotus Pier wasn’t so strict with hierarchy as other sects (Ch.51, Ch.71), and that WWX and JC sometimes playfully fought on equal terms in their youths. But WWX was also very clearly treated badly in the Jiang household due to his status, notably by YZY (Ch.51, Ch.56, Ch.57, Lotus Seed Pod extra), JC does also repeatedly enact real physical violence against WWX, that he simply brushes off (Ch.56, Ch.59). You could argue that the example from Ch.59 is under extenuating circumstances and therefore should not count, but the same excuse cannot apply to Ch.56.

Knowing this, Lan Wangji’s response to this, to hug WWX, does not feel casual at all. Instead it comes across as if he is offering comfort, which WWX accepts.

Finally, this exchange finishes with ‘Seeing how confident Wei WuXian looked, not at all sensitive to the word ‘servant’, he [LSZ] was finally at ease.’ To me, this seems to suggest that the entire purpose of this was not at all reader directed exposition about how good and equal the Jiang household was, but rather a WWX-typical veneer meant to appease LSZ’s concerns (taking a moment to quietly fangirl about how good MXTX is at ‘show, don’t tell’). Also suggests that WWX is aware on some level that he was treated badly, and LWJ is too - presumably, it is something that they have spoken about.

Continuing with the story of YMQ and FC…

YMQ returns to his home village as an adult wearing a jade pendant that belonged to his now deceased grandmother

FC asks to borrow it, YMQ allows it, thinking FC is missing his grandmother

FC returns telling him he has lost the pendant, YMQ thinks he has actually sold it, and has him beaten, it is very heavily implied that he breaks his leg

In the present, YMQ admits that he doesn’t actually think FC would have gone so far as to sell something of his grandmother’s

This is reflective of JC’s attitude towards WWX throughout his life, with regards to how he frequently comes to the worst conclusions about him, without having any real evidence, and lashes out at him for it. I spoke about this a bit before here. Most notable example is probably during their conversation in the demon-slaughtering cave wherein they discuss WWX’s defection, and JC decides that WWX is acting carelessly and playing the hero, though admits himself that WWX is following the Jiang Sect’s teachings, then declares WWX an enemy of the cultivation world behind his back.

The ambiguity of FC’s death, and YMQ’s role in it discussed in part 3 of the extra is referencing WWX’s own death, and JC’s role in it. In the end the conclusion is that whether or not YMQ was responsible, FC did not hold him to it.

In the end, FC is content to simply throw some fruit, and punch YMQ in the face in vengeance for his death, and even goes out of his way to avoid hurting LSZ when he is fighting him. He returns the jade pendant, that he really did lose and not steal, and goes back to resting peacefully.

WWX, LWJ, and LSZ’s views on YMQ’s fate are as follows

‘Lan WangJi gently tugged Lil’ Apple’s rein, his voice calm, “He was fortunate.”

Wei WuXian agreed, “Indeed. Young Master Qin has got quite the luck.”

After some time, Lan SiZhui finally couldn’t hold his words back any longer. Sincerely, he spoke, “But I still feel that only one punch might be a bit insufficient…”’

JC didn’t even get a punch to the face. I’d say he got off very lightly indeed.

[melonsmessymusings]

So let’s finally talk about Giles and his suicide mission to stop Willow.

He arrived at the Magic Box with 100% certainty that in order to save Willow, he has to get the magic sucked out of him which will kill him. There’s a few things to discuss here:

1. Was it an impulsive decision? Last time he went on a kamikaze mission, it was an impulsive, emotionally charged attack. It’s possible this was the same given his teleporting at just the right moment. But what if it wasn’t?

Giles is a very depressed bastard, has been since S2. He’s exhibited self-destructive and suicidal tendencies on multiple occasions. I personally believe he’s in that really awful limbo of not wanting to actively try and end his own life but if it were to happen he’d be totally fine with it. A very dangerous mindset. Also, given his lifestyle it’s more than likely he has contingencies for when he dies. As if he hasn’t got a file with his will or whatever tucked in his bedside cabinet just in case.

2. The timing. Let’s say he was contacted about Tara’s death and Willow being all evil a few hours after it happened. He teleports into the Magic Box that evening. A few hours is more than enough time for Giles and an ENTIRE coven to exhaust all the research options. And I refuse to believe he was calm about it all either. Hello Mr Impulsive-Reckless-Decision-Maker.

3. He’s absolutely off his face on magic. Judging by the high Willow gets after she drains him, he’s absolutely buzzed. And remember, he’s a recovering magic addict. Knowing what that power does to him and how he changes, he chose to do that to himself. It’s interesting.

4. His demeanour when talking to Buffy in the training room. It’s giving last conversation vibes. He asks for forgiveness, which Buffy grants him and they laugh about the woes of existence. But when Buffy asks him what’s going to happen, he never refers to himself. He doesn’t believe he has a future. He doesn’t say that he’s personally going to take Willow to the coven, he says that the coven will find a way to extract the magic from her. It’s just... imagine how angry Buffy would be if she knew? She would knock the seven bells out of him for being stupid. I think if less had been going on, Buffy would’ve been a bit more like “ugh, why are you talking like that?”

I personally believe that after he left Sunnydale, Giles would’ve been hideously miserable in England. It’s likely the Council gave him some shitty research job and made a mockery of him for abandoning his Slayer. Or they genuinely didn’t know (but I doubt that). I don’t think he was happy. He was probably on his own and deliberately isolated himself from people as always. And he was so utterly defeated that he literally didn’t care about anything which is so sad.

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Sweetest of Exiles - One

Summary: When Oberyn Martell travels to Essos for exile, he found more than he anticipated when he first lays eyes on Pero Tovar, his brother-in-arms in the Second Sons mercenary company. While Pero is a bit resistant to his Oberyn’s overt charms at first, the Prince always gets what he wants. When the Second Sons are hired to rescue a wealthy merchant’s daughter, Oberyn learns there is much more to the grumpy sellsword. And Oberyn doesn’t mind sharing–especially when the merchant’s daughter smiles at him like that.

Pairing: Oberyn Martell x Pero Tovar, (past) Pero Tovar x F!Reader (No Y/N), future--it is a surprise.

Rating for this chapter: T for mentions of blood, guts and gore...magic. My overuse of italics. 

Word Count: 5k

A/N: I wrote most of this drunk (or buzzed). I am still riding my red wine high so I almost apologize for the nonsense. If you have any questions about the ASOIAF lore/geography that I’m mentioning, please send me an ask or a DM! I’m always happy to ramble about this series.

(thank you to my love, @starlight-starwrites for the absolutely gorgeous banner. I love you.)

Or read on Ao3 here!

CHAPTER ONE: The Mercenary

Oberyn had always wondered what he looked like when fucking someone. He had looking glasses set up in one of his lover’s rooms so he could try to catch a glimpse himself. But his unrelenting need to keep his partners satisfied always won out over his curiosity.

But then the gods seemed to have a sense of humor when they sent him away from Dorne after he might-have-killed Edgar Yronwood. The Citadel and Oldtown had entertained him for a moment but it soon bored him and he set off across the Narrow Sea to Essos. While the Second Sons mercenary company welcomed him and his sword arm, his eyes were firmly trained on the man toward the back of the company with the scar down his face.

His face.

And well, his time away from Dorne just became much more interesting.

**

It had taken almost an entire year of not-at-all subtle flirting and propositions and nearly losing their lives time and time again before Pero found himself tumbling into the Prince of Dorne’s bed. The Prince was definitely persistent, Pero would never admit that his charms—his annoying charms—had worn him down instead of Pero’s selfish desire for release while the company was too far away from any sort of willing woman and his hand just wasn’t cutting it. But the Prince had been attentive—willing to let Pero wrap his scarred and rough hand around his throat when he was pressing him into the threadbare bedroll in the quiet corner of camp.

The prince felt good—and he knew how to make Pero feel good.

It was infuriating—he wanted to strangle he smug smirk right off the prince’s face but he knew that the Prince was only capable of enjoying when someone’s hand was around his throat. But he had to admit that he had finally found a true friend (and not just release) with the man who looked strangely like him.

It had been nearly two decades since he could speak with someone as openly as he did when he was alone with the prince in their tent.

But his mind still drifted—to years ago. To his life before finding coin in the service of the Second Sons.

“You make the moon shine brighter, Pero.”

It was childish of him, stupid, to still think of her all these years later. Surely she had forgotten him. They had just been children—he had just been a third-born son of a disgraced lord from Valysar and she had been… she had been everything.

“You are pensive, Tovar.” The prince’s voice cut through his reverie.

He had thought the prince asleep—spent from a long day’s ride and a quick, near-desperate fuck as soon as their shared tent was erected. “It is dark, princeling. You cannot see me.”

Oberyn chuckled. “I know your brooding silences from your angry quiet.”

“You think a great deal of yourself, don’t you?” He grumbled, rolling his eyes despite the dark.

“I believe you think a great deal of me, as well.”

