#so i am a believer <- utterly delusional

[slliest-clownmari]

i can't believe we already have our first aro ace character thats crazy thats nuts

[blackbirdsblackberries]

What about reader x yandere bat family (platonic) but reader gave up on the family super fast like damian joined the family attacked the reader with the sword reader got hurt next time damian tried it he got throwen into a wall by reader with reader saying that is it I am leaving this shit family and sure jason might be bat mans greatest failure am I (reader) bruce waynes greatest failure!!!

Ahhh! I love this, I would honestly do the same as well! Like you neglect me then don't discipline your newest addition when he attacks me??

It has been six months since you left the manor, what did they expect? Honestly you were only waiting until you turned legal age to move out. Though you wouldn't lie and say you were still clinging onto the hope that they'll love you.

You've left your angst behind, what good is hating someone who doesn't remember you exist? You've made peace with it, you know you're loved by friends and the people who truly matter.

Saying that, it is befuddling when you hear a knock on the door at two in the morning and it's Red Hood there with take-out from Batburger. You aren't surprised or concerned they found your address, they're world's greatest detectives for a reason after all. If anything you're confused as to why one of them pays a visit.

Red Hood had taken your silence upon opening the door as a welcome and limps slightly into your apartment and collapses on the worn down couch. All while you stand at the open door, flabbergasted. Whether it's at the nerve of him to invite himself in or at the fact he's hear, injured, in costume and has take-away like it's an average night you can't decide.

You settle with both.

You hear him grunt and you quickly close the door and walk over to him, eyes narrowed. He looks at you, judgmentally. His helmet thrown into a corner of the room and a burger in his hands. Some of the sauce drips onto the couch and he swipes it up with his hand.

"You look like shit." Is all he says and you have to refrain yourself from punching him. If anything he looks like shit! You just woke up!

"What are you doing here." You ask, you weren't going to get into a petty argument over a comment from a stranger you once knew.

"Takin' ya back to the manor, duh." He says as if it was obvious and he takes another bite of his burger. You blank, what does he mean by that? Is he serious? Does he actually believe you want to go? Maybe he has amnesia and thought you two got along and you didn't blow up at the family and slap Tim? Either way you can't let him continue thinking like that.

"No. The fuck is wrong with you? Why would I go to a stranger's place?" The last part causes Jason to snap his head to you, his eyes narrowing.

"Strangers? We're you're family." You scoff at that, how much head trauma does he have? "Absolutely not. Do you not remember the whole blow up I had a couple months ago?"

"Mistakes happen."

... What? Mistakes happen? It wasn't a mistake! It doesn't matter how he meant it. Neglecting someone for most of their life isn't a mistake. That person then blowing up and leaving because they were mistreated isn't a mistake.

"Excuse me? Mistakes happen? Fucking get out of my apartment!" Okay, you lied earlier, you're still in your teenage angst phase - though it's definitely justified.

Jason sighs as if he's talking to a toddler who wanted a toy they couldn't have.

"Don't be so emotional. Your blow up earned our respect and we want you back. We let you play pretend for a couple months and now you need to get out of fantasy land and return home to your family."

Your jaw drops, what else could it do? You just heard the most insane thing come out of a stoic man's mouth. He was completely serious. Delusional. Utterly delusional.

"You prick! I don't think you understand. You guys fucked up and I don't want anything to do with your family- hey! Listen to me you zombie!" Jason was back to eating his burger, ignoring you. He throws a wrapped burger at you and you fumble with it.

You bite the inside of your cheek, he's more of a child then anyone you know! You throw the burger back down onto the table and glare at Jason.

"You don't get it. Of course you don't. Batman failed you, someone who you had a "co-workers" type relationship. You are Batman's biggest failure. But Bruce, he failed me. I am his biggest failure. I was forgotten about, looked down upon, left out, I suffered. And you know what's amazing? You were able to get revenge and end up loved but me, I couldn't get revenge, I'm not a villain of any kind! You say you and the family respect me so act like it and leave me be. I want nothing to do with any of you guys. Get out of my apartment and never return-"

Before you could finish Jason stands up and heads to the bathroom and takes a medkit out. You narrow your eyes, your fists clenched into balls and frustrated tears start to build in your eyes.

"Heard ya loud and clear so don't throw a tantrum! Just found it dumb how you think that." He states as he walks back to the couch and opens the medkit. "Now, care to tend to your older brother's wounds?"

You want to scream, cry, curse and stab this man in the face a million times. Instead you walk over and grab out disinfectant, you hate that you're doing this but you won't let him get an infection from his wounds.

You start to tend to his wounds and he speaks up again. "I get it. I do. We fucked up and it affected your childhood, we all had it rough and you didn't deserve that. But, give us a chance, you're a Wayne by blood, you won't be able to stay away from Gotham so why not live nicely in the manor? You could finally have what you wanted, you could finally have a family."

"Three big brothers, two younger brothers, an older sister, a dad! Don't you want to be loved by us? Don't you want our protection? We went through your diaries, we read every word. How you wished you could go to one of our rooms when you have a nightmare, how you wish for movie nights, how you want to be able to call us your family. Let us show you we had a change of heart, that we do want that with you now - that we always did but couldn't see it. Let us be your closest group-"

You slap him. What else was there to do? Tears pour down your cheeks.

"I thought I told Alfred to get rid of them..." You mutter. You never planned for them to read your diaries, to know your wants.

You hear Jason sigh before the sound of him pressing a button on his communicator, it's the last thing before your vision fades to black. He wishes he didn't have to resort to using the sticky device he stuck to your shirt when he threw the burger but it was clear you weren't listening.

Waking up with a pounding headache and no memories of last night is usually something that happens when people get wasted but you don't drink - you're underaged.

You groan as you open your eyes and take in your surroundings. It's a fancy bedroom - too fancy, too big. There's a picture hung up of the Wayne family with a picture of you taped to it to make it seem like you were in the picture.

You immediately panic and sit up, the bed is too big, the lights are too bright, the whole room is too much. You stand up and make your way to the door and put your ear against it for noise. You hear footsteps approaching and run back to bed and pretend to still be asleep.

The door opens and you hear a deep chuckle - Bruce's chuckle. He stalks over to the bed and gently runs a hand through your hair.

"Honey, I know you're awake. Don't be afraid, Dad's here now..." He coos. You open your eyes and move away from him, he frowns and sighs slightly. "I'm sorry, I know we should have gotten you back home sooner you just looked like you were having so much fun..."

He was acting like you living on your own was just a play-pretend? That you genuinely did it for fun? What is his problem?!

"Let me go! I swear to god Bruce, if you don't let me go I'll claw your eyes out!" You yell, Bruce tuts and shakes his head. "It's Dad to you. Now stop throwing a tantrum and come along, brunch is ready - you slept through breakfast."

With that he pulls you up from the bed and gently rests his hand between your shoulder blades and leads you downstairs to the dining room where everyone is; The head of the table reserved from Bruce, on the left it goes Dick, Tim, Cass and on the right it goes Jason, Duke, Damian, other end of the table.

You're led by Bruce and sit at the end of the table next to Damian who doesn't look at you and Cass who stares at you intently.

The stares from the others makes you want to vomit. Dick looks at you with pure adoration like he's looking at a defenseless puppy, Jason looks at you like how you'd look at a cute video of an animal, Tim looks at you calculatingly and Duke looks at you with a faint smile, his eyes a mix of emotions you don't want to decipher.

When Damian finally looks up it isn't with an irritated look, it's one of protectiveness, possessiveness and something akin to anger and guilt mixed together.

Clearly you've somehow imbedded yourself into their hearts, or atleast a version of you they created in their heads imbedded itself into their hearts and they weren't going to let you go any time soon.

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Hear me out ..yandere Macaque hcs …seriously love the way you write him ; maybe this reader lost her destiny one or maybe Macaque found reader first before the other monkeys did 👀 love to see what you come up with please 💗 if your not doing requests no worries you can ignore this :)

(Me: People here love this dude...

Destined One: I've noticed that...)

1) When he first met you, he knew what you were and why you were sent there. Of course he knew, because he met so many before you. The only difference was that you were fresh out of the change, unaware of everything that was around and so utterly alone.

It was just so good to be true; the new Bián huá was completely at his mercy, and of course he was ready to take advantage of that.

You were just so adorable, alone, and so afraid, ready to be eaten by the First Yaoguai lucky enough to catch you. And he was, of course, your sworn protector, a monkey that wanted nothing but help you! You just needed to do something for him, helping him find some magical staff that would help you send you back!

He had May lie—just a little.

He just needed to find the relics, take back his full power, get rid of you, and then boom, he was ready to be free...but you changed everything.

The more time he had stayed by your side, the more he became attached. He started to care; he started to crave your attention and your kindness, and soon he carved for more.

He started to make a few changes to his plan, like finding a way to let you live forever, to let him love you like you deserved, to be yours like he wanted you to be his. 

If it wasn't for that damn destined one...

Not only had he been searching for you, following that connection you two were supposed to have, but he needed to tell you the truth!

He was able to get the both of you away from that other one, but now he wasn't your beloved friend; now he was on the list that had played all this time.

"YOU TRICKED ME! ALL THIS TIME IT WAS JUST A LIE?!"

"Darling, please...calm down. Let me explain." You smacked away his hand. Your eyes are full of rage and tears.

"DON'T YOU DARLING ME! You said you wanted to help me! You were just playing all along!"

You started to walk away, trying to get more distance from him and yourself...only to feel then his sharp claws clutching your head and crashing you on the ground.

"I am helping you... by doing what I must."

2) He'll take you to your new home...with the right adjustment.

Oh, you can run free as much as you like! Just be careful not to fall from the cliff that surrounded the small mountain that you were on! The air there is amazing, and no one can brother you there! The only bridge that could have helped you cross the precipice has been cut off!

You can't go anywhere, and he's aware of that.

He'll give you time and space; he's not that delusional to believe that you won't scream and try to do some crazy stunt when he's around. He'll bring food! He'll make sure you're okay until he'll be sure that you won't act crazy with him!

But you really needed to give him that cold shoulder after all that time?

You'll ignore him for days. No matter what he does, you just kept your mouth shut and your attention on a wall...

You really know how to push his buttons, uh?

"Came on... I know you can't stay silent forever."

"..."

"Listen, I know this is not your plan of life, but believe me! It's still something! You were complaining about how full and boring your life was before, right? Now you're-"

"Trap ... It was boring, but I was free... and i REALLY don't want to be here with you now."

He gritted his teeth, feeling so many emotions in his chest. Before storming out the door of the house, he takes one time to look at you.

"All right! Let's see how much you'll miss me in a week!"

In fact, for a week, food didn't come at all.

3) He loved your stubbornness and your strength, but now it was just so annoying. Why can't you just give up?!

Stop resisting! Isn't it painful to just suffer?! If you just loved him like he wanted your tò do, then it would be so easy! But nooo, you have to play hard to get it, right?!

And let's not mention the so many escape attempts that you had made! How many times did he have to catch you?! How many times did he have to prove to you how dangerous the world was?! How many times he had to brind you the next monkey head before you understood that no one is omg to save you?!

You kept on biting and scratching his hand while he was dragging you back to the house. It wasn't painful at all. It was just boring... It hurt his heart, on the other hand.

"I don't want to! Stop! LET me go!"

He had enough. 