Pero sighed.

“Tell me what weighs on your mind.”

“Nothing that concerns you. Go to sleep.”

Oberyn laughed. “I will find out what has you brooding.”

“Do not hold your breath, princeling.”

He only laughed.

Pero was not sure when they had both fallen asleep but they were both woken by a frantic yell outside their tent. The prince’s knife glinted in the dimming moonlight and Pero had never let his hand leave the hilt of one of his smaller swords as they charged outside. They expected an ambush—a retaliation from the Tyroshi they had just pushed back on behalf of Lys—but instead, they found a disheveled man, bloodied and bruised and desperately limping toward their camp, frantically waving his hands above his head, shouting something in the Myrish bastard Valyrian dialect.

Pero sheathed his blade as he finally started to realize what the man was babbling. “Calm yourself, man.” Pero said, stepping in front of Oberyn.

The man nearly collapsed as he reached them, big, brown eyes shining in the moonlight. “They took her. They took her—I barely escaped.” He continued to jabber and Pero mostly listened—having heard desperate pleas from hundreds of men and women over the years of his service in the mercenary company—the man’s story consisted of being surrounded on the road to Myr by a group of religious zealots. The story was not an unfamiliar one. The Free Cities were known to erupt with pockets of violence; the causes ranged from trade disputes, claims to land, religion, and everything in between.

Pero had heard it all.

But then the man opened his mouth, blood drying on his chin, and said, “but they took her—they wanted her.” And a name pushed by the man’s bruised lips—a name he hadn’t heard in years.

Before he could stop himself, Pero reached out and grabbed the man by the collar of his tunic and hauled him to his unsteady feet. “Tell me where.”

**

The captains deliberated for only a few short moments before refusing to take the charge.

The fact that the woman was Qohorik had negated the fact that the Myrish magistrate who had fought his way to their camp had promised a princess’ ransom and promised that her father, a prominent merchant, would double it for her safe return. The Second Sons had been humiliated generations ago at Qohor and had not taken any bounties or contracts from the city or its inhabitants since then.

The Second Sons gave the magistrate—Orestes, his name was—some water and a bit of feed for his exhausted horse and then told him to leave. They would not go.

And Pero was an angry man. He had wrath in his blood since he was a boy, tempered only with bouts of relief and quiet. But this had sent him into a near rage with how flippant they captains had been when they had delivered their decision. Of course, he had not mentioned that the woman Orestes had pleaded to be rescued had been…her. Or how he knew her. Attachments like that were frowned upon, even by mercenaries. Soft hearts made easy targets.

But as the sun set the next day, Pero knew what he had to do. Even if he was alone. He packed his bare essentials, mostly worried about his sack of coin and weapons, and then pushed out of the tent-

-only to be met with the smirking face of the princeling. “Come, I have a surprise for you.”

“I do not have time for this.”

“Yes, you do,” Oberyn said with a broadening smirk as he turned away, leading Pero further away from camp as the moon continued her climb up into the inky sky. And why was Pero following him? He had to leave. He had to find that stupid magistrate. He had to-

There were about two dozen Second Sons, including one of the company’s healers, waiting at the tree line with their packs and mounts. Oberyn’s smirk reached its peak as he winked over his shoulder at Pero who only scowled in return. The Magistrate—Orestes—was standing with them, looking more than a little out of place with his rumpled fine clothes, now stained with dirt and blood. But he offered a tentative tilt of his head when Pero stepped up to the group with Oberyn.

“What did you do?” Pero hissed.

“I formed my own mercenary company,” Oberyn replied with a roll of his shoulders. “I know you are brighter than this, Tovar.”

If possible, his lips formed an even thinner line.

“Do not pout. We are going to save the damsel and get paid.” There was a cheer from the small band of men—both Tovar and Orestes were the only ones who did not seem to enjoy it. But soon they were on their way, each step taking them further away from the strange safety of the Second Sons and into the wilds of Essos.

**

Orestes, Pero found, was fond of speaking to anyone who would listen. His voice was pleasing but Pero preferred the quiet in most instances. But, he supposed it was necessary to learn just how he had ended up fleeing to the Second Sons in a desperate plea for help.

Orestes and his companion had been traveling from Qohor to Myr—and Pero tried very hard to not grind his teeth every time Orestes referred to her as ‘my lady’—to allow her to see more of Essos and to return Orestes to Myr after his year-long residency to Qohor that had been in the name of strengthening trade routes and agreements.

(“But, of course, I found myself more entranced by the city and its people than my fellow magistrates’ mandates that I was told to quickly solidify.” He sighed, the sound only a lovelorn man could make and Pero could not stop the grinding of his teeth at that.)

But on the road between Volantis and Myr, a group of heavily armed, religious zealots had slaughtered their small band of traveling companions and guards and took her and Orestes captive in a plot to gain the knowledge her father was keeping secret.

Her father, Lord Ollo, had been one of the famed smiths in Qohor who still knew the secrets of re-forging Valyrian Steel. The famed metal had become a treasure since the Doom and those who could work with the fickle and strong metal were regarded as lords and wielded their power like nobility, too. Travelers from all across Essos sought him out for new weapons, armor, and the occasional piece of jewelry from bits of Valyrian Steel and he had gained a reputation for being excessively secretive but the best at his trade. His wife was a noble woman and had raised his status with their marriage while providing her with the lifestyle on par with princesses.

But Pero knew all of this. He had seen it firsthand. He had supped with him and felt his lady-wife’s fingers tug at his boyishly poorly cropped hair with a fond smile. He knew that their home, an imposing fortress deep in the Forest of Qohor, always smelled of fire and metal and drying flowers.

It smelled…like home.

Well, it had. For a time. A long time ago.

And Orestes never needed to know that—never needed to know that the only reason he had a small band of mercenaries at his call was because the Prince knew that the woman, whose name he could not even say aloud, meant something to Pero.

For all his pride and well-earned arrogance, Oberyn was a good man, Pero had to admit. (He would never actually say this to Oberyn, his ego was big enough without the extra fodder.) And he would have to find a way to repay the prince-who-had-everything in some fashion. Pero’s pride would not allow this kindness to be left unpaid.

Orestes went on to explain that the zealots thought attaining the knowledge of Valyrian Steel would allow them the proper way of sacrificing in order to satiate the supposed blood lust of some old, stupidly named god. They hoped to trade her for Lord Ollo’s knowledge.

“But you seem to know my lady,” Orestes said, turning in his saddle to look Pero straight in the face. “Do you?”

“Is she your lady?” Pero asked in return, ignoring Orestes’ question and how his stomach turned at the thought of her being alone with a group of men as delusional as the band of zealots. Thankfully, they were nearing where Orestes said he had been held captive—less than two days’ ride from their camp but they had set their horses upon the trail with haste, cutting time from their journey.

Orestes’ answering smile was small. “No. But I am blessed to know her and I will never forgive myself for leaving her behind.”

“But she told you to, didn’t she? Told you to run and not look back.” The words were out of his mouth before he could bite them back and his ever-present scowl deepened.

“You do know her. Indeed, she told me to run as soon as I was able. But not to Myr—she told me to run west.” He paused and shook his head and Pero barely caught the confusion coloring the Magistrate’s features. “I had thought the prince was jesting when he said you knew her. I am in your debt, it seems.”

“Just pay the fee you promised.”

“Of course! I would not dream of-”

“Good.” Pero dug his heels into his horse’s side and urged the animal into a faster trot. “You will keep your head, then.” Orestes said something else but Pero had already galloped away to Oberyn’s side at the front of the group. “What have you said to the magistrate?”

“Nothing of consequence.”

“Do not lie to me, princeling.” Pero scarcely noticed the men behind them slow their horses’ pace to give them room. Their relationship—if it could even be called that—was an open secret to most in the Second Sons and some of those who followed Oberyn into this new company were also willing to indulge themselves in each other’s bedrolls if the time called for it.

Oberyn only laughed. “I did not know that your obvious reaction to a lady’s name was a secret needing to be kept.”

“What else have you told him?”

“Nothing. Just as you have told me nothing. But I have still called the men who were loyal to me and the promised coin to save this woman you have kept like a secret.” Oberyn arched an eyebrow, a look Pero knew meant Oberyn was daring him to argue. “She will be safe. The Magistrate will be on his way and our pockets will be filled.” Oberyn’s dark eyes sparkled in the growing sunlight. “And I shall meet this lady of yours. She must be a sight to behold to warrant such attention.”

“She…” The words died on his tongue. How would he even try to describe her? How childish would he sound to a prince for harboring such affections for his childhood love after all this time? “She warrants much more than any man could ever give. Including the Magistrate.”

Oberyn huffed but a smile tugged at his lips. “We are nearly there, Tovar. You can make the polite introductions.”

**

Night had just started to fall, painting the sky a violent shade of orange, when Orestes had announced that the ruined castle was just over the next hill.

Pero felt his chest tighten for a moment, a shot of adrenaline he had not felt as strongly since he was a new recruit to the Second Sons facing a small horde of Dothraki.

They crested the hill and Pero saw the broken remains of a once-grand castle. A single window was lit with the dim light of a candle just as the sun disappeared behind the stone, making it look like it had absorbed the red light and bathed in an inky black.

Defense of the castle was nearly impossible with its location and the small band of mercenaries quickly surrounded it, ready to drive inside when suddenly….the door, large and rusted, opened and a single man rushed out, screaming something in what Pero thought to be Old Ghiscari and covered in…blood.

Pero turned to look at Oberyn who seemed to be waffling between amusement and confusion at the sight. He waved a hand, silently commanding two men to secure the fleeing zealot—quietly, if possible.

“It is too quiet,” Pero said as he turned back to the castle after watching the screaming man be brought to his knees and a dirty rag shoved between his lips.

Oberyn agreed. “Surely a band of zealots would make more noise. I’ve been told they’re fond of chanting.” The prince slid closer to the ruined castle, staying hidden behind the rolling hill and scattered boulders for cover.

Pero watched him move, knowing the prince had an innate talent for hearing the smallest noises—whether it be from a rabbit or a sneaking assassin, and would trust whatever his judgement was.

“If anyone is left, they are not moving.”

Pero nodded, ignoring the umpteenth time his chest clenched, and signaled for the rest of their band of men to press forward. Step by step, they neared the castle and spread out to find different entrances. Orestes stumbled in the loose dirt to stay near Pero and Oberyn and Pero grimaced when Oberyn nudged him in the side, silently telling him to allow it—at least for the time being.

Closer and closer, they crept until they Pero was able to curl his hand around the edge of the door and peel it open just enough for him and Oberyn to slip inside. Orestes tripped over a loose stone as he followed.

And Oberyn had been right.

The castle was quiet. Unnaturally so.

The grip on his swords tightened as the small group pushed further into the dark ruins. Torches were scattered and burning out in their holds on the wall, casting even more shadows against the crumbling stone. He heard the soft footfalls of his fellow mercenaries coming in through the east and west entrances but it gave him little comfort. They were alone.

Alone.

His next step made a splash and he looked down to see the toe of his boot submerged in a dark puddle. He reached out and grabbed a torch from the wall and let the dying flames shine near the floor.

It was blood.

He raise the torch just enough to light the end of the hall and sighed.

“How interesting,” Oberyn said as he glanced over his shoulder.

Blood pooled between the broken stone and drip-drip-dripped from some unseen source to puddle in the corner. Bodies were crumpled along the path and Pero turned to pin Orestes with a look. “These men were the ones who slaughtered your guards and took you captive?”

Orestes looked down at a body and seemed to bite back a gulp. “Yes.”

“It looks like they put up quite a fight.”

“It looks like they were ripped open,” Pero corrected before pressing forward. “What did this? Did they do this to each other?”

“I’ve never seen a group more cohesive than them,” Orestes said. “They never contradicted each other or spoke out of turn. They had a singular mentality, it seemed. I would not believe they turned on each other.”

“Men turn on each other all the time,” Oberyn said. “Even without cause.”

They continued forward, Pero leading. He was not sure where they were going, but he knew—instinctively—that he needed to keep moving. If another person or creature had found the castle before they did, what hope did she have? Would he find her like this, too? Reduced to a bloody corpse? Would that be the last chance he would have to see her?

But they walked on, further into the dark, catching glimpses of the rising moon in the half-collapsed windows until they turned and saw the outline of a door, lit by a dim, orange light. Without a care, Pero pushed forward, hilt of his sword still in his hand as he pushed the door open and his grip faltered.

For the first time in nearly two decades, Pero let his swords fall from his grasp.

In the corner of the small room, huddled near a solitary candle, was a woman. Not just a woman—her.

Chains wrapped around her ankles and wrists and angry, deep cuts spanned the length of her legs and arms and her fine dress had been reduced to rags. He barely registered Oberyn calling for the healer as he stepped to her side and quickly knelt down. The locks on the chains were easily undone and his roughened hands carefully prodded at the broken skin.

“Pero,” she whispered, the name sliding by her chapped lips. Her head sagged and Pero moved just enough to let her forehead rest against his shoulder. “You’re here…” her voice was rough and raspy, like she had been screaming for hours. And perhaps she had.

“I’m here.”

The healer came in, arms filled with supplies, while more than a few of their company stuck their heads into the room to see their charge. Oberyn quickly moved them back and shut the door—Pero would thank him for it later.

“Look at me. Look at me, Petal,” Pero said as the healer tutted as he looked over her wounds before uncorking a bit of firewine.

Her unfocused eyes slid to him as the healer set to work. A cry broke her chapped lips as the firewine started to spill across her legs.

Pero reached out and kept her head still, gaze on him, as the healer continued. “Just me, Petal. I am here.”

“Pe-Pero.” The name was stilted on her tongue. “Please—it hurts-” a scream tore its way out of her throat but Pero held her steady even as his chest clenched.

“I know. But it will be over soon.”

Tears gathered in her eyes and slid down her dirty cheeks as her hands shot out to grab at his armor; he could feel the heat of her touch sliding and blooming warmth through his thick tunic. But he kept her focused on him even as the healer muttered about needing more wrappings.

“I’m here, Petal. I’m here.”

**

“This is my fault,” Orestes whispered.

The company had settled into the ruins as a camp for the night, finding the rooms (where there wasn’t blood or any bodies) more comfortable than the outside ground. Pero, Oberyn, and Orestes were the last three to retire from the roaring fire they had made in the remnants of the great hall.

Pero agreed but kept that to himself. “How?”

“We travelled by Myr weeks ago. But I could not bear to part from my lady’s side—I convinced her, selfishly, to let me take her to see Volantis, Lys, Tyrosh. She had marveled at everything Norvos and Braavos had offered—even Lorath had made her wonder like a child. I wanted to give her more of that, to show her all I could.”

“And then you were set upon by zealots. Probably followed you from Dagger Lake.”

Orestes shook his head. “Our party never neared that pirate hive. The closest we came to it was when she insisted on seeing Valysar. That little town of no consequence.”

Oberyn, only briefly, touched Pero’s back and he knew the prince meant it as a comfort at the mention of Pero’s former home. Orestes did not notice it.

“But she was adamant and refused to tell anyone why. But she all but disappeared for an entire day once we arrived and would not speak of her adventures—the little box she had procured never left her side and was never opened.”

Pero almost smiled at that. She had not changed—in that respect, at least.

Orestes yawned and stood from the rickety chair. “I must retire for the night. Please alert me if my lady calls for me.”

Oberyn hummed an agreement while Pero felt his face curl into a sneer as the magistrate left the hall.

“He certainly holds a candle for his lady, does he not?” Oberyn mused as soon as Orestes was out of earshot.

“She did not ask for him once,” Pero said before reaching forward to grab the jug of terrible wine left on the table and took a large gulp.

“But she’s asked for you? Hm?” Oberyn asked, snatching the jug from him. “And you’ve yet to introduce me. I am almost insulted.”

“She needs rest, princeling.” He had made sure she was comfortable in one of the largest rooms and was happy to find that her trunks, filled with her belongings, were still intact and made sure she received them before he had let her rest for the night, making sure to let the rest of the company know that she was not to be disturbed.

“I’m sure she does.” He took a drink. “But she has also been trapped, alone, with men who meant her harm for nearly a week. You were the first friendly face she saw—do not think that I misheard her. She called for you. Pero.”

“You could walk in there now and she would not be able to tell the difference.”

Oberyn tutted and Pero stole the jug back. “I believe she would.”

Pero nearly startled when Oberyn reached out and grasped his wrist, keeping him from draining the rest of the wine. His grip was firm but gentle and a hold Pero knew well. “I thought people in Essos were more willing to indulge themselves in matters of the heart and flesh. Do not be stupid.”

And somehow…that worked. Pero slipped into her room and found her sitting on the small bed, wrapped legs atop the thin blankets and a book on her lap. In the warm candlelight, she looked almost healthy. Like she was not covered in healing salve and he didn’t know there were long, angry cuts hidden by wrappings and her thin nightgown.

She looked…so much like the girl he had left behind decades ago.

Pero remembered Lady Daeryssa smiling down at her daughter, flowers twisted into her braids.

“You are special, my star. Like me.”

“Like you, Mama?”

Daeryssa nodded and grabbed the small, blue rose she had Pero fetch just that morning and pressed her thumb against one of its thorns until blood bloomed on her skin and started to trickle down her skin. Her face was serene and Pero could not look away. Her bloodied fingers pulled the petals from the rose and she carefully pressed them against her daughter’s forehead, sticking them to her skin with blood. Words he didn’t understand slipped by her lips as she pressed another petal and then another to her daughter’s face until she stripped the flower bare.

“You will be magnificent, my star. Your trials will be hard but you will always rise above.”

“Come in,” she said, setting her book aside.