He pushed you on the ground, his foot stomping over your arm. Just near the shoulder.

"What are you?"

"I guess that I was too soft on you." You started to feel pressure on your arm; the pain started to grow second by second. "I need to be harder from now on."

You started to scream, scratching his foot, and punched him, but he didn't bulge a little. He kept on pushing and pushing until

CRACK.

You felt the sound of your bones cracking between the flashes of your arm. Before you could scream in pain, he was already down, his hand on your mouth, and his razor teeth near your ear.

"Does it hurt? Don't worry, I'll make it go away."

The same teeth that were caressing your ear were now deep in your flesh.

A missed arm was a good reminder of what he could do.

4) Were you finally accepting him? 

Where have you finally given up?

He didn't want to hurt you, but you were so difficult.

He'll heal you; he'll take care of you like he had promised. Your arm can't come back; it's better this way, but he'll be there, as he had promised.

He'll kiss every scratch and every wound that he has inflicted. He'll make sure you're loved and cherished by him.

"I love you," he whispers, kissing your neck and savoring your scent. "I need more than you think. I'll never let you go..."

Never such sweet words were so full of poison.

@sun-jglim @crimsonflameproxy @everlastingmoonlightsworld

@miraclecherryblossomsblog @certifiedsimpinggalore @sleepingdramaqueen @cromboloni @masksandfeathers

@cinnamonroll-anon @justrandomlypassing @cute-angi @luckyangelballoon @dressycobra7

@naarra @virtualexpertanchor @phoenixeclipse-lmkau @szynkaaa @kirax-the-lazy-girl

@sleepydang @weaverworks @kishimiest @marcu-bug @thepoweroffiction

@riolu4 @angryvampire @s0rr3l @rootin-tootin-morgan @lightlumi

@cleverfeststarlight @anfie01

@tunadunanana @jeminiikrystal @jssy96

@ladydoe8 @universallyweaselwobblermuffin @redtailedkitsune @blackknight-kai @black-star1472

@rovobeam

[bellabean24]

✩ Boxer!Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reporter!Reader

✩ Word Count: 544

✩ Tags: SFW, first person POV, the article the reader had wrote, I have read one to many Mike Tyson and Muhammad Ali articles to get this right my brain hurts 😩, comment to be added to tag list

✩ Synopsis: You finally published your article

✩ Boxer!Ryomen Sukuna M.List | Jujutsu Kaisen M.List

Sports Magazine 

Ryomen Sukuna: The King of the Ring. Boxing’s Most Dangerous Man or Its Biggest Problem?

By: Y/N  L/N

March 12th 12:22 am

There are fighters, there are champions, and then there’s Ryomen Sukuna—an athlete so dominant and aggressive in the ring that he has become both a sensation and utterly unbothered by the criticism surrounding him, Sukuna has built his career on destruction. With each fight, he adds another name to his KO’s list, and yet, despite his success, the conversation around him remains divided; but mostly praises are among him. 

Is he a once—in—a—generation fighter? Like Masamichi Yaga. Or just a brute force riding a wave of power until he finally meets someone who can break him?

A Fighter Who Doesn’t Play By the Rules

Sukuna doesn’t just win fights—he ends them. His style of fighting is raw, aggressive, and unforgiving (to some people); relying on sheer strength and an almost inhuman ability to take a punch. Some call it reckless, others call it brilliant. He calls it lightwork. 

“People like to overcomplicate boxing,”  Sukuna once told me during our interview, leaning back in his chair with the kind of arrogance that makes you want to punch him in the face, even though you know your punch won’t land. “At the end of the day, the guy that hits harder wins. And no one hits harder than me.” Arrogance! 

It’s hard to dispute that. His knockout ratio is phenomenal, his fights rarely last five rounds, and so far, no one has found a way to stop him. But while his fans admire his brutal efficiency, critics say his brawler mentality lacks the technical skill needed for true longevity in the sport. 

An Ego as Big as His Punch 

Sukuna is a fighter who thrives on confidence—so much so that it often borders on infuriating. He knows he’s good; amazing even, and he doesn’t shy away from reminding people of it, whether it’s in the ring, during press conferences, or in interviews where he spends more time flirting than answering questions. 

“Be honest,” he smirked at me halfway through our conversation, “You came here expecting to be impressed.” 

I informed him that I was here to do my job, not to admire his charm. He laughed in my face, unconvinced. Arrogance. That’s the thing about Sukuna—he’s convinced he’s already won, no matter what game he is playing. 

The Unstoppable Force…Until He’s Not? 

For all his power and dominance, the question lingers: what happens when Sukuna finally meets an opponent who won’t crumble under his power? Some argue that his reliance on brute strength will be his downfall. Others believe he’s just getting started. 

His next fight is rumored to be against a veteran known for his technical precision, who came out of retirement just to beat him. This might be the challenge he needs to silence the doubters—or prove them right. 

When I asked him if he was worried, or scared that someone might eventually beat him; he only grinned. “Worried? Sweetheart, I feel bad for the guy. He’s stepping in the ring with me.”  Delusional. 

Love him or hate him, who cares, one thing is perfectly clear: Ryomen Sukuna isn’t just fighting opponents—he’s fighting the entire sports expectations. And, for now, he’s winning

Tag list:

@emoedgylord

©Bella2025

[homunculus-argument]

It's actually kind of funny how much brain space you can free just by adopting the principle of "if it's not hurting anybody, it's probably fine". If you don't know whether you should or should not do something, pause and try to figure out who's going to get hurt if you do that. If you struggle trying to come up with any imaginary hypothetical person who would be harmed by whatever you're doing, you're probably not going to benefit from listening to that doubting voice telling you that you're not allowed to do that.

Once I learned how to make friends and started finding people who actually liked me and supported me, my family started warning me about surrounding myself in toxic echo chambers that uncritically affirm and validate whatever I'm telling them, and believing whatever they say. Of course the people who have only heard my side of the story would believe whatever I'm telling them and side with me, they haven't heard their side of what happened. That it's unfair of me to poison people against them by telling people how they make me feel, when they aren't there to argue in their own defense. That family needs to be there to tell you the hard things about yourself and criticise the things you're doing, because strangers don't love you enough to tell you to stop doing ugly and cringe things, and correct you when you're being embarrassing.

That losing yourself into uncritical echo chambers of blind support and affirmation, without being held back by the leash of the critical eye of your family is bad because.... Yes, why? Who is being harmed if I do so? Am I being harmed by being surrounded by people who are utterly delusional in their opinion that I am fun and likeable? Who don't tell me when I am acting sickeningly wrong because they don't have the decency to smack me for doing that? Who never make me cry by telling me about every single thing that I am always doing wrong?

Who is harmed by my happiness? Why is it wrong to surround myself with people who are utterly delusional in their belief that I'm not a bad person? Why not entirely lose my grasp of reality as my family sees it, and believe them?

[watarfallar]

I don't know what to put for a title...INCORRECT QUOTES!

BigB: Are you drunk? Impulse: Only on the spirit of Christmas! Pearl: And the spirit of whisky.

Skizz: Three of the four elements are represented as types of hockey. Air hockey, ice hockey, and field hockey. Fire hockey needs to be a thing. Scar: Fire hockey absolutely does NOT need to be a thing. BigB: Do you care NOTHING for the balance of the four elements?!

Gem: What must it be like to live in your head? Are there happy ponies in there? It’s really something how utterly delusional your optimism is. If I didn’t hate you so much, I might even be impressed. Martyn: Huzzah! I got a heavily qualified and slightly sarcastic compliment from Gem!

Etho: But when all hope seemed lost, I had an epiphany! Etho, earlier: I'm going to throw myself into the sea.

Joel: I hate Scar. Pearl: "Hate' is a strong word. Joel: I have strong opinions.

Impulse: I am strong! I beat Jimmy at arm wrestling! BigB: Anyone can beat Jimmy at arm wrestling! Jimmy: Hey-

Grian: Hey, I see those leaves, where are you from? Impulse: Illinois. Grian: AAYYYE, I KNEW IT! ME TOO! Ren: Did you just identify a state by looking at its leaves.

BigB, when Scott walks in: Oh, hey, I'm just making pizza. BigB: *accidentally smacks Ren in the face with the baking sheet*

Grian: *walks into the kitchen, ignoring everyone* Martyn: Hey, Grian, how was your day? Grian: *picks up an onion and bites into it, staring at Martyn* Hell. Mumbo, watching this unfold: *whispers* Who hurt you?

Martyn: It’s impossible to make a sentence without using the letter A. Scar: Despite your thinking, it is quite possible, yet difficult, to form one without the specific letter. Here’s one more to further disprove your theory. Joel: Fuck you.

Etho: Are you ever going to listen to me? Ren: Yes. Absolutely. Etho: When? Ren: When you're right.

Skizz, teaching Grian to drive: Okay Grian, what does a green light mean? Grian: Go! Skizz: A red light? Grian: Stop! Skizz: And what about a yellow light? Grian: If you floor it, you can make it! Skizz: …No—

Lizzie: We are gathered here today because someone- *glares at Bdubs’s coffin* -couldn’t stay alive!

Martyn: What if we were stranded on a desert island? Who would you eat? Jimmy: Etho. Martyn: So fast? Wh-what about me? I would eat you! Jimmy: That’s very nice, I guess. Martyn: Why wouldn’t you eat me? I’m your best friend. Jimmy: Look, if other people are having some, I’ll try you.

Tango: Say no to drugs. Gem: Say yes to drugs. Jimmy: It doesn't matter if you say yes or no to drugs. If you're talking to drugs.. then you're on drugs.

Impulse: "What are you into?" is such a broad question, like do I reply with a TV series or choking?

Lizzie: There. How do I look? Jimmy: Like a cheap French harlot. Lizzie: French?!

BigB: My dad died when I was little so whenever someone jokes about fucking my mom I’ll pretend to be really sincere and say some shit like “Glad to see she’s moving on, my dad’s death hit her pretty hard.” Then watch them absolutely fumble trying to figure out a response to that statement. BigB: Update, she got a new partner I can no longer make the joke.

Cleo: It'll be fun. Cleo: We'll make a day of it. Cleo: Come on you punk bitch. Scar: I can't believe I have to say this. Scar: I don't have time to get tested for sti's with you tomorrow.

Grian: Capitalization is the difference between "I had to help my uncle Jack off a horse.." and "I had to help my uncle jack off a horse.."

Scar: I haven’t lost my virginity. Jimmy: Because you have no friends? Scar: No... because I never lose!

Lizzie: *banging a pen on the table out of frustration* Gem: Stop that. How would YOU feel if I banged you on the table? Lizzie: I— Lizzie: I don’t know the correct answer to that question.

[kanmom51]

Missing Jikook today

Not that I don't miss them every single day, but just saying...

@wonsummernight Miss your edits!!!!!! I know there isn't any new Jikook content just yet, but if there was a time we were in dire need for some heart wrenching Jikook edits, this is it!!!

Basically, this is me telling you "PLEASE COME BACK". 💜💜

So, I came today to cry a little, you know commiserating together with others takes the edge off a bit (note to self: keep telling yourself that, and you might start believing it too...), but also to remind y'all that SM is crap, a viper pit, a cec pool, where all the miserably unhappy ignorant assholes tend to flock to (this is about the assholes that have turned sm into such a place), either to create drama that will get them some much needed attention they aren't getting elsewhere, or to create a parallel universe where their dreams and wants come true, even if they have zero standing in reality. Oh, and I forgot those that are there to make some hard cash, by all means.