Pero did as he was told and blindly set his hands in hers as she reached out for him, letting her tug him onto the edge of her bed. “How are you?”

“I will heal.” She smiled as if nothing had caused her pain and his chest hurt. “I brought you something.” She leaned back just enough to retrieve a small box from the mess of blankets.

The box was nothing spectacular, made from a polished dark wood with a simple latch and did not weigh more than his dagger. “How did you know we would see each other again?” He asked.

She only smiled and pressed the small box further into his grip. “Open it.”

And he could not tell her no. He unfastened the latch and felt his face crumple as he looked inside. His mother’s handwriting, still beautiful and tilted, drew his eye first. He grabbed the thin bit of parchment and unfurled it.

My dear boy- I love you more than words can say. You have saved us.

The rest of the letter was filled with anecdotes, telling Pero how the coin he had sent back home kept their family afloat and settled his father’s debts, allowing his mother and brothers to stay home and retain their titles and livelihoods. He had saved them. His mother had written it at least three times in her short letter.

But I still wish I witnessed you grow into the man you are today. Come home. You are always welcome.

He quickly let the letter curl in on itself again and shoved it back in the box, knowing she was watching him, face serene and almost unreadable. He reached into the box again and let his fingers brush against something cold and smooth. A shuddering breath pushed its way out of his lung as he pulled out a small, carved wooden wolf that fit in his palm. He raised it up to press the well-worn wood against his lips, just once, before placing it gently back into the box.

“You met my family.”

“I did,” she said. “They were very kind.” She paused. “And they smile so often. I almost didn’t believe you were related to them.”

He huffed. “You never let me have a moments’ peace, Petal.”

“You were the only peace I knew as a child,” she responded.

Pero sat with her for hours under their tree after her mother had disappeared and the petals remained on her face, only falling one by one after the sun had set, leaving little bloody thumbprints across her skin. He tried to press them back onto her skin without success, and she only giggled at his attempts, leaning into each of his touches and letting him try and try again.

She collected all the petals as they fell and Pero had given up on trying to re-stick them.

“What are you doing?”

“Practice.” He watched her reach out and scratch her palm against the broken bark of the tree, slicing open her palm in a single movement.

He squawked and moved to grab her hand but she curled her fingers into a fist, crushing the petals against her bloodied palm. She took a single, long breath through her nose and then unclenched her fist. The petals rose from her bloodied hand and floated up into the air as if pulled by invisible strings. They swirled around the pair before, with another long breath, she let them fly away, disappearing into the thick of the forest.

She laughed then, a light sound that had blood rushing to his cheeks for a reason he could not explain or pinpoint at that moment. All he could mutter as she looked at him, eyes twinkling and a giggle still on her lips was…”petal.”

“Why did you leave?” She asked as he tucked the small box away into his tunic.

Pero froze. “I had to.”

A/N: please let me know what you think! I hope you guys like this! there will be three chapters. 

[normal-thoughts-official]

Why was Lorenzo such a jealous bitch nd why does this fandom treat him like he's a good person😑

okay so i know that this is a rethorical question but i've actually thought about this a lot so i'll take my crack at answering this - WHY is lorenzo such a jealous bitch?

the only thing he's said about why he hates magnus - that i remember of, at least - is the line "he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth. his fame is not based on talent, it's all nepotism"

now, anyone who knows anything at all about magnus knows that not a single fucking word of this is true. magnus was born poor in a recently colonized country under a lot of oppression, there was no damn silver spoon in his mouth, and after that he was thoroughly abused by his demon father. his fame is also absolutely based on talent - he invented portals, for fuck's sake! and the "nepotism" comment barely makes sense. i assume he means it's just that magnus' power is all due to the fact that his father is demon royalty, which makes magnus more powerful than most warlocks

so, that explains what lorenzo is jealous of - magnus' power and prestige among warlocks (such as having been HWoB for decades) - but not what the fuck lorenzo's deal is (i mean, we've met plenty of other warlocks in the show, many of which weren't really fans of magnus, but no one other than lorenzo has this idea that magnus doesn't deserve his fame), or why magnus (because while like, yes, magnus is very powerful, i assume he's not the only son of a prince of hell, considering asmodeus is not the only prince of hell and these guys get on the loose, like, weekly. and lorenzo is obviously OBSESSED with him, he deliberately went out of his way and abused his power as HWoB several times specifically to antagonize him, and also, you know, TRIED TO KILL HIM)

lorenzo talks about magnus almost as if magnus took something from him. it's not just that magnus is powerful and that he supposedly doesn't deserve it, lorenzo obviously feels as if antagonizing magnus is some sort of vengeance. i know plenty of jealous people, but going as far as forbidding anyone other than himself from giving magnus a magic transfusion, specifically saying that if it went wrong he wouldn't help, and then refusing to take back the magic when he KNEW perfectly well that would kill him, is to me very obviously a thought out plan TO kill magnus. lorenzo had been hoping from the start that magnus' body would reject his magic and the transfusion would kill him - why else would he specifically say, the second he agreed to the transfusion, that if it went wrong magnus would be on his own?

and it's not like lorenzo even gains anything from that, other than killing magnus. and humiliating him, which lorenzo has said explicitly was something he wanted to do (i believe the term he used was "breaking his spirit", but potato potatoh). if it was about magnus' position of power, he already had that - lorenzo literally already had the HWoB position. if it was about magnus' magic, he had already lost it. lorenzo had absolutely NOTHING to gain from magnus, so his personal vendetta against him doesn't even make sense from JUST a jealousy standpoint. he had already "won" over magnus. the only explanation is that he wanted some kind of revenge

but revenge from what? well, we know that magnus and lorenzo don't like each other, but magnus never really TOOK anything from lorenzo. considering how he wouldn't miss an opportunity to talk about how much he hated him, i think lorenzo would have brought it up if that had been the case. and magnus is just not the kind of person to pull the rug from under other people's feet - look no further than the whole show for evidence of that. he literally puts the others above himself at all times (which is unhealthy but that's another story and something i've talked about plenty of times already)

so why does lorenzo feel so much resentment towards magnus? why does he act as if magnus' power took something that was rightfully his?

i think lorenzo feels that he was entitled to be the most powerful, to have the most prestige, to be above magnus, and he resented magnus because that was simply not true

why?

let's go back to the only thing we know about lorenzo's backstory - the baby painting. yes, it's a huge meme, but think about that for a second. lorenzo has a huge ass painting of himself as a baby that he displays proudly in his home and that's, like, his #1 stop at the house tour. the baby painting. "needless to say, being born in spain during the siglo de oro was quite the experience". is the first thing he said

let's make this abundantly clear: this line makes it canon that lorenzo is a colonizer. the siglo de oro ("golden century" in spanish) started (roughly) in 1492, year of the """""discovery""""" of the americas, and ended (roughly) in 1659, the year when spain signed a treaty and lost a bunch of their territories to france (link to source). altho the term is usually used to refer to the boom of the arts in spain, it's obvious, just from these historical landmarks, that the siglo de oro is about colonization. it's about the fact that at the time spain was at its peak colonial power, and could afford to exploit what later became third world countries, and put part of that money (in fact, the literal gold they were stealing from latin american countries) into arts and other luxuries (because in the renaissance portraits were a luxury item and a symbol of status - link to source) for the ultra rich that benefited from colonization

so, lorenzo is not only a colonizer, but he's a part of the elite. the fact that his family could afford to have a painting of him as a BABY (portraits were almost exclusively adult portraits, and usually of the whole family, unless you were even richer than the rich. and even then individual portraits were usually to celebrate important achievements such as a marriage or acquisition of state - a baby being born doesn't qualify, especially because at the time most babies died not long after birth anyway), and a HUGE painting on top of that, shows that they were just. loaded in an incomprehensible way. im talking jeff bezos level of riches. they were the elite of the biggest colonial empire of their century. so, ironically, lorenzo was born with a silver spoon in his mouth - everything that he had, he was born having, and he specifically had because it was being stolen due to a dramatically violent process of genocide and slavery, that he believed to be entitled to simply because he was born a spaniard/white. that is all canon, because in the shverse mundane history is the same as in real life. EVERYONE who was born in the colonial elites was taught that they were entitled to shit from other countries, that they were superior not only to other ppls but also to their own people - let's not forget that this was way before the advent of republics, those were monarchies. the ppl who were part of the elite straight up believed they were superior to others by virtue of god

"woah woah woah but lorenzo is played by javier muñoz who's brown" yeah, which is unfortunate, but he is still canonically a colonizer. first off, because it's not like they wanted someone to be lorenzo and were looking for brown people - they were looking for someone javier could play because he's a bigshot broadway actor who was also a fan of the show, and then they picked lorenzo. probably because the sh showrunners don't fucking know the difference between a latino and a spaniard. or maybe they do, but they thought, "eh, close enough". either way, lorenzo is a spaniard, and he was born a colonizer - ergo, he is white, regardless of what race his actor is, regardless of even what he looks like. there are plenty of white spaniards with similar skin tones to lorenzo, because what today is spain used to be a territory occupied by middle eastern ppl, and there was mixing. what makes whiteness is not skin tone, it's context, and the context of being a literal colonizer directly benefitting of the oppression of black and brown people is as white as it gets

so, to recap: lorenzo was born a white colonizer, and he was RAISED believing that everything he had, he was entitled to. he was entitled to it by virtue of god, because he was born a part of the rich elite in the richest colonial power in the world, and he had access to everything he could possibly want. and he wasn't just entitled to riches and power - which he still has, look at his fucking mansion, dude - but specifically to superiority to his peers. especially black and brown people, the source of his riches, the people who owe him the wealth he takes from them

and then he joins the warlock world, and not only is he not royalty (because presumably he is the son of a regular demon, not too high up in the hierarchy) but some brown guy is. and this guy is in a position of power over him (high warlock) and he is better than him (at magic, specifically, but also at everything including being a human being, but lorenzo doesn't care about that). and lorenzo is fucking livid, because he believes himself to be entitled to be the best, entitled to be treated as a superior, entitled to admiration and to servitude, especially from people like magnus (let's not forget that the philippines - colonized by spain during the siglo de oro - are right next to indonesia [link]). instead, magnus is, politically speaking, his superior

and it's not like it even means much because the high warlock position is implied to be kind of like, the mayor, and it's not like magnus ever abused his power (unlike some people - and sidenote, i think this backstory is also why lorenzo was so comfortable using his power to antagonize magnus: because he was raised in a context where political power was pretty much boundless and politics and the personal feelings of the ruler were not separated). so in practice its really just that if lorenzo had a problem, he could go to magnus, and if magnus made a decision that referred to all warlocks, lorenzo was supposed to follow it. it's nowhere near like, actual subservience. but it's way too much for someone who was raised to be entitled to the level that lorenzo was

so that's why he has this feeling that magnus took something from him - because in his head, everything magnus has, lorenzo should be entitled to. because in his head, any and all power rightfully belongs to him, and if magnus has it, then it has been stolen. and that might not even be conscious of his part or whatever, altho i doubt lorenzo doesn't think in explicitly racist terms at least in private, but that had been ingrained into his head for centuries on end. if it's still ingrained into the heads of white spaniards born TODAY, imagine one who was actually born at the fucking height of racist exploitation

so. yeah. that's why lorenzo is such a jealous bitch. that's why he hates magnus so much - because he feels that magnus having anything at all lorenzo doesn't is theft, and ironically, he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, but believes that he earnt what he has whereas magnus didn't. it's not just jealousy, it's a profound feeling of racist vendetta, and i'm sure the sh writers didn't mean it that way, they were just writing a big villain to bring malec together, but death of the author, baby! and this explanation actually makes sense without having to change anything in canon, so, i feel very comfortable saying that's why lorenzo behaves the way he does

THIS POST IS NOT ABOUT THE BOOKS

[captainmazzic]

Introducing Imperial Major-General Wyrren Harker, and former-Separatist-now-mercenary Falynn J’Kurra. Let’s get a little backstory going under the cut :D

Wyrren Harker is largely an insufferable man. Intelligent and ruthless, he has an obsession with always having the upper hand and of always being the one in control. Spoiled as a child but held to very high standards, he is driven and dedicated to his goals but extremely selfish, arrogant, and just a little vain. He is quite willing to manipulate and intimidate anyone he can to climb out on top, and this has made him more than a little domineering and short-tempered when things don’t quite go the way he envisioned. He is not often deliberately cruel, but his sadistic streak comes out in retaliation if he thinks he has been slighted or wronged. He is extremely confident in his abilities, and that occasionally can make him a little reckless. It also makes him very nearly fearless, and he rarely worries about backlash or the negative consequences of his actions. He is not totally without fear however, and when put in a position where he has no power or is helpless, he very literally has no idea what to do.

Wyrren was raised an only child in a hyper-pro-Republic, career military household. Both parents were higher-ranking officers in the Republic army, and their son got the finest education and training their money and privilege could buy. He graduated academy at the top of his class, climbed the ranks quickly throughout the Clone Wars, and was already one of the youngest officers to be promoted to Lieutenant Colonel by the time the Republic transitioned into the Galactic Empire. Like many in the upper echelons of the military, the change was seamless for him. He continued climbing the ranks, bolstered by affluence, staunch loyalty, and extensive connections. He was promoted to Major-General in 17 BBY, and was placed in charge of an IM-455 Imperial Modular Garrison, to be deployed on the foggy world of Nimat.

Nimat itself is sparsely populated, but its position made it of importance in securing the Imperial presence in the Outer Rim. Nimat is the primary access point of the Nimat Corridor in the Tharin Sector, along the Triellus Trade Route, one of the major trading hyperroutes through the Outer Rim.

Nimat is a dim planet with unusual topography. Much of the world is gently rolling lowlands, dotted with open forest, sluggish rivers, and shallow seas, all perpetually housed in a thick fog. There are occasional pieces of land, only a few dozen in number, that rise above the fog – all flat-topped plateaus ranging in size from a couple square kilometers to nearly 200 square kilometers. On these rare plateaus are the few spaceports and settlements that the planet has to offer. Every inch of these plateaus has been utilized for the tiny population, so the placement of the Imperial Garrison that our freshly-minted Major-General was to command was… tricky. It had to be placed nearly a hundred kilometers away from one of the more sizable spaceports, down among the lowlands and deep within the fog.

Wyrren wasn’t terribly happy with the arrangement, but the fragility of the already-overloaded plateaus and the restrictive topography of the planet prevented any other alternative aside from establishing an Orbital Garrison instead of a land-based one. But that would mean Wyrren would be forced to share commanding duties and power with an Admiral from the Imperial Navy, something he absolutely refused to do. So a land-based Modular Garrison it was, and that’s when all his troubles started…

Falynn J’Kurra is a former Separatist general and strategist from Annoo. He is private, aloof, and very patient, and rarely speaks unless necessary. His reserved and quiet nature often comes across as intimidation, as he has Resting Bitch Face™ and when he does speak his voice is gravelly and rough. But he is surprisingly even-keeled, and it takes a lot for him to actually get angry or raise his voice. Despite this, he does not abide anyone testing his limits and is uncompromising in his morals and tactics. Combined with his natural tendency to being a loner, this often results in a “my way or the highway” kind of mentality and it is difficult for him to take advice from others. This hard-line approach frequently caused him to be at odds with other Separatists while he was within their ranks, and he often went head-to-head with anyone who tried to force his hand – up to and including General Grievous and Count Dooku. Needless to say he was not often included in high-profile decisions or decisive battles. Which suited him just fine, as his focus is in the Outer Rim. His primary goal has always been the betterment and protection of his people, primarily against the Republic and the subsequent Empire. He was a primary associate of the revolutionary Ashaar Khorda on his homeworld. Falynn is an Annoo-dat, differentiated as a Ret or “Annoo-dat Blue” only by xenobiologists. (For reference, Adrestin is also an Annoo-dat, but by the time of the Galactic Empire the two species have long integrated their societies into one and do not differentiate amongst themselves). Being as they are a very long-lived species, Falynn actually remembers the conquering of his home planet of Gelefil by the Annoo-dat Prime and its subsequent renaming to Annoo. It doesn’t matter to him, however, as he is like most of his species and considers both Prime and Blue species of Annoo-dat to be one and the same.

After the Separatist Council was massacred on Mustafar and the Republic formed itself into the Empire, Falynn did not immediately seek out any of the fragmented Separatist holdout groups to join. Disillusioned and jaded, he turned to mercenary work instead, trusting more in his ability to get results on his own without any added people as a responsibility. During his new line of work, he would frequently encounter isolated Rebel cells (as the Alliance to Restore the Republic had not yet been formed), and would often take pay to strategize for them, or fight, or sabotage, or whatever else he happened to offer at the time. He would never fully align with the Rebel Alliance, however, as he has little desire to see the Republic restored back to its old position. He wants only for the Empire to fall, and firmly believes the galaxy would be better off without a centralized seat of power.

But he still helps Rebel cells if they have the credits to pay him, especially if it happens to be close to home. And it is one such Rebel cell on the planet of Nimat that hires him to sabotage a newly-established Imperial Garrison…

--------------------

I FINALLY MANAGED TO POST lol. So here's that Imperial OC I mentioned I wanted to make based on Wesker from Resident Evil a few days ago. Plus the hardass merc. I'm happy. :D

[redxblueihateloveyou]

I'm surprised people see Tadashi as the victim in his relationship with Ainosuke, when it's Tadashi the one who time and time again takes away Ainosuke's agency, without being able to see that he is throwing him unto unhappiness. I can't help but think that if Tadashi was not working at Shindo's house, Ainosuke would have maybe left or broke with the family. But he can't do that if he wants the relationship with Tadashi going on, seing how Tadashi is set on enforcing the family rules...