And why am I mentioning all of this, you may ask?

Well, because for some reason my hopes and dreams for a fandom cleanse are being shattered as we speak.

As you may already know, I've taken a step back lately. mainly distancing myself from SM, as it's been going downhill for ages now, but has become an even uglier place to visit in the past few months, I'd say ever since it's been known that JK and JM are enlisting TOGETHER and will be serving TOGETHER, basically being in each other's close vicinity 24/7 for 18 months (even if not sharing exact same duties within the unit) and spending off time together . And to clarify once again: Same unit, same posting (base), different duties within the unit.

You'd think that 3 months in, and after the initial shock, reality and truth would set in (even with the most delusional) that these two young men CHOSE to enlist together (free choice and steps taken by both of them to achieve this). And once again me reminding they are the only ones in the group to decide they want to do this and the only idols to ever do so.

But no. Who am I kidding? Probably wishful thinking on my part. You know, that these people will either wake up, smell the roses and just cope with reality, or plain and simply piss off (that's probably me being delusional at this point).

Point being, it's gotten even worse. Like who would have believed that would happen? Yeah, probably should have seen it coming though. When you have cult behavior, when you have those that profit off it (monetarily or otherwise), I should have known it would go this way. The need to dive even deeper into the filth of this earth, to create even dumber narratives, to, of course, spew even more hate towards either of them (depending what delusional team you are on).

Should have seen it all coming.

Sadly, instead of just leaving, tail between their legs, they are doubling down on their utterly delusional beliefs regarding these young men. Not without pain, I may add. Pain, that a small part of me, someone that tries very hard to be nice and good and positive, is now relishing (I lie... not that mall of a part after all). Their twists and turns, their made up shit to compensate for whatever shit JK, JM or Tae are throwing their way... kind of priceless. I mean, if they aren't going anywhere, should we not at least enjoy their demise?

Does that make me a bad person?

Honestly, I don't think so.

And Jikook being away from most of this, lighting the fire and walking away leaving their haters behind to burn, was a nice touch.

Now we just sit here silently wait for our little travel show...

💜💜

[tumblingxelian]

There's this ridiculous narrative that going on in both RWBY subreddit: fans and critics alike are saying that Yang's memory is flawed (or even that she was lying) when she said that she basically had to raise Ruby herself when Tai shut down after Summer died. Their main argument is "Yang was 5! She couldn't even take care of herself, much less a toddler!"

Several works of fiction have five-year-olds whose parents are neglectful, emotionally defeated, or even abusive taking care of themselves just fine, like Matilda (Matilda Wormwood), Persona 4 (Nanako Dojima), and Kotaro Lives Alone (Kotaro Satou). Why are they willing to give them a pass for doing that, while saying that it's impossible in RWBY?

Yang's conversation with Tai before her sparring match in V4 doesn't work if this was the case.

I'm actually insulted by this argument because the mother of my oldest cousin was a complete and utter bitch who divorced my uncle, and cheated him out of as many supervised visits as she could by working overtime whenever she could. Combined with the fact that she worked an 8 to 8 job, my cousin had to teach herself how to cook, do laundry, change her bedsheets, and get herself ready for school since neither my uncle nor her mother were heavily involved in her life, kind of like Matilda, Nanako, and Kotaro. Gee, it's almost like fiction is at least somewhat based on reality. What a concept!

Sorry if I got a little rambly, but my cousin's experience and my own experience as an older brother cause this argument to REALLY make me angry.

I've had endless debates across Reddit, YouTube, Tumblr and forums alike with people who hold that exact stance and it is never not utterly asinine.

Even if we ignore the factual reality that lots of children, even very young one's often end up parentified and left grappling with adult responsibilities as a small child.

Which I need to stress we should not ignore and the fact these people do shows just how willfully ignorant they are being.

The fact of the matter is it makes no narrative, character or thematic sense for her to be wrong about this!

Like, really, what is the narrative end goal in these people's brains, to have one of the main characters most overtly emphasized sources of trauma. Not only brought up by herself but by the sister she had to raise. Be wrong?

It makes every scene discussing it, every aspect of her character it informs, every bit if dialogue that touched on it utterly meaningless. CRWBY don't have that kind of time to waste on a red herring that serves literally Zero purpose!

But of course these people don't give two fried fucks about things like basic common sense or competent writing.

They want Yang to be delusional or lying because in their mind the fact she 'dared' be traumatized, 'dared' to be something other than a ditsy party girl and 'dared' be even indirectly critical of a man, of her father, is an insult to them.

Thus they want to ignore what's on screen, what the writers say, what the characters say, what reality says about situations exactly like this to erase her trauma and depth, All our a blend of sexist offence and misogynistic defensiveness of a minor male character.

It sucks but then, since wen hasn't RWDE been awful?

On your example:

Extremely well said, very good examples, I would also add Gohan from Dragon Ball surviving in the wilderness for a full year at the age of 3/4/5 depending on translations.

There's so many conversations tat make no coherent sense if Yang was wrong, but as said, these people don't care about good writing.

My sympathies and respect to your cousin and exactly, reality is often stranger than fiction and frankly this fictional scenario isn't even that strange sadly :/

I am right there with you for my own reasons, it sucks!

Literally the only area in which one can reasonably argue that Yang might be somewhat misinformed I thin is in relation to what exactly was going on in Ruby's head at the time.

IE, believing she didn't understand what was going on yet. That doesn't actually undercut any of her own experiences, but could be the case as it seems Ruby's memories of those early days are perhaps clearer tan Yang realizes.

Of course this changes nothing about Yang being parentified from an incredibly young age, because Ruby herself outright said Yang raised her.

[valleyofhyperfixations]

Poems and Pomegranates

A Stardew Valley one-shot in which Elliott has a crush on the Farmer and is very stupid about it.

“I’ve got amazing news!”

Leah jumped and made a big, blue brushsroke through the middle of her almost finished painting.

“Elliott!” She growled, irritated at her friend. “I’ve told you to KNOCK!”

“Such trivial matters cannot stop me in the face of the most marvelous event of the ceuntry!” Writer threw himself dramatically at her bed, messing up the hand-embroidered pillows. “Leah, I am… I am in love!”

The artist was not half as amazed with the revelation as her friend.

“Oh my god, again? With who this time?”

“I’ll let you guess!”

Elliott sat on a bed giggling and waving his legs like an excited teenager.

“Is that really necessary…?”

“Oh come on, it won’t be hard! You know them.”

“Elliott, there’s like five people in this god forsaken village, OF COURSE I know them!”

Her rational arguments and angry stare seemed to bounce right off the invisible aura of pure joy and excitement that was surrounding freshly enamored writer. There was no way of developing this conversation other than his own. Leah sighed.

“Is it… the photo of Jodi’s husband that fell from her purse? Because if it is I’m gonna suspect she’s trying to get rid of it, that would be a fourth time!”

“No-o!” Elliott refuted. “This is a person.”

“An actor for a change? Let me guess, David…”

Leah got hit by a cushion, wiping a self-satisfied smirk of her face.

“Don’t play jokes on me in such a dramatic moment! A person from Pelican town.”

“Oh wow, that’s actually some unusual news.”

“I’ve told you so since the beginning.” Elliott seemingly didn’t notice the big chunks of irony in Leahs voice. “And you will never guess who!”

“The new farmer.”

Leah didn’t even bother to make it sound like a question. She laughed, hearing her friend’s outraged gasp behind her. Even though she turned her back to him to fix the painting, she knew exactly what face expression Elliott was making right now.

“How-did-you-know?!” He demanded, shocked and avast.

“He’s the only new person in town, all the other guys are either straight or not your type…”

“… or married to Jodi.”

“… So this was the only possible answer. Congratulations, are you planning on doing something about it?”

“Oh, yes!” Elliott jumped up and pulled something out of his pocket. “I’m going to read to him this poem. Won’t that be just utterly romantic?”

Leah took a piece of nice, firm paper and started to read it, subconsciously moving her lips as she did so. Her eyes became bigger and wider with every line.

“Elliott,” She waved a piece of paper before her friend’s eyes, as if trying to sober him up. “You can’t read that to him.”

“Why not?”

“Are you kidding me? It’s way too straight forward! We don’t even know if the guy is gay! And even if he is, believe me, anyone getting something like that all of a sudden would be creeped out.”

“Why?” Elliott took back the sheet of paper and started observing it vigorously, trying to spot the thing that made Leah so opposed to his idea. “Do you think it isn’t good?”

“It’s a good piece of writing, but you don’t just go and give something like that to someone who you had zero romantic interaction with.”

“Oh, and here’s where your innate pessimism has you mistaken!” Elliott took a feather out of his neatly arranged hair and pointed it triumphantly at Leah, as if it was a saber. “I have a very good reason to suspect that he does hold intimate emotions for me!”

“Wait, really?!” Now Leah was genuinely interested. “Why didn’t you start with that?! Tell me everything!”

“So, last night…”

“Yes?”

“As I was getting back into my cabin…”

“Yes?!”

“The farmer appeared on a beach…”

“And? What happens next?!”

“He brought me…”

“What???”

“A pomegranate!”

Leah stared blankly at the triumphant, delusional face of her best friend. How such an intelligent person can be so stupid?

“Elliott.” She started explaining her point slowly, like she was talking to a little kid. “You asked for someone to bring you a pomegranate. On a bulletin board.”

“Yeah, well-” Elliott flared up. “He had no reason to satisfy my humble request, and yet he did!”

“You were paying.” Leah was starting to become seriously frustrated. “You. Were. Paying for the damn pomegranate! Yesterday the farmer delivered leek to Evelyn, will you argue that he’s in love with her too?”

Leah’s arguments finally seemed to have made their way through Elliott’s thick skull. He looked like a deflated birthday balloon.

“So do you think” He asked sitting on Leahs bed again, his body striking a defeated pose. “That I don’t have a chance to get with him?”

“Oh no, I didn’t say that!” Leah sat next to Elliott, embracing him with sisterly support. “You do have a chance, just, for the roots of Yoba, don’t-”

They were interrupted by a sound of knocking on Leah’s wooden door.

“Who’s there?” She asked, not knowing who besides Elliott might have a reason to visit her in her home.

“It’s the farmer!” Said a voice from behind the door. “May I come in?”

“Oh, of course!”

Both Leah and Elliott practically jumped up from her bed, both trying to communicate something by looking at each other and both having completely different messages in mind.

“Hello!” Farmer came inside, lighting Leah’s tiny studio with his bright smile. “Sorry for coming unannounced, but I was just coming back from Pierre’s and remembered I had some extra goat cheese I forgot to sell him. So I figured giving it to somebody will be better than going all the way back just to sell one piece. You like goat cheese, right?”

“Oh, I love it!” Leah beamed looking at one of her favourite snacks. “You couldn’t have picked better!”

“I’ll try to remember that.” Farmer smiled even wider. “Oh, hi Elliott!”

Writer straightened up, like he was called out to solve a mathematics problem by a teacher.

“H-hi, Farmer! It’s good to see you again.”

“You too.” Farmer looked around Leah’s room, admiring the sculptures and paintings. “So, what have you been up to?”