Hmm.. I def agree with the fact that Tadashi is not what most fandom makes out of him, my man (I mean, Adam’s man) is a 100% Slytherin. But I disagree with blaming him for this, after all the revealed info. The environment they were both raised in made their situation complicated.

I like Tadashi a lot, he’s probably my fav thing about this anime, bc he’s a dark horse, and I’m once again surprised, that so little ppl see him for who he really is, portraying him as an innocent puppy, which he is definitely not.

Now to why I think both Tadashi and Adam are victims of the dad and aunties in this situation. 

We can of course say “if only they told each other how they really feel...”, but like we can say it about any love story really. Every author knows it’s no fun. The truth is that yes, they both hurt each other, and yes, if they were honest about their feelings things would’ve been different, but as I’ve already wrote under that “toxic” commentary on YT, lets look at the whole situation from both of their point of views:

We know that Adam when he was little always treated Tadashi as an equal, he never ever thought of him as someone lower than him and after their fall out, the only reason for this “harsh” treatment (well, besides their confirmed kink) was that Adam tried to get a reaction out of him, so Tadashi would stand up for himself, bc Ainosuke got mad about Tadashi caving to his dad’s wishes and abandoning him, when he needed him the most. 

But now, knowing the fact that Tadashi was his dad’s secretary and was under his control, let’s see it from his perspective: Tadashi wanted to stay by Adam’s side, Adam’s dad implied that if Tadashi did say smth, he’s gonna be.. well, dismissed and they won’t see each other ever again. That’s what caused Tadashi to stay silent in that moment. Ainosuke instead saw this as a “he’s not on my side” thing, well, because. Tadashi won’t tell him his problem, bc dad and aunties control everything, so even if he does tell him, what a teen would do really? He didn’t have any powers back then to make his dad do anything. 

And that’s when it all gone to shit, since they both were hurt for their own reasons. It’s easy to say leave the family, but 1stly nobody explained to Adam still that he’s physically and psychologically abused by his family, he sees it as them “loving him” and sadly also loves them, bc nobody told him, that love wasn’t supposed to be like that really. He definitely feels that smth is not right and feels emotionally exhausted there bc of this treatment, but did he ever consider leaving? I really don’t think so. He feels obligated to be worthy of a family, who “loves” him.

Do you think, for example, that Akashi Seijuro hates his dad for what he did to him? No. Does he understand that he wasn’t at fault for what happened to him and that his dad instead of comforting his child after his mother’s death, who was his only safe haven, made everything worse? I don’t think he does. Like his mom gave him basketball, an escape from all that family’s obligations and strictness. After her death, it was the only thing left that brought him joy, but his dad ruined even that, saying that if he’s gonna be bad at it/lose, he’d take it away from him too. Does Akashi see this as emotional abuse? No, he sees it like “well, I have to be the best bc I was born in such powerful family, so if my dad says that I must be best at everything, then I must.”

I personally hate such parents a lot. To me it doesn’t matter if Adam’s dad didn’t know about aunties hitting his child. Like if he was too busy to notice this and have no time for his kid and made his childhood miserable, it doesn’t make it any better really. 

Same as with Akashi’s dad. Some are like “he was probably also grieving about his wife”. Emm? He was like this from the beginning, bc he treated Akashi not as his son, but as his heir. And yes, that’s different things. Same with Endeavor and Todoroki. Your child is not your post production thing.

2ndly they were too young, even if they knew about each others feelings and he didn’t feel obligated and told everyone to fuck off, they’d be on the streets now, but also Adam’s dad doesn’t seem like a guy who’d leave them alone really. Also eloping seems very romantic, but I don’t think it is, esp when you’re teens. Did you want him to sell some expensive watch and go live on Hawaii or smth? Bc finding a decent job there would be difficult at this age, esp with everyone knowing who your dad is. Chen Ke from “Antidote” survived bc he was 27 and had connections and some great friends. Adam was in high school, where would he go exactly?

Now let’s go back to now. Obviously all this time it didn’t even cross Tadashi’s mind that for Ainosuke he comes first and that he would throw everyone under the bus to make Tadashi stay with him. As we see at the end, he legit believed that Adam was planning to send him to jail and didn’t get that he said it just to shaken he up and that he knew who he’d set up for this from the beginning. 

To Adam obviously it doesn’t matter whether they’re in a quarrel or not, he would never him go. Yes, he’s mad at him, he’s angry and hurt, but Tadashi’s still the person he needs the most, he’s still the person who brightens his days, even tho he deliberately behaves like he annoys him. He always looks at him and looks at him and looks at him, but then hisses smth to hurt him. Bc he knows that he needs him, but he also hates that he needs him, bc he thinks it’s unrequited.

And that’s how their classic romance goes in hellish circles. No one wants to talk as usual. Adam is mad Tadashi is like that bc his dad turned him into a slave with no opinion, while Tadashi is scared that Adam would be taken away from him bc of his ugly family. 

Now I still think that no one and I mean no one can take Tadashi from Adam now, he is his precious. So my plan is... if Tadashi made aunties do smth against him or to get rid of him, aunties will go for sure. The problem is Tadashi still doesn’t get that he comes first, so we’re stuck in this hell still.

So anyways, my point is Adam’s heart basically sings “you got a hold of me, don’t even know your power” to Tadashi, but he doesn’t hear it, bc of his insecurities, the way he was raised and his status. But yes, he holds all the power. He’s both Adam’s sanity and insanity. No matter how cheesy it sounds he was basically his only ray of sunshine in the darkness, if you take it away, that’s what it leads to, that’s why Ainosuke-sama needs more ppl who care for him. I don’t want anyone to die next time, just cause Tadashi and Adam fought about where to put their new couch lmao. I’m kidding, but you know what I mean. And kill the aunties, pls seriously, we need to be free.

Also ppl need to remember that like lots of animes/characters are parcially inspired by some other animes/characters, also the chosen seiyuus are also very important, there are lots of stuff like jokes and references, that creators use, from characters being fully inspired by smth like “Assassination classroom” characters based on KNB, to little stuff like Levi dressed in Akashi’s uniform in chibi AOT bc Hiroshi Kamiya. Utsumi already said before stuff like she sometimes think of a perfect voice for the character and then fully forms him, we also know her clear love for sports animes. So yes, I doubt Tadashi/Kuroko thing is a coincidence and even tho someone was like “zone? is this knb or smth?” I was like no, zone is actually a common thing in sports, even tho most associate it with KNB including me, it’s not like its their invention, but there were things inspired by this for sure, and from other sports animes too and no, I don’t mean the basic sports anime tropes, I mean, like way too specific things, some character designes, too. And yes, Langa appearence and personality wise is a rinharu child for real, I can literally split his scenes in “that’s Haru”, “that’s Rin”.

That’s why I’ve said that this situation in fandom reminds me of Kuroko/Akashi situation a lot, bc same as here in KNB ppl for some reason automatically thought that Kuroko is this innocent sheep and Akashi is the wolf (but also like it was Akashi who chose to dress as red riding hood, while Kuroko was a wolf lmao), not even seeing who is in reality more dangerous and who can easily control who. It just buffles me bc it’s not some deep analisys really. I mean once again there’s a reason for the saying that the sub holds all the power over the dom. 

And like just bc someone yells or threatens ppl constantly doesn’t necessarily mean he is a psycopatic killer, and just bc someone is quiet and doe-eyed, doesn’t mean he isn’t. I didn’t think we needed to explain this to someone, but aparently we do?

And it honestly kills me just how superficially ppl are watching things these days. It really gives me war flashbacks to stuff like the last mdzs s1 episode, where ppl started to comment things like “how LZ can be so heartless” lmao. Or that anonymous ask “do you think haru misses rin?”. Like you don’t see thing at all? Grey substance no needed, while watching things?

P.S. I also would die to see Adam vs Tadashi race just bc I for some reason can bet all my money, that it’s the same situation as with Akashi refusing to ankle break Kuroko, no matter how mad he is. I just can’t imagine Ainosuke hitting Tadashi in the face with a board. Like 100% sure he wouldn’t even try tbh.

[problematicfavesareproblematic]

Boys Who Speak With Silver Luck

Joe Liebgott x Reader

Ok, so THIS is more what I was intending to write for you, @itswormtrain​​! Hope you can learn to forgive me!!

This one is a soul sister/unofficial sequel to ‘You’ve Been Sad (Because I’ve Been Lonely)’ bc I’m bad at doing one shots 

Warnings: SMUT, domesticity, fluff, healthy dynamics, poetry being an aphrodisiac, feels(?)

All poetry mentioned is from the anthology No Thanks by ee cummings, and the title is from the song (inspired by 44 by ee cummings) comes from The Boys Are Too Refined by The Hush Sound

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“I still don’t see how you can read those things.”

 You smirk to yourself, nudging his thigh with your foot as he sits at the foot of the bed. 

In retaliation,  Joe lightly traces the tip of his finger up the arch of your right foot and chuckles when you flinch at the tickle of it, the chuckle becoming a laugh when you lower your book and frown at his mirth.