“Oh, you know, writing my novel, a little bit of gardening… I have to remember to not water my plants with sea water this time!”

Farmer stopped watching Leah’s art for a minute to give writer a look. It was way less delightfully amused and much more concerned than Elliott have hoped for.

“You’re still irrigating them with sea water after a month?”

Oh no. Have Elliott already use this attempt at striking a conversation? All he wanted was to relate to the farmer on a common interest level, and instead he must have looked like someone utterly incompetent.

“Anyway.” Farmer broke the awkward silence. “I just remembered I also have something for you.”

Elliott’s eyes grew in awe and his heart fluttered, as he saw a glistening, ebony dark bottle of the finest ink, emerging before him from farmer’s backpack

“Oh, Farmer!” He took the gift gently in his hands, almost made tearful by that generous gesture. “Thank you so much, ink is always required for a writer! And so expensive, too…”

“Ah, don’t mention it!” Farmer waved their hand. “Had a lot luck in the mines lately. It’s weird what these monsters carry with them sometimes. I’m just glad that you like it.”

“It is very much appreciated.” Elliott held his hands tighter on a bottle, his mind already overflowing with heroic images of Farmer making his way through narrow corridors and slaying monsters, just for him…

“Just don’t use it for watering plants by mistake.”

Playful smile and a wink that Farmer gave him were like a nail to a coffin in which Elliott just buried his past self. The self who could imagine a life without the farmer.

“I will take sincere care of it, just like with any other gift from you.” He swallowed hard, gathering his courage for what was to happen next. “Speaking of which, I have…”

“HAVE been telling me something very personal and we’re very thankful for the gifts, Farmer, but I have to ask you to go. You’ll be welcome at any other time of course!”

“Oh, I see.” The man was almost not abashed at all as he swiftly obliged the sudden request from Leah. “I’ll see you around in that case. Bye!”

“Bye!” Elliott responded with waving his hand to the same gesture send his way by the leaving farmer, but the moment the door shut close, he turned with a whispered grievances to Leah.

“Why did you do this? We were having a magical moment!”

“You were about to give him the poem and make a fool of yourself, that’s what this moment was!” Leah whispered back angrily. “My dude, just this once in your life, listen to a sensible romance advice and learn to take it slow!”

Elliott was sulking at Leah until the end of their meeting in her cottage, and later for some time after he came back to his cabin, but ultimately he had to admit that his friend was right. He was a romantic at heart, but he had to admit that not everybody appreciates a straight forward gesture, or frankly feels comfortable with it. Writer sighed, putting his love confessing poem between the pages of “All the ways of robots” - a science fiction book that he started reading as a preparation for finishing his own novel.

For the rest of the day he played piano a little, he watered his plants (not with sea water, where did he even get an idea of pretending to be this dumb?), and finally - sat to have a intense session of writing. Despite earlier emotional turmoils, his creative process was going very smoothly. Smoothly enough, that when somebody knocked to his door Elliott was quite irritated with the forced break from his papers. Despite it he got up, feeling his bones creaking, and came to open the door.

“Hi again!” Said Farmer, and Elliott’s heart jumped and did a somersault somewhere in the vicinity of his Adam’s apple. As a result, his throat tightened and the word “hello” came out in a form of a squeak.

“… may I come in?”

Asked his guest after a few moments too long of standing at the doorstep and Elliott hurried himself to move out of the way and make a welcoming gesture. Why didn’t he think to clean his cabin at least a little bit today?!

“I won’t take too much of your time, I see you’ve been busy.”

Elliott miraculously stopped himself from responding something in the lines of “please, take all my time and more”.

“I was just in the library looking for “The Cosmic Triumph” and Gunter told me you borrowed it some time ago. Have you maybe finished it by any chance?”

“Of course!” He didn’t, the truth was it was a story Elliott read as a much younger boy and currently wanted to remind himself of. He only read half, but who could say no to such beautiful eyes that manifested into his room as if by a divine intervention? “Here it is, I hope it gives you a pleasant literary adventure.”

“Thank you, I’m sure it will.” Farmer took the book from Elliott’s hand and put it in his backpack. “Okay, I will leave you to it, it seems like you are busy with the book.”

“Actually” Elliott stopped the farmer as he was about to close the door. “I could use a little bit of fresh air. Would you mind having someone walk you to your home?”

“Actually, I wouldn’t mind. Not at all.”

Elliott couldn’t have imagined a more perfect rendezvous. Light evening breeze brought relief after a long, hot summer day, which caused both men to walk slowly and bask in the wonderful fresh air as long as possible. Birds were singing in the forest, hidden between the branches somewhere above their heads. An owl whistled, giving their walk a mysterious aura. And the conversation was flowing - oh, how pleasant was the exchange of thoughts between the two minds, and how unwelcomed the departure.

“I don’t think my walk home from the beach ever felt that short. Will you be okay on your way back?” Said farmer, after they finally had to say goodbye.

“I’m glad that my company brings you pleasure, Farmer. Walking home from here will be a delight, you don’t need to worry about my security or comfort.”

“I’m glad. See you around, then!”

Farmer closed the door and Elliott made himself wait until after he left the farmer’s property to squeal with excitement. He never had such a short walk home! He worries about Elliott’s safety on the way back! Oh, what a night. Tomorrow first thing in the morning Elliott has to go to Leah’s house and tell her everything. No, on a second thought - that will be the second thing in the morning, before that Ellott will go to Pierre’s, to hopefully meet there the farmer. He’d pretend it was an accidental encounter and mention that he did get to his home safely, and offer to walk with farmer more often. Yes, the perfect plan. After that he will go to Leah and properly thank her for thwarting his attempt to present his poem to the farmer. She was right, it was very straight forward. More of an emotional fantasy than a serious literature, really.

Elliott came into his tiny cabin, sure that he will have pleasant dreams that night. He looked at his pocket watch (an old fashioned accessory, yes, but he liked it very much). It wasn’t too late yet, he can take some time to relax reading before bed. Elliott reached to the table and picked up… “The Cosmis Triumph”? No, that’s not right, he gave that book to farmer earlier today. But silver-lettered title gleamed before his eyes, clear as day, and that would have to mean that…

Oh no.

Oh shit.

Oh shit oh shit oh shit.

Elliott started to search through his cabin in a panic, throwing books out of shelves and clothes out of the drawers. He tried to picture in his mind the exact moment of passing farmer the book to prove to himself that he was wrong, that he didn’t give him that book…

But he couldn’t lie to himself any longer. “All the ways of robots” was nowhere to be found. And that meant that farmer was now home alone with Elliott’s love poem.

Writer ran out of his hut like all the demons of hell were chasing him and rushed towards farmer’s property. His feet were tapping loud on the town’s stone road, echoing in otherwise still neighbourhood. The writer didn’t even take the time to tie his hair, so it was waving behind him like a shining ginger flag, making a beautiful composition with writer’s loose white shirt fluttering in the breeze created by his momentum. Elliott didn’t notice his surroundings in time, which caused him to crash with local guitarist amateur, who was in the process of leaving the pub.

“Hey…” managed to say startled Sam when something almost pushed him to the ground.

“I’m so sorry!” Shouted Elliott in his direction without slowing down. Sam looked at the tornado of ginger hair and linen that was drifting away in fits of chaotic movements.

“Sam, are you okay?” Asked Abigail who came through the door just behind him. “What’s the deal with that guy?”

“I don’t know, do you think he’s sick?”

“Sick in the head.” Commented Sebastian, walking right behind them and lighting a cigarette. “I’m telling you, that hermit crab has finally gone mad.”

“What’s with his hands?” Wondered Abigail as they watched Elliott disappearing in the woods. Indeed, he was waving his hands in a manner that did not at all positively impact his pace.

“Everyone here is a damn lunatic.” Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Abs, do you want us to walk you home before Business Daddy calls you for the twentieth time?”

“Ewww, don’t call my father that!” Abigail punched Sebastian lightly in the arm, but laughed.

Meanwhile in the forest Elliott was having a significantly less amusing time. The road seemed to have gotten more rough since he was walking it less than two hours ago, the forest was now darker and not so romantic anymore, rather scary. Writer’s wild imagination was putting roars of monsters in place of the squeaks of bats and clawed hands reaching for him in place of shadows. But possibly the worst of all - because very probable - was the fear of how farmer will react when he reads Elliott’s poem. Will he think it to be creepy? Too forward? Will he be skeeved out by the romantic details? Or maybe - and it was the worst posisibility of them all - the farmer will think that Elliott purposefully switched the books, just to confess to him in that convoluted way?

“He’ll probably think it was just a one, big misunderstanding.” Elliott tried to calm himself as he jumped through the logs and tried to keep his hair off the branches. “There’s no guarantee he’ll figure out that he is the object of that poem!”

“You literally wrote five verses describing his pomegranate tree” Leah’s voice rang in his head as if she was really right there, trying to speak some sense into his thick skull. “You’re writing about the fields and chickens, and who else in the valley has a greenhouse?! Elliott, you plonker, everybody will know this poem is about the farmer if they as much as look at it.”

Leah was right. Or, rather - Elliott was right. No, he wouldn’t have imagined that arguments if he didn’t know Leah. Screw that, the main point was that he had to take the book from the farmer before they manage to open it and find the wretched poem!

The light in Farmer’s house was still lit. Not a good sign. But maybe he’s not up reading?

Elliott knocked to the door in a rush, only a moment too late remembering that he is short-winded and disheveled, probably with some leaves stuck in his hair. But he didn’t have time to fix his looks, because in this very moment the door opened, letting outside a safe, golden, heavenly light, and an angel bathed in it, holding the doorknob.

“Elliott?” Farmer seemed surprised and a little worried. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“I am…” Elliott, who wasn’t used to moving in such a hurry, gasped for the air. “Okay, it’s just…”

“Come in!”

Farmer stepped back to let him go through the door and closed them quickly, leaving chilly evening air outside. Elliott’s eyes were searching for the book. Is it possible that farmer didn’t yet took it out of the backpack?

“I, uhhh…” Writer suddenly felt himself blushing under the sweetly concerned gaze of his crush. “By accident I gave you the wrong book.” He held “The Cosmic Triumph” in front of him, endlessly thankful to his lucky star that he at least remembered to take it with him.

“That’s it?” Farmer laughed with relief. “Elliott, you looked like you have seen a ghost! Thank you, you really didn’t have to, I would have lasted one more evening without the book.”

Does that mean he didn’t open it yet?

“But since you are here maybe you’ll drink some tea, it looks like you need to sit for a moment. I also have juice if you want something colder.”

“T-tea is fine.” Only now Elliott started to feel how big of an impact the mad dash had on him. He sat on the sofa Farmer pointed him towards, still browsing the room with his eyes and… there it was. On the tea table, just slightly out of reach, lied the straightened page with the poem, and “All the ways of robots” next to it. He could try to steal it, but won’t it only make him look more suspicious if farmer ready read it? Did he?

“Milk or…” Farmer approached Elliott with two cups of tea and quickly followed his gaze. The beautiful face blushed. Oh no. Oh no no no no no. He had read it.

Elliott sat stiff as Farmer situated next to him, feeling like he had swallowed a ticking bomb. The bomb was his heart, the fuse was in the hands of the farmer.

“Um…” Elliott’s crush broke the insufferable silence. “You… you wrote it?”

Elliott took a deep inhale, prepared to ad-lib a desperate attempt at excuse, but before he could say anything he glanced at Farmer and saw… a blush and a smile? Was it really? Or was his hopeful mind making up illusions again?

Oh well, the prize belongs to risk takers. Worst case scenario he will have to change the name and move out of the country.

“Yes, I did actually.” He felt his heart bumping loudly. “For you.”

The farmer bit his lip. Was he trying to restrain a smile or a laugh? Will he throw Elliott out in the next moments? Or maybe he’ll feel intimidated?

“It’s beautiful.” Said Farmer simply. “Like… like the author.”

Elliott finally felt brave enough to look in the face of his muse. Was he… blushing? No, this time there was no denying it. Farmer’s face was red like a ripe tomato.

Suddenly farmer stood up and went to take something from his cellar downstairs. Did Elliott misread the signals?

“I was thinking,” Farmer’s voice could be heard before he went in the room. “It was such a nice time talking to you earlier today, and- and, I mean it’s late. Of course you don’t have to if you want to, but… you look tired… but still pretty.. What I mean is-”

He finally appeared, holding two glasses and a bottle of golden quality wine. Elliott’s heard did a pirouette. Such lavishness. And for him?

“If you are asking…” Elliott smiled, being once again the smoother worded one out of two of them. It provided him some confidence. “If you are asking me if I’d like to have a glass with you and spend the night, then the answer is yes. Gladly.”

Two bottles of wine and a few hours later two men were tasting each other’s lips under the night sky. Elliott smiled through the kisses, thinking about the stories he’ll get to tell tomorrow. Suck it, Leah. There are still true romantic souls in this world and he, Elliott, managed to find one. And he has no intention to let go.

[scribe-of-hael]

I Hate Sentinel Prime

Spoilers for TFONE , please for the love of God GO WATCH IT

One thing about this movie is taking concepts that are digestible for a younger audience and yet takes it seriously enough for older audiences. I already want to make a long winded review and analyzing the morality/psychology/philosophy between D-16 and Orion in the films. But ill save that for another post.

First and forthmost no story is without is obstacles and its antagonist.

From the get go I knew Sentinel was going to be apart of the problem due to just knowing his past counterparts, form TFA to Bayverse and IDW being less than desirable or even striaght up maniacs. I have had a deep rooted hate towards this character since the age of 8/9 years old. That is never going away anytime soon.

I very much chalked Sentinel as an ass who didn't deserve any of Optimus's help or kindness in TFA. Coming to be older understanding just how fucked up his words towards BA was and how this situation was just as much if not more his fault and yet never seem to get repercussions.

What i didn't expect is to have such a violent pure hatred for this character. And the things is. That's the point. The audience is SUPOSSED to hate him.

But this slightly bleeds into the conflict of people feeling who was in the right. D-16 or Orion. Because Sentinel needed to die. Had to die.

I can't express the deep horror I felt when it was revealed this , leader. This protector was no only lieing, not only a murderer. But had taken away others Bodily rights before even having a choice and enslaved them all for his benefit. Being manipulative, abusive , does right utterly disgusting by the violation of Cybertronians.

It is beyond deplorable, it is monstrous. Evil and vile.

The part of why I hate Sentinel and I am so enthralled by him as a villain is that Sentinel's whole persona and archetypes can be found in real life. Sentinel is more likely to be an acutal person in the everyday vs a cult follower of a hungery devil planet.

Is see ppl attracted to Sentinel and 99% of them know he's awful and terrible but his Charisma is what ppl say is the factor they like. And absolutely, it is apart of the manipulation. No one ever truly thinks they are the villain and they believe their own truth of themselves and the situation. Even going around making sure their veil of truth looks like it to the public and will do whatever means to keep it that way.

It is specifically the scene where he kills Alpha Tron and carries on the same tone of the conversation and even says to the CORPSE of how disrespectful he and the other primes where. There is zero hesitation or remorse. He is utterly delusional and insane.

Its the level of one person willing to hurt Thousands , millions, for their own benefit. To where even the ppl affected wouldn't wnat to beleiev someone could be capable of a level of heartless cruelty and yet-

He did it.

Slightly back pedeling in the fact his Death needed to happen. I never felt more satisfaction of a villain death. But in his defeat a new threat came from it. In the end Sentinel did get away with it. He hurt D-16 to such a degree that he not only hurt his friend , he was willing to hurt others to make to make it happen.

Megatron was born to take back the power he felt he lost. But became a new face for a new pain. Sentinel would never be forgotten purely for that reason.

[sanastrawberryy]

Well, this is the first time I’ve written something like this, but it isn’t hurt to try new things! Also, happy lunar new year, consider this as my red envelope for you!!

Warning: obsessive behaviour, delusional man (and this is IrisCube so if this ship makes you uncomfortable, please skip!)

———————————————————————

“How long has it been since I last wrote a letter? You know, letters are one of the things I hate most in the world, probably just after that damn old man. It's really funny, but I truly need a way to, how should I put it, express myself to you. The thoughts have been gnawing at me day by day and swallowing up every bit of my focus on everything. I think I'm going to go crazy.

I hate people like you. Naive, cowardly, stupid, and too, too kind. It makes me sick, it disgusts me. People like you are useless at everything, just opening your mouth ruins every task. You tear apart every plan with your disgusting compassion and shift all the blame onto others, so you can always be a pure, spotless angel.

You, you make me ill, too. From the very first glance. You're even worse than all of them. You can't protect anyone, and all you do is inviting trouble to others and yourself. You're a burden to those who are fulfilling their duties. You do nothing but cry and cry, and it drives me mad. You carry that monster inside you, letting it torment innocent people. You're utterly useless and despicable.

Meaningless, your life is truly meaningless. How can you live like this? Why can't you be more useful? Why do you have to drag me into every mess you create? I hate you. I loathe you. I detest you. I know you are the one who unleashed that monster, even if you didn't mean to. I should have left you there to suffer the pain of being eaten away by that damn thing. Maybe then, maybe I wouldn't be tormented like this.

You have destroyed me. You have turned me into a selfish and sickening monster. You have crushed my mind. You have taken over all my dreams. You make it impossible for me to think of anything but you. You make me deceive myself into believing that I am still okay. You have disrupted my life. And you don’t even know it.

I love you. Love at first sight. I love your eyes. I love your hair. I love the gentle smile on your lips when you welcome the being from that tree. But what I love most is your voice. Oh, the voice like an angel, sweet and addictive just like you, sweeping my soul into the wind with every word you utter. I have met countless beauties more stunning and graceful than you a thousand times over, but only you are etched deep within me. Only you make me drunk, mindlessly pursuing every part of you to the end. How fake it sounds, yet I can't even understand myself anymore.

What is it about you that captivates me so? I can only see the sadness every time I look directly into your eyes. That bland emotion always present on your face. You don't have the vibrant life force like the young men in the village next to the royal garden, nor do you have the noble demeanor of the wealthy young masters I always have to befriend. You are like a faint existence, even if you were to die, it wouldn't affect anyone, if not for your much important role. Yet why, why do I only turn to you? Why do I only think of your sorrowful gaze? Why am I only infatuated with you? I don't understand. I can't understand at all.

I want you. I need you. I want to talk to you. I want to sing with you. I want to dance with you. I want to imprint myself on your life. I want to have an important place in your heart. I want you to feel that you might not be as you are now without me. I want you to see that you cannot live without me. I want you to need me, just as I need you. I know I am too greedy, but I cannot help it. You have taken so much from me, including my mind.

I need you. I need you. You are the light of my life. You illuminate every path I take. You are the sweet candy in my meal. You make my life as sweet as a fairy tale. You are my opiate. You make me think of you every moment. You brighten my world. You bring meaning to my life. You are a part of me. You are my soul. You are

I can't imagine what I would be like without you. I can't stand the thought of you leaving me for someone else. I hate your best friend. I hate the way he wraps around you, protects you, and defends you like a deity guarding a fragile, weak creature. Just thinking about that is enough to drive me livid. I want himdisapea I can help you too. I also want to be your savior.Iwant youtoWORSHIPME I can be your companion for the rest of your life. I can be by your side in your toughest moments. I can stop you from hurting yourself. I can also be the light of your life. Please, please, please, pleasepleasepleasepleasePLEASELETME

I hate you.

-ir- “

[rius-cave]

The reason why I think killing off Adam permanently is a huge mistake is the fact that he deserves redemption the most. Out of all Hazbin characters, he's the one who deserves to be redeemed, both literally and figuratively in the viewers' eyes.

He's been introduced as an utterly obnoxious, narcissistic and egoistic asshole, with literally zero obviously positive qualities expect maybe him being a funny guy?? Although his humor was built around vulgar and sexist jokes so it's debatable. He was clearly meant to be an antagonist and that only, kinda like the Vees (although that has room to develop yet, and certainly gonna in s2). No concrete reason was stated as the motivation of his behavior, we can only assume things but it's clear there wasn't much thought, he just wasn't destined to be explained and redeemed. He's just like that.

And that's the big issue. He's kinda portrayed as he's always been like that (why Lilith left him etc). But there's the fact that he's in Heaven. How could he be in Heaven if he's a guy full of negative traits, shitty behavior and issues like narcissism (or even a potential god-complex)?? I don't think it would be possible for such problematic people to pass divine judgement and become winners, not even if said person is the literal first man and hasn't eaten the apple. Yes, we see how lenient Sera is with him about the whole extermination and his behavior, I wouldn't be surprised if Heaven has always been just as lenient, but I don't think they could've determined if he got to Heaven (especially since even Sera doesn't know how people get there).

So what's the point of saying all this? That he HAD to be better at some point. He had to be as "pure" and good as it leads one to become a winner. And that automatically means something had to change that later on. Be it the treatment Heaven gave him, how he's been praised as the first soul to get there, the perfect man, or some kind of untreated trauma from earlier (being abandoned, betrayed, etc) or even just seeing what humanity became (disappointment). I absolutely believe this would be reason enough to give the guy some development and redemption. He was caused to become what he is now by other people and circumstances in some sense, and he, unlike any actual sinners!!!, was actually "good enough" for Heaven. He made mistakes, he had flaws, but he wasn't all bad despite being portrayed like that, he wasn't hopeless, and him being an angel was the proof of that.

But even if he didn't get redeemed, he would've absolutely deserved atleast some character depth and an explanation of why he is like that. Sadly, that obviously wasn't Vivzie's goal, and probably won't ever be. (I still do have a slight hope that Adam will come back in some way once, though that's mostly just desperation on my part and me being delusional lol)

Wow anon, you really went off here. I understand. I also have Thoughts™

See, I am in a bit of a difficult position, because I see most things as, well, as they are. On one hand, yes of course I believe that Adam absolutely deserves a redemption story, or if not that, at least more story, ya know? On the other hand, I understand Adam's narrative purpose for the show and what the big picture is. I also understand the writing flaws of the show and how maybe one explanation is just that, the writers don't have that big of a scope in mind lol.

But also there are limitations that are outside of their control. Adam could honestly easily have a complete season to himself with how much potential as a character he has, but Hazbin Hotel is not about him. Yes, it's about redemption, but it's not about his redemption, you know?