“And here I thought you were actually wanting to do something nice for me,” you tease, letting him pull your foot back into his lap and watching him smirk as he returns to massaging the sore muscles there. “Should’ve known you were gonna betray me eventually….”

 He scoffs at your theatrics, mumbling a soft apology when you hiss in discomfort as his thumb works on a particularly tight knot just above your heel.

 “Why do you wear those things if they hurt your feet so badly?”

 You furrow your brows at him, resting the book on your stomach as you let a smile play on your lips.

 “They’re called heels, and I wear them because they make my legs look amazing.”

 Joe tilts his head to the side as his face takes on a contemplative expression.

  “‘This is true…” he says with a nod. “You look fuckin’ gorgeous in ‘em.”

 You offer a hmph in smug agreement, picking your book back up and continuing where you left off.

 Tonight had been the night of Chuck’s family’s yearly holiday party, the one night where both you and Joe dressed to the nines and got to rub elbows with people Joe and Chuck lovingly referred to as ‘rich snobs with inherent mommy fetishes’. 

Joe never failed to leave you starstruck when he wore his nicest uniform, and even though you didn’t wear yours, Joe always managed to convince you to pin your Purple Heart and as many unit citations you could fit to the breast of whatever dress you picked out. 

 “Fuckin’ love watching those ignorant fuck’s faces when they realize what a badass my wife is,” he had growled in your ear as you had gotten ready that night. “Gets me harder than a goddamn rock, you got no idea…”

 The two of you had danced and drank and laughed over some of the most amazing food you’d ever tasted. It had been perfect.

More and more things were becoming perfect as time went on and the dark horrific shadows of war began to shrink away under the bright California sunshine. 

It was heartbreakingly nice to see Joe happy, truly happy. He deserved it- you all deserved it.

 A groan of frustration is the only warning you get before Joe crawls up your body and plops himself atop you, the suddenness of the action making you release a grunting giggle. Undeterred by the obvious fact that you’re trying to read, he kisses at your chest through your shirt.

 “Pay” kiss “attention” kiss “to meeee” kiss

 You take one hand from the book to scratch lightly at his scalp, smiling at the sound of him humming in annoyance.

 “What’s in that dumb book that’s got you glued to it, huh? What can big words give you that my big—OW.”

 You cut him off by clunking the book gently against the back of his head, giving him a soft smile when he looks up at you with a frown.

 “You’re so needy,” you chastise hollowly. “Never thought you’d get jealous over something as silly as poetry—”

 Joe rolls his eyes. “Poems are for kids and nerds, don’t get what it is about-” he sits up a bit more so he can see the cover of your book. “Whatever an ee cummings is that’s got you so gaga over it…”

 You raise an eyebrow at him. “Believe it or not, Joseph, I think you’d actually like this guy’s poems—”

 Joe snorts before bringing his head back down to rest on your chest. “Yeah, okay—”

 “Hey,” you challenge, scooting up on your pillows so you can sit up, the movement bringing his head to your ribcage. “I’m serious! If you were to like any sort of poetry, you’d need it to be as sexual and swear-y as you are…. Here, listen-”

 Before he can protest, you flip to the one you had in mind: 44.

 “the boys i mean are not refined 

they go with girls who buck and bite 

they do not give a fuck for luck 

they hump them thirteen times a night

 one hangs a hat upon her tit 

one carves a cross on her behind 

they do not give a shit for wit 

the boys i mean are not refined…”

 “Gimme that!”

 Suddenly, the book is ripped from your hand- and before you can protest you are shocked to see Joe turn the book so he can bury his nose in it. Careful not to be smug about it, you bite back a smile as you watch him mouth the words as he reads. 

 The fact that you’re able to hold in a laugh when his eyebrows shoot up in surprise should make you eligible for another Purple Heart.

 When Joe’s eyes flick up to meet yours, he’s looking at you as if you’ve just done some suspicious slide of hand- intrigued but still somewhat cautious.

 “Well?” you ask. “What did you think?”

 Joe flicks his gaze down to the book again, like he thinks it may have changed somehow when he wasn’t looking.

 “Are they….all like this?”

 You do smile now. “Well, I’m not sure- I haven’t read them all yet.”

An idea pops into your mind as he flips through the pages of the book.

 “If you give it back, I can see if I can find another—”

 Joe suddenly smirks, and when he lifts his face so you can see him, he’s looking like the cat that ate the canary.

“Read this one.”

 Now you’re the hesitant one, taking the book back from him as if it could suddenly turn into a snake.

The poem he’s picked  is one you haven’t read yet, but if it’s one that Joe picked out you can only imagine what the subject matter is.

 “Okay then,” you say slowly, clearing your throat as you cast him a brief look of suspicion before beginning.

 “may i feel said he

 (i'll squeal said she 

just once said he) 

it's fun said she”

 (may i touch said he

 how much said she

 a lot said he) 

why not said she….”

 As you read, Joe’s hands come up to hold your sides as he kisses slowly across your chest, your stomach. Every so often, his thumbs smooth upward to rub across your shirt-covered  nipples, and you can feel him smile as he kisses at you.

 Your shirt has bunched up, revealing your hips and the sensitive skin between them. Your cheeks feel hot, and your mouth suddenly becomes dry as his lips drag between your hip bones promisingly.

His hair tickles your skin when he begins mouthing lower, to the waistband of your underpants.

 “Y/N?”

 “Yeah?” you sigh, tongue wetting your bottom lips as you begin to breathe heavier.

 “Keep reading.”

 Oh. You hadn’t realized that you’d stopped.

Clearing your throat, you blink a few times before finding the place you left off.

 “Uh, (let's go said he 

not too far said she 

what's too far said he 

where you are said she)

 may i stay said he 

(which way said she 

like...like this said he 

I-if you kiss said she- shit, Joe….”

 Joe’s warm hands have worked your underwear down your hips and around the swell of your bottom, and the heat of his breath across the thinner skin that he’s exposed has you losing focus again.

Because he’s nothing if not a consummate tease, he doesn’t do anything more than kiss only a sliver of the newly revealed skin.

 “Y/N…” he reminds you, nipping lightly at you when you groan in frustration. “I think there’s still some to go—”

 Your heart is thrumming in your chest, and it takes you a few seconds to find where you left off this time.

 “M-may i move said he

 is it love said she) 

if you're…..uh, if you’re willing said he 

(but….. you're killing said she….”

 The words have started to dance across the page, a whine coming from somewhere deep in your chest at the first touch of his fingers to the slick lips of your sex.

You’ve officially lost your place, now. You just pick the stanza your eye catches first and hope for the best.

 “(tiptop said he 

don't stop said she

 oh no said he) 

go slow said she- fuuuuuck…..

 I-(cccome?said he….goddamn it Joe, please!”

 You throw the book off to the side, sweat beading on your brow from how deliberately cruel Joe is being as he continues massaging at you. When Joe sees that you’ve started to shake, he lunges up the bed to wrap a hand around the back of your neck and kisses you messily- your teeth clacking together briefly as he buries his fingers inside of you and immediately finds the place that never fails to ruin you.

 Clinging to the front of his shirt, you squeeze your thighs together as a delicious tremor rolls up your body from where you’ve trapped his hand. You’re so worked up you almost want to cry, the heat in your lower belly almost bowing your back.

 “Does that feel good, Baby?” he mumbles against your lips. “Who is it that’s making you feel this good, huh?”

 You make an incoherent noise, quickly wrapping am arm around his shoulders to try and bring his mouth back to yours, mewling in frustration when he refuses to do so.

 “Ungh! Joe, I’m begging you!”

 “Say it again,” he says darkly, and if you had the strength to open your eyes you’d see just the power-drunk way he is looking down at you. “Do it—”

 “Joe! Joe Joe Joe Joe Joe….”

 You chant his name like a prayer, your voice dying in your throat as he starts using his palm to stimulate your neglected clit.

 With a silent scream, you come apart, head lolling back as he continues to coax you through your orgasm, dimly aware of the praise being kissed across your chin as he refuses to relent the punishing paste he’s established.

 Your face is throbbing with the strength of your thudding heart when he finally starts to slow down, your body still bowing and writhing as he begins to coo down at you sweetly, capturing your lips with his as your shaking starts to subside and your sweat begins to cool.

 “Good girl,” he sighs into your mouth. “You’re such a good girl for me….”

 You don’t reply- can’t reply.  Joe’s reduced you into a boneless mess of a woman.

 When you do eventually open your eyes, Joe is smiling down at you with an obvious affection that threatens to get your heart racing once more. Not taking his eyes from yours, he gently slides his fingers from your still-fluttering sex and makes a show of licking them clean. 

 With a mischievous wink, he uses his other hand to smooth your hair from your forehead before carefully rolling so he’s laying beside you, his shoulder pressed against your as he chuckles.