And let's be honest, most of the potential that fanon usually attributes to him is mostly based on the real biblical character that he's "based" on. If he was just a shitty angel with a shitty motive with some shitty beef with Lucifer and hell, I don't think as many people would've cared this much about him. But I also feel like Adam being THE Adam from the bible was more like.... An adendum. Like they knew they wanted a main angel antagonist, and then just went "oh wouldn't it be cool if it was Lilith's ex husband too lol" and then rolled with that.

As for Adam being a good person once, trust me, that is also my headcanon, it's one of my favorite headcanons in fact, but... I wouldn't be surprised at all if it wasn't like that.

I think Adam was a good person once because of all the reasons you listed, but one of the reasons why they made Adam such a shithead is, yeah so he can work as a fun villain, but it's also to shed light on Heaven's hypocrisy and the fundamental problems of the system. It also serves to highlight how ridiculous Heaven is for allowing someone like Adam in for being privileged from the start, but not allowing the people in Hell who are arguably not worse than Adam. Adam isn't only a villain, he's also showcasing the issues of Heaven and their double standards.

And on the subject of the writing process, sometimes for shows like these, it's completely possible that the writing team is aware of how good of a character Adam is, it's highly likely that they've seen the sinner Adam AUs and all the love he's gotten since the show ended, and some of them probably agree that it would be an awesome story! .... But they still had to choose not to do it.

Again, at the end of the day, Adam is not a core part of Hazbin or its themes. Sure, he could represent redemption, but we're also kinda doing that with Angel and Pentious and maybe with other characters. They can't tell EVERY character's story because that just goes outside of the scope of the show. So, they need to prioritize Angel, or Husk, or maybe even Alastor if he gets some sort of redemption too. The show has a set of main characters and it has to put them before the villains, specially when they didn't even know if they'd get a season 2 (or how many more seasons they're going to get). The main cast is already a bit underdeveloped and I can't imagine them cutting even more of that for the vulgar, genocidal villain.

It's hard being an Adam fan that also has a vague idea of how shows and writing work lol

[mullermilkshake]

You're pretty when you cry.

You await a decision from the Hunters association.

Ging Freecss x Fem! Reader DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT,Dacryphillia,Physical abuse,Choking,Harassment,Injustice,Manipulation,Bleeding,Violence, Bereavement,Emotional Manipulation

<<< For more content, click this link to go back to the Masterlist! >>>

You paced back and forth in your tiny office, anxious by the verdict you wouldn’t hear first hand. 

The association said they would make the decision whether to remove one of their fellow hunters on their own by a vote, something you were not allowed to be privy to. Though you were glad you wouldn’t have to attend, the suspense was killing you, slowly choking and removing the air from your lungs. 

You couldn’t believe it had come to this, getting further action taken because he couldn’t listen, he wouldn’t and just point blank refused and pressured you with his advances. 

Ging Freecss deserved to have his licence suspended and his star status revoked. The man was a foolish excuse to himself and others. 

The knock at the door made you jump, you hadn’t noticed it before and it became frantic, panicked like an emergency no alarm made you aware of. 

When you unlocked the door, you didn’t have a chance to pull the handle before the door flew open and knocked you back out of the way, making you fall against your desk. You barely had enough time to right and steady yourself and you were face to face, so close to Ging with hell in his eyes. 

“You try to reject me and go to the hunters association and think I won’t know? That I wouldn’t find out?” The door bounced and he slammed it closed with his foot.

This was a side of him you’d only seen once before, luckily that time, it wasn’t directed at you, but this time you could feel his bloodlust wisping towards you. His hands were placed flat on the table by your hips, index fingers tapping furiously in an attempt you assumed to control himself. 

“Ging… what are you- you need to go. You can’t be here.” 

“I’ll go where I damn like, and that was exactly what I told them too. You know what they called me?.”

You tried to push him off, but like a brick wall, Ging was hard to move. Entirely made of muscle, even a punch didn’t make him flinch one bit. His eyes didn’t leave you, burning into you like a magnifying glass in the sun, keeping you there to writhe in agony until the sensation numbed.

“A liability.”

“Let me pass.” Moving his hands from the desk was impossible. “Let me pass goddammit!” He caught your hand as you tried to strike him like a viper, so quick and firm it hurt. 

“You forget your place… I am the hunters association. Nothing gets past me. All because of what? Because I love you? Is my affection that bad? Any girl would become addicted and you just tossed it aside.” 

His hand around yours squeezed and rolled your knuckles together. “Ow, Ging, stop it! You brought all of this on yourself!”

He didn’t, he only went harder, unblinking while he still kept eye contact and his nose brushed up against yours. Your eyes were closed, trying to look away like he didn’t exist, but Ging soon stopped that and pulled your face towards him. 

“Look at me when you’re talking to me.” You didn’t dare open them. 

“You’re hurting me!” 

“Good. This is only a fraction of how you make me feel when you turn away from me. When you tell me ‘No’. I want you to feel and remember this pain when you try and think about denying me, do you understand?”

Delusional, he was utterly delusional. The first time he spoke to you, you knew he was wrong. A red flag that no one except you seemed to notice, he wasn’t even charming yet everyone looked up to him, even Netero spoke well of him. 

Ging picked up on your hesitancy to speak. “Open your fucking eyes and look at me… Do you understand me?”

You swore he was going to break your jaw, he withdrew from your hand and took both of his to your head, one at the back to keep you still. “Do you understand?!” 

You opened them. “Y-yeah.”

“Huh? I can’t hear you, you need to speak up.”

“Yes! Y-yes I understand, please get off of me...”

He didn’t let go, but his grip eased letting you get a breath in. “I’m giving you one chance, one more chance not to fuck this up. They made me sound like a monster in that meeting room, but they don’t understand and I think you’re the one who hasn’t communicated that very well.”

You were clear and concise and took the correct avenues to report his behaviour, it wasn’t the first time either. You had plenty of paperwork from the association minimising Ging’s actions. It wasn’t until the fifth attempt that they actually took you seriously, you were now on the seventh complaint. 

He wouldn’t leave you alone. 

“Ging you aren't listening to me.” 

There was a long awkward pause, for the first time Ging had closed his eyes. “Say my name again. Please?” 

When you didn’t respond he asked again and pressed his forehead to yours. “Please, just say it.” 

You shook your head not giving him that satisfaction, he’d never begged before. “I can’t do that. Just go.” 

“We both know I can’t do that. I won’t.”

The atmosphere grew silent, his bloodlust faded and his aura calmed so it didn’t envelope you. His hands dropped and moved back to the table. You were both in such a position if anyone were to walk in, it was way too suggestive for your liking. You did try and move, making little movements while his eyes were closed. You edged on to the desk, hoping to slide back a little, even if you fell back and hurt yourself. 

“Don’t even think about it!” Ging switched in an instant, eyes curved down in anger and took you by your shoulders and pushed you down on the desk, knocking your head in the process on your glass paper weight. 

“You’re crying.” There was a hint of sympathy in his voice, his whiplashed personality flipping again. 

But it all made you cry more. Your eyes had begun to water at the sharp point, it must have been bleeding too. You expected push back, but not like this. Ging hadn’t been violent to a degree where you had fretted for your life, but now you couldn’t deny that it was a possibility. 

“You know, I really do love it when you cry.” He was exceptionally calm. “Like the time you lost your father, the funeral, I couldn’t help but watch.” 

Your breath hitched, you thought back to that time and it was dark and so very lonely. Surrounded by so many, but so alone with no one to lean on but Ging never tried, just stared from a distance. At first you thought he was allowing you space for once, but of course he had an agenda, you were foolish to think differently. 

“You wore that plum coloured dress with no stockings. You must know what wearing that colour does to me? It suits you so much better than all this yellow you wear.”

You kept still like it would have protected you, your leg didn’t move in the air and didn’t dare let it flop down over the desk in fear he’d think you were trying to leave again. The stiletto on your foot dangled from your toes clinging for dear life and threatened to fall to trigger whatever explosion was inside him. 

A quick sound like that could definitely set him off. 

“So many times I saw tears fall down these cheeks that day, you were so gorgeous. I just wished it was me that made those eyes wet, but your father took all the credit.” He brushed the wet away and stroked your cheek lovingly, but it wasn’t in a place of love or care, it was arousal, his breathing was deeper and you could see the hunger in his eyes. 

“G-Ging don’t do this. Let me go, I don't want to do any of t-this.”

“Shh, Shh. Don’t fret, I know you want this, you’re just lying to yourself.” 

“W-why… why are you doing this?” 

“I noticed you the moment Netero gave you this position, I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.” He got closer, leaning over you. “The amount of times I’ve thought about fucking you in your office, right over your desk are too many to count.” 

Shit. You were certain he’d thought about you sexually, but never imagined he’d be so forward about it. His eyes ate you up, looking straight down to your legs, he brought his hand down and brushed the nylon of the stocking covering the top of your thigh. 

“D-Don’t think about that.” 

His small chuckle sent shivers down your spine. “I can’t help it, you’re just too beautiful to ignore. I’ve thought about doing all sorts of things to you…”

Your noses touched again. “Do you want to know?”

You shook your head, but he took that as a challenge. You could see by the way he looked at you, crying and bleeding on the desk, vulnerable. 

“I’ve thought about you naked, waiting for me on the couch in Netero's office after he'd had gone home, ready to suck my cock until your make up ran. You’d swallow it too, I’d make sure.” 

There wasn’t anytime that you had ever thought about that, not towards him. That would never happen, not unless he made you, but knowing full well you would lose, you would still fight him. 

“There was one particular time that you came in one day, wearing that blouse thing. I wanted to rip it off. It was so distracting. Take you infront of everyone and fuck you right there, make you cry out my name and let everyone know who was making you feel that way.” 

Your eyes grew wide, had he really thought that about you? He was definitely going to make you, hurt you for his own gratification. Your eyes became wet once more.

He must have caught on because he tried to reassure you. “No, no. I wouldn’t force you. I can respect boundaries, I’m not an animal.” 

Because that fucking made you feel better. 

It was then you realised how delusional he actually was. No boundaries you had remained intact, he shit all over them whilst having immature fantasies of having sex in your office. Every boundary you set he broke and replaced his own, pushing you way past your limits with no care. 

“Let me take you away, I’ll keep you safe and take you everywhere and show you the world, even the dark continent where there are things you couldn’t even imagine. I know I’d feel better having you there by my side. What do you say?”

This man is an idiot. Delusional bastard.

You weren’t sure where the courage came from. “No. Get off me this instant and go home Ging. I’ve had it with this…” It disappeared in an instant, when his brows dipped. “I don’t…”

“I won’t ask again. You will come with me.” The pressure on your throat intensified quickly, he squeezed and brought you close. 

He then pressed his lips to yours, soft and caring that was only a mask to how he really was. You paid it no mind and just laid there waiting, waiting for the right time. 

He wasn’t so quick this time, you managed to make contact the next time you struck him, the glass weight in your hand managed to knock him back enough to get breathing room to stand. Your stilettos were off and you were definitely bleeding. 

“I’m not going anywhere with you. I’ll make sure you lose your licence for this.” He was too stunned to speak and you walked to the door. 

The damage to your own head made you dizzy, you’d really landed on that thing hard. Ging didn’t seem affected, just wide eyed at your boldness you thought. 

“No you won’t.” He took you back as you went to open the door and threw you down on the ground and put his hand over your mouth. “You actually believe I’ll lose my licence?”

You didn’t speak a word, you couldn’t. 

“You’re coming with me where I can keep an eye on you like you should have done the first time I asked you. I don’t trust anyone here to do it and I can’t leave you on your own. So be a good girl and stay with me.”

There was so much emotion in his face that made your stomach churn. There was fear in yours, staring back up at him hoping someone would walk in. But no one did while you laid there. 

“I’d hate to have to force you.”

DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!

[perfinn]

the heat that drives the light

aemond targaryen x tyrell!oc - part iv

wc: 2.6k

summary: aemond eavesdrops on his wife, meets her dog, and suffers a moment of profound weakness

cw: NSFW, blind oc, masturbation (for aemond), feelings of guilt (implied to be based in religion?), tbh theres not much this chapter

masterlist, read on ao3, divider by saradika

The pain Aemond has been caused by the loss of eye is something he had long hoped to grow used to, but time and again failed to do. It is a constant ache, on some days a distant throbbing and on others an excruciating pain so overwhelming he cannot face the public for fear of them seeing him weak. Aemond wonders, as he watches his lady wife in the Keep’s gardens, whether Cecily’s blindness causes her any pain. Did the unnamed disease that blinded her leave any other damage? He supposes he could ask, if only he could stand to speak to her. 

It has been a fortnight since their wedding and all the celebrations that followed it, and he has barely spoken a word to her. She has spoken words to him, has tried many times, but he doesn't respond– cannot. He cannot even be around Cecily for how strongly she allures him. And she isn't even trying. It's wretched, bewitching, and entirely too distracting. He tells himself, rather, that he has more important things to attend to than speaking to a silly girl. 

And yet, here he stands in the cover of cloister shadows, watching her as she sits with Flora and shares a pot of tea. He could be doing anything more productive, but instead he stands here and eavesdrops on his spouse. Pathetic.

She looks beautiful, even from here, in a gown of green and gold brocade with her dark hair braided half up into a spiral on the back of her head. Her lilted voice carries through the Godswood so smooth and perfect, he’d call it sweet if it weren’t accompanied by Flora’s softer tones. 

“Is it not what you’d hoped?” says Flora. 

“I tried not to have too many hopes,” Cecily responds, her voice carrying up clearly to where Aemond stands. “I was told of him but not much. Besides, it is not so bad to have a husband who is aloof. People call me aloof too.”

“But aloof and aloof do not make for much of a relationship,” says Flora. “Not that you are aloof, in truth.”

“Perhaps not with you. Others think it so.”

“Others do not matter, do they?” Flora does seem to have some emotional intelligence. Aemond supposes it makes up for her lack of cunning, but it will not get her far in this world. “Who matters,” says Flora, setting down her cup and reaching to touch Cecily’s hand. “Is me. And your husband, should you wish him to matter.” 

Cecily laughs, intertwining her fingers with Flora’s. “You are sweet, Flora.” And foolish, thinks Aemond distantly. “I am happy enough with Prince Aemond.” 

Aemond knows that to be a lie. How can it be anything else? How can she be happy with a man who will not even speak to her? She must be lying to ease her cousin’s worries. She is not aloof, she is in fact a social creature and she must be utterly miserable with a husband who barely gives her the time of day. Aemond could change this in a heartbeat, sure, but he has not a clue where to begin. He would make a fool of himself if he tried.

Flora hums, lifting her cup to her lips and sipping slowly at it. “Well, I hope when you find a husband for me he is just as handsome with none of the aloof nature of the prince.”

Aemond ought to be insulted, but he’s not certain he can find it in him. He is more stunned by the fact that Flora believes Cecily is to find her a match, and not her own father. He knows little of Moryn Tyrell, but he knows perfectly well that the man is still alive and perfectly capable of making matches for his daughter. Surely he’d want to, after his son’s potential for an advantageous match was squandered by his joining the Kingsguard. Are the girls just delusional to their position in the world as women?

“My lady.” A new voice enters the conversation. A squire, perhaps a steward. He does not quite recognise the man speaking. Cecily’s head turns toward the new voice, and she stands. Flora follows, whispering in her ear. “I apologise for the interruption. But by your request, your dog has been brought from Highgarden.”

Cecily’s face brightens in a way Aemond has never seen before, her eyes alight with joy. “Bud is here already?”

Bud? He supposes a dog would make sense, a clever beast to help guide her so she does not constantly need Flora’s help. What he expects to see is a hound of some kind, perhaps something smaller than a hunting dog to better suit her needs, a retriever maybe. Only, the creature that bounds across the grass toward the two Ladies is nothing of the sort. Bud is a tiny thing with floppy ears and a shiny coat the colour of bronze, and Aemond finds him to be rather ugly. 

Cecily, however, crouches down to pick the dog up when it yaps it her, cooing at it as though it were her very own child she cradles it in her arms. Flora coos with her, scratching under its chin while its tail wags wildly. Who Aemond assumes to be the handler jogs in, exasperated for not having been able to keep the dog under control. Flora, at least, seems to notice him

“Cecily will keep him out of trouble, sir,” she says, assuring him. “He is a good boy, just excitable.”

Good? What good can he be? What purpose could the little beast serve but to sit on a woman’s lap and lick at her fingers? 

“I should like to bring him to meet my lord husband,” says Cecily, pressing a kiss to the dog’s round little skull. “Perhaps he’ll like him.”

Gods be good. Now Aemond must decide between lying to his wife and saying he thinks the little creature is sweet, or being honest with her and disappointing her again. He’s not certain he could bear to see that disheartened look on her face again. 

Some hours after Aemond takes his dinner alone in his apartment, a knock reaches his door, Ser Leo come to tell him his wife has requested his presence in her own rooms. Undoubtedly to introduce him to the ugly little creature she has the nerve to call a dog. He debates telling her no, and keeping to himself, but some force he cannot put a name to has him standing and following the kingsguard across the halls toward his wife’s chambers. 

Leo opens the door for him, announcing his presence. Aemond watches as Cecily turns around and smiles, lifting Bud from her lap into her arms as she stands. 

“Lord husband,” she greets him sweetly, taking a few steps towards him. “I hope I did not disturb you.”

“No,” says Aemond, watching as Bud settles comfortably in her grasp, hairy tail wagging lightly. “I had finished eating.” He hesitates before he speaks next. “And who is this?”

“Ah!” Cecily breathes, and Aemond hears the door click shut signalling that Ser Leo has left them alone. “This is Bud. When I came east I left him at Highgarden as I did not expect to be here quite so long, but my father tells me his business will keep him here for some time. So, I had this one brought here.”

The dog looks up at Aemond, squished little face tilting in curiosity. To sate Cecily, he reaches his hand out and lets the dog sniff at his fingers. “Does he serve a purpose?”

Cecily smiles wryly. “I am most certain you’ve heard of Reachmen’s love for lapdogs. His purpose is to be spoiled, I rather think.”

“Mmm,” hums Aemond, reaching to scratch under the dog’s chin when it has decided it trusts him enough to be petted. Aemond takes note of the collar he wears, soft leather dyed green and stitched with pink roses. “It looks as though he serves it well. Curious choice of name.”

Cecily smiles, and Aemond despises the way it tugs on his heart. “Leo thinks so too,” she says, gently smoothing a hand over Bud’s head. “I think it is sweet. Like Rosebud. Were he a bitch I might have named him that. But I have no wish to emasculate the poor pup, hm?”

She lifts him up closer to her so she can kiss his head, and he licks her cheek in return. Cecily laughs, and it's a sweeter sound than any bardsong. She bends over sets Bud down, saying firmly, “To your bed now.” 

And obediently, Bud trots over to a wicker basket with a soft cushion inside and curls up, perfectly content. Aemond cannot help but admire how well his wife appears to have trained the little hound. He knows small dogs to typically be disobedient and hard to train, yet Cecily has managed it without ever even seeing the thing. 

Or perhaps she had someone else do it, though Aemond doesn't think so. He cannot know why he thinks this. It just seems correct. 

“I hoped,” begins Cecily, turning back to face Aemond, her eyes seeming to find his. It's as though she looks right at him, Aemond could almost be fooled for a second. “That we might lay together tonight. It has been a fortnight since our wedding, and I-”

“Not tonight.” The words are out before Aemond can stop them. 

He cannot fuck Cecily, cannot put himself through it again and still manage keep his control. To be so near her naked body would drive him over the precipice of absolute madness, he knows it. He squeezes his eye shut, a dreadful pang of pain shooting across his nerves. He inhales sharply, trying to will the pain away. “We will be as vigilant as we must until your womb quickens, but I will not put you through such an act any more than is necessary.”

And there he has done it. The disheartened look takes up residence on her face once more, her head falling as though she were looking shamefully at the ground. What he would not give to read her mind. Can she not see he does this only out of respect for her? He is his wife, not some pleasure house whore he would degrade to sate his own carnal desire. 

She is a humiliation upon him. He knows this. He has not and will not change his mind. Nevertheless, the very thought of degrading her makes his stomach twist. He does not care what she thinks of, but he can't stomach the thought of her thinking so badly of him. What might she think of him if he were to treat her so callously?

(He already does, he treats her callously and unkindly. But he cannot see it.)

“I understand,” she says after a moment. “May I ask one more thing of you?”

Aemond hesitates. Wishes he could give her just a nod. “Yes.”

“I do not know what you look like,” she says. Aemond startles with the realisation. Sure, she has no doubt been told how he looks, what his features are, but she can't know what he actually looks like. The finer details, the shape of his face or the scars he bears. “If you’d allow me, I dearly wish to find out.”

“How?”

Cecily smiles, gently reaching out until her hand touches his clothed chest, fingers trailing up until she touches the skin of his neck. She steps closer, mere inches between them, and trails her fingers upward. Her soft fingers trace the length of his jaw, and Aemond watches as she closes her eyes as though trying to create a clearer picture of him in her mind. 

“Do you remember the way people look?” Aemond asks, not realising he’s spoken until the words are in the air. 

“In a broad sense?”

“No,” he murmurs. “Individuals.”

Cecily hums, fingers finding his lips and tracing them with a slow and deliberate touch. “I remember somewhat how they looked when I was a girl. I am told my mother and father look much the same. But I remember how Flora and Leo looked as children. The colour of their skin, their hair and eyes, I know has not changed. But we were just children then, so of course they have grown.”

Aemond wonders if she knows what she looks like. She may touch her face whenever, but is it the same? The soft pad of her thumb finds the lower end of his scar and she pauses. Her eyes open, and her lips purse as she traces upwards and finds his eyepatch. 

“May I?” She asks. Aemond nods, knowing she’ll feel it. Cecily carefully lifts the eyepatch off his face, and Aemond watches as her face shifts and she takes in the length of his scar. She’s difficult to read in this moment, he cannot tell whether she pities him or she fears the scar. He does not know which he prefers. 

She does not linger too long on the scar, or make her touch any heavier than a light brush. She moves on to his nose, satisfied with the shape and size of it if the smile on her face is any indication. After another moment she lowers her hands, searching for his and placing the eyepatch back into his palm. 

“Thank you, lord husband,” she murmurs, fingers lingering on his hand. Her touch sets his nerves on fire, but only in the best of ways. “You are most handsome. More so than I was promised.”

Aemond hums, tracing one finger over her palm, as though he does not dare touch her any more than that. “You are kind,” he says, watching as Cecily trails her own fingers up toward his wrist.

 Her intentions are not difficult to read. 