 “Huh, whaddaya know,” he says after he releases one of his fingers from between his lips with a lewd pop. “Guess poetry isn't that bad.”

 Using all of your energy, you turn your head to give him the weakest glare you think you’ve ever given.

 “When….when I can breathe witho’ havin’ to think about it so hard, I’m gon’ make you cum til you pass out.”

 Joe gives you a smiling kiss.

“And I’ll let you….once we finish round two.”

 Well, looks like I’ll be going back to the bookstore sooner than I thought.

~ ~ ~ Taglist: @mrseasycompany​ @itswormtrain​ @mrsalwayswrite​ @happyveday​ @sunsetmando​ @teenmagazines​ @liebgotttme​

[ohcoolnice]

Okay so some people (read: one person, and it may have been jokingly) asked me to continue so y'all Imma break down some of my favorite scenes that I'm thinking of off the top of my head:

Starting off with episode 1:

holy hell so many SO MANY scenes but i'm going to start with the scene where Pablo's men come to kill Vincenzo.

Right before this we have the shot with Vincenzo sitting alone on his couch. He's thinking. Close-up on the lighter and all that (SERATONIN). Then parallel to the dark, empty same room, it's nighttime.

Now we've seen so little of Vincenzo but we know he's clever, and we also know that if he was sleeping, we would get that shot. Camera isn't here to trick us (well, not yet anyways), the camera is here to trick them. They think he's sleeping. He's not.

And the shot when he's coming out of the bathroom: SO MANY THINGS HERE:

- first of all, stunning, gorgeous, brilliant.

- secondly, let's talk wardrobe, because this is what I live for rn. The costume design in this show good lord:

- He's in pyjama's. GOOD GOD HE IS IN PJ'S. Why is this such a big deal to me? Think of James Bond movies, or really any movie with a similar scene. The assailant would be dressed in a suit or at least daytime clothes. So they could leave after. But the SHEER AUDACITY of this man showing up in his silks, sweeping the robe wide around him when he spins, and then shooting his would-be killers without changing his expression, not even BLINKING when the gun goes off (idk how sjk does this time after time but that's massive testament to his acting as well).

- the pj's are so symbolic of his character. This shit is his life. He knew it was coming, he didn't give any shits. It wasn't hurried, he didn't at the last minute hide pillows under the blankets: no no no. BOY WAS WAITING UP FOR THESE DUDES and fully was ready to just go back to sleep after. Gives no shits. It's kill or be killed, so he's adapted and accepted it's his life. Later in the show when they're betrayed, Cha-young asks Vincenzo if this (them being betrayed) doesn't bother him.

"I'm used to it." is his expressionless answer. GOD. So genius.

Now i don't like talking about this because I don't want to spoil for anyone who hasn't seen the show so SPOILER WARNING for the early episodes IM SERIOUS LOOK AWAY.

k cool.

so Junwoo. What caught my eye in episode 4 was not only his shirts but the angle at which he is shot at. Now this might just be me reading into it but i don't think so. Everything (mostly) is deliberate in this show, and shots are so carefully chosen i refuse to believe it's a mistake.

Before filming, camera angles are measured in reference to actors and the scene, to get their "good side" or to capture the feel of the scene and whatnot etc. SO tell me I'm crazy when all of a sudden we're no longer getting these simple, leveled shots of junwoo, but all of a sudden the angle is lower, or higher, we see him from what I feel is close to cha-young's eye level, and the shadow and lighting in the scene gives him a sharper profile, highlights the fact that he's buff.

I remember saying out loud to myself while watching for the first time "why is this random intern dude so buff" and then putting it down initially to just the actor being buff. And then I was wondering why they wouldn't just cast someone whose body fit the personality a bit more.

And then the end of the episode came and i instantly got it. That simple change in shot forces you to focus more on that character, even if it's irrelevant or brief, that character is now in the back of my mind. and as the blur subsides at the end of the episode and he's revealed, IT"S A SLOW SHIFT IN BLUR, but you KNOW for a good part of it, who it is. And during the shift you have time to think about that scene, or any scene with him, but you look and you think "oh shit. I should have known."

phenmominal. I love that so much.

And (last one okay sorry i know these long posts are probably annoying) I mentioned in the last post about the camera being the narattor. Don't believe me just yet?

Let's look at the scene where we find out Mr. Nam has been listening to their plan the whole time (episode 4 i think?). You think nothing of it because the whole scene is shot like a normal scene, you genuinely believe that the characters you see are the only characters in the scene. And because that's what they also believe, and we're still getting to know them, that makes sense. We see what they see from episodes 1-4 because after that point, everything is revealed, and we know everything (basically) we need to know about these characters, and now the show can really begin.

So when Mr. Nam pops up, yes, it's comedic, but you're also kind of startled because it's been hidden from you too, and it's yet again another warning: Pay attention. There's more going on than what you see.

SO BRILLIANT. SO ASJDKHASLKJD.

I might be overanalysing okay but I've wanted a show this ingenious for my entire existence it's so goddamn perfect.

So much 🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌🤌 when I think about this show. I literally watch and just 🤌🤌🤌🤌

[bottomharrykingdom]

(1) I don’t mean to be rude or ignorant, I just come from a sheltered upbringing and just want to understand and learn. Harry being transgender confuses me. Obviously he hasn’t confirmed his gender or sexuality to us explicitly. I just don’t see how he’s transgender because he’s not becoming or going to be in future, a women. Also could calling him transgender not be offensive? Not in a transgender is bad way but assuming his femininity means he want to be a women...

(2) my gay friend finds it upsetting that just because he’s feminine people assume he wants to be a women. Could speculating his gender be offensive to Harry? Once again I really don’t mean to upset anyone, I genuinely just want to learn and be more open minded. I’m really sorry if I’ve offended anyone through my questioning! Just to clarify and I may not fully understand it but I don’t think transgender is bad or anything, you should be authentically yourself!! Please help me learn!

Hi! You're not being offensive at all, it's really great that you're trying to educate yourself 💖

Trans is an umbrella term for anyone who isn't cisgender, not just a term for those transitioning from their birth gender to another. So when we call Harry trans we aren't calling him a woman, we're saying he could identify as pretty much anything that isn't cis! The reason we call him trans specifically is because he used a trans flag on the cover of Fine Line.

People have been theorizing that he isn't cis for years, but it wasn't until Harry identified with the trans flag himself that people started using 'trans'.

The reason Harry's album is believed to have references to his gender identity isn't part of an invasive conspiracy theory, it's interpreting the queer coding deliberately present in his art. If you look further there are many references to transhood in Harry's music and appearance, from using trans and nonbinary colors, to referencing books with trans themes, to working with artists who push for gender nonconformity. Harry doing all of this is a form of queer coding, a core part of LGBT culture in which queer people communicate their identities with each other in a way that keeps them safe from society's prejudice against them.

Many people are under the impression that if Harry were really trans he would say it outright. That the person who releases intimate music and refuses to explain the meanings would one day give a lengthy interview explaining his gender identity, and that we must wait for this day to say he's trans. That society has become so accepting of the LGBT community that his wellbeing and career would face no negative consequences. And that because of this any belief that he's trans is absurd. But they couldn't be more wrong.

If you aren't aware, LGBT people are the largest target of violence in the world. As progressive as you may think society has become towards the LGBT community, 2017 recorded the highest number of single-homicide related deaths in the LGBT community since 1996. The majority of those deaths? Trans people. The average lifespan of a trans person is just 30 years. Rejecting the possibility that Harry isn't comfortable with the world knowing he's trans, and would find solace in hidden messages and symbolism that register to trans people as a way to safely communicate with them, is a cruel trivialization of the actual risk of harm trans people face and the subsequent fear for their safety at the hands of the public.

With that said, no one thinks Harry is trans just because he's feminine. In fact, most of the things that make people believe he's trans have nothing to do with femininity. Femininity is not inherent to any gender. No one thinks Harry is trans because he wears nail polish and did two photoshoots last year in a dress and fishnets. That's very silly! And the trans people who recognize their experiences as trans people in Harry are not silly at all.

If you want to understand where the belief comes from, check out these masterposts 1, 2, 3 and our 'trans harry' tag! Our 'femme' tag also includes all the references to Harry being feminine and/or doing something relating to the female gender.

There's years of instances, really! It isn't any individual one that indicates Harry is trans, but the collection of them as a whole. A single puzzle piece doesn't show you anything, but when you put enough of them together the full picture is revealed! It's important to see all of these instances as a unit, and not argue over the implications of one single reason. Gender is a complex thing and everything can mean different things to all of us! Trans people are very aware of this. It has been through careful and mindful observations of Harry that have lead them believing certain actions have particular ties to gender.

Beeing trans is a wonderful thing! A small group of fans believing Harry is trans could never hurt him. The conversation comes from a place of so much love and support! There's a lot to learn and none of us can really know anything for certain, but what's important is keeping an open mind and supporting trans people. Because whether that includes Harry or not, you're still supporting trans people! And in the end, that's what matters most 💖