Soften his resolve with such an intimate act and proceed to seduce him into her bed. Has she no shame? Aemond pulls away from her and hears a startled breath leave her lips at the sudden loss of contact. 

“Goodnight, Cecily,” he says, turning away from her and heading for the door. He hears her huff in frustration but pays it no mind. He must get back to his own chambers. 

“My prince-”

“Stay with her,” Aemond says as he passes Ser Leo by, footsteps falling heavily on the stone floors of the Keep. He is ever thankful his own rooms are so close to his wife’s. As soon as he’s inside and the door is closed, he closes his eye, tearing off his eyepatch and throwing it across the room. 

Treacherous fucking body, he curses himself. He unlaces his breeches with deft hands and tugs them down past his swollen cock. 

He takes his length into his hands, biting his lip to suppress any noise. Heavens forbid anyone discover him doing this. He leans his head back as he begins to stroke himself, harsh breaths leaving his nose as the heat of Cecily’s touch lingers on his hands. He tries to imagine how her hands might feel wrapped around his cock, how different her soft palms might feel from his calloused one. How her cunt might feel wrapped around it– not the shallow thrusts he’d given her on their wedding night, but to feel her warmth envelop his cock entirely. 

A shuddering gasp leaves him before he clenches his jaw, forcing any sound back down his throat, as though he could draw back the gasp. His cock twitches in his hand as that treacherous image of Cecily on her knees invades his mind’s eye once again.

It takes little more than that image for him to reach his end, seed spilling into his hand as Aemond pants, feeling as though his knees might buckle. He opens his eye, looking down at himself with slow breaths. 

He knows not whether he can deny himself the pleasures of his wife much longer.

part v

[sssusuki]

All-in Analysis

I haven't done one of these in awhile so give me a moment to collect myself because. did u know i love women.

With that out of the way I believe it's appropriate to begin. All-in is Hyuna's round as well as her introduction, and already have many of us been proven wrong. In the discord we have been theorizing that maybe Hyuna was a brave, yet quiet type. Or a mature type, and yet this has all been wrong to an extent. She is wild and bold, contrasting the ideas we had, but she is still mature to an extent. Especially if you look into the video to which I have done and will explain now because I'm delusional.

This begins with her wanted poster as well as a shot of the outside world. It's a desert with minimal flora or fauna as the wanted poster glides through the air. These first few shots also give us information on how this rebellion kidnaps rich alien's and takes everything they have. They also revealed, though not verbally, they have a base. While this was quietly mentioned at the end of Mizisua, it is more prevalent here as humans are here in numbers as Hyuna begins to perform on her little stage.

One of the biggest things we see first is Hyuna's prosthetic. Which, while it was foreshadowed in her full body when Till's round first released, it seems to have gone through some updates as it is no longer thin and brittle but a strong metal that looks just as big as if she had her normal leg. It also seems important to note that they are filming some video as shown by the details in this part as they show off our beloved Mizi. This would indicate that they have some degree of power if they have the ability to not only have the equipment necessary to film a video, but also have the power to make stuff like this: propaganda basically. Now, we finally see how Mizi and it's clear she has been put through the wringer. She is wearing much more practical clothing now as well as more modest which I believe should be mentioned. Alongside this there is a frame where we meet this blonde boy. Though he is unnamed for now I found it utterly fascinating that Hyuna trusts him to the extent she does and he looks quite similar to Luka. There also seems to be a little kid on the left poking their head out.

Now to the big parts. It seems the rebellion has been planning on storming Alien Stage for awhile, and only now during Luka's round was it possible which, I'm going to get to that later. Besides this, these few frames aren't much to give information on other than that the rebellion is not only quite popular, but it's also violent. To what extent? To what they are bombing? I don't know, it's all fictional dude.

Another important thing to note is that Hyuna is bringing along Mizi to all of this, which is a bit odd if taken into literal consideration. However, I'm going to touch on this later because I think it has some very interesting theories.

After this we cut back to her making the video again where she is doing a strip tease as her blonde friend goads her on and reacts to it. There is a poster of World War in the back that you can see for a few seconds that I found quite fascinating. So, while the aliens consider them a minimal threat, they already want a world war.

Finally, we get to our first real Hyuna lore. Here she sits in Anakt Garden, leg still intact with a boy who looks just like her and Luka who is licking the sleeve of his shirt. Now the way Hyuna has this handled could be taken a few different ways. She is holding Luka's head to push him away or she is holding his head so he stays close. Considering Hyuna's quite affection nature thus far I am led to believe it is the latter but one can never be sure and it's interesting that despite all of this, Luka is led to such extremes with his affection and emotions.

We get back to Hyuna, fully grown. We have two shots here. Her in this space station of sorts that I can only assume is a gateway between worlds and specifically the one with Alien Stage. And then it cuts back to another where she is singing on that stage, entertaining the humans in her group. I find it a little funny how this mimics Alien Stage in a way. Here is where her blonde friend breaks through the window and attacks the aliens as Hyuna rushes past with Mizi and we finally see Luka again. This time, he is older, smiling, and Hyuna looks enraged for the first time. She isn't smiling or laughing, but her face is oddly neutral. A rarity we have come to see in this round. We see Hyuna continuing to sing, but as she does she remembers Luka, and suddenly her whole air of confidence and strength is shattered. She is scared, if not terrified of the boy. Why? He kissed her and then killed her brother the morning after? Perhaps there is something more. However this also confirms that Luka got his purple fingers from blunt force trauma.

Finally we cut back to Hyuna now, and she is being apprehended by the aliens as she gazes back at Luka. Like he is bidding her goodbye into the afterlife with her brother. Mizi then gets up and looks back at her. Cinematically? This is perfect. Hyuna thinks she has hit rock bottom and suddenly Mizi rises from the ground like a Phoenix with her hair. Remember how I talked about it being weird for Hyuna to bring along Mizi? Well, this could be because not only does she know the Alien Stage quite well, but also that if they are planning on breaking another one out (Till maybe) they would need someone familiar. Mizi was going to be nothing more than a pawn until this moment where she grabs the gun, gets shot at, and her hair is cut. Mizi has transformed, and not just physically. She shoots at the aliens as Hyuna looks at her, Luka haunting her in the background. Then, she walks forward, away from Luka, and to Mizi. She is more important than Hyuna thought. The two escape through the elevator as Mizi once again regains a little bit of sanity and screams as they get shot at. Mizi has unknowingly given Hyuna confidence and strength again after coming face to face with Luka. Here they finally get to the Alien Stage opening and Hyuna gives Mizi a kiss. A thank you.

Finally, we see Till hitting the board as it does him and Ivan's round. A grim reminder of what is coming next. I could go into what I am thinking for that round but for now I am focusing on All-in and Hyuna.

Finally, I have to say Hyuna is a great character. She is brave and bold, albeit a bit wild. Yet she is caring and compassionate with the people around her. She is a bit flirtatious but it comes from a place of platonic affection, and finally, she isn't someone indestructible. She is still scared at the end of it all, especially to Luka. We have yet to see how they will play out but I am certainly excited for them to come face to face if Hyuna is scared— no, terrified, by a photo and Luka, if theories are a little correct, makes a song wholly talking about her (Ruler of my Heart). Okay I'm blasting byeere

[ominous-faechild]

✦ Incorrect Quotes Tag ✦

Note: this was literally started August 8th. I just... haven't touched it since. WITH THAT SAID— ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Thanks for the tags, @the-golden-comet (X) and @mysticstarlightduck (X)!

Rules: Use this generator to get incorrect quotes for your characters!

SUN AND SHADOW

Freya: Hey, quick question. How petty am I allowed to be?

Freya: The only thing I'm guilty of is being adorable... ...and also assault with a deadly weapon.

Freya: I’m bisexual and confused. Freya: Not at the fact that I’m a bisexual, I just never know what the FUCK is going on.

Marlon: You remind me of the ocean. Freya: Because I'm deep and mysterious? Marlon: No, because you're full of salt and you scare people.

Daleira: That was so hot, Freya. Freya: I literally called the person who just flirted with you a degenerate dog and told them I hope they get dragged through the streets. Daleira: I'm so in love with you.

Freya: Where’s Crow? Daleira: Around. Freya: Around? Freya: You don’t have any idea, do you? Crow, dropping down from above: Did you know there’s a space above the ceiling?

Freya, looking at a selfie of Crow's: I hate this photo. Crow: I’m cute as fuck in that photo! I’m smiling kindly. Freya: You’re not smiling kindly; you look like you’re up to something. Crow: Up to kindness.

Crow: Why do you think I don’t like you? I do. I would kill for you. Crow: Ask me to kill for you. Freya: ...First of all, calm down-

Freya: You're not my friend anymore. Crow: I was your friend?

Crow: Wait you like me? For my personality? Freya: I know, I was surprised too.

Crow: *About to do something incredibly stupid* Freya: I know I can't stop you, but I won't let you go by yourself.

*Daleira sneezes* Freya: Daleira, are you sick? Here, let me wrap you in a blanket and hand-feed you some warm soup while singing you a lullaby! *Crow sneezes* Freya: Oh my god. Shut the hell up.

Crow: I truly go into housewife mode when I'm someone's soulmate- like, I'll make you pancakes and bacon every morning. Freya: This is a lie. Freya: I'm literally dating them. This is a lie. Freya: THEY DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO COOK A PANCAKE, WHAT IS THIS.

Crow: I don't want to fight you! Freya: I wouldn't want you to fight me either!

Freya: When I first met you, I thought you were weird and annoying. Crow: And? Freya: And you are.

Freya: Did you have to stab them? Crow: You weren’t there. You didn’t hear what they said to me. Freya: What did they say? Crow: "What are you going to do, stab me?" Freya: That’s fair.

Crow: Daleira likes to say ‘you can be part of the problem or part of the solution,’ but I happen to believe you can be both.

Crow: What must it be like to live in your head? Are there happy ponies in there? It’s really something how utterly delusional your optimism is. If I didn’t hate you so much, I might even be impressed. Daleira: Huzzah! I got a heavily qualified and slightly sarcastic compliment from Crow!

Daleira: Coca Cola can remove rust from metal, imagine what it’s doing to your body. Ponderosa: Pfff, getting rid of the rust, idiot. Daleira: THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS! Crow: Hmm... I've been drinking soda and my body's rust free... not sure where you're getting your facts from...

Daleira: Do you think I’m ugly? Crow: It’s not about looks, Daleira. What’s valuable is on the inside... Daleira: Crow... Crow: For example, someone's heart. Daleira: Aw... Stop it- Crow: It could be purchased for more than a million dollars, you know. Daleira: Seriously, stop.

Daleira: *Holding up a pack of pencils* These are kinda cute. Crow: Daleira, that’s gay. Daleira: We’ve been dating for 2 years—

Maritza: Ooh, somebody has a crush Freya: Pfft, I don’t have a crush on Crow, I just think they’re cool, it’s not like I stay up at night thinking about them. *Later that night* Freya, very much awake: Uh oh.

Valyarus: New year, same me. Because I'm perfect.

Maritza: Question. When they shot Bambi's mother, did you find that a sad moment...at all? Valyarus: I'm sure she's mounted on a nice wall in a fine home somewhere.

Daleira, staring at Ponderosa in a cage: ...Why are they in a cage? Valyarus: Because it growled at me.

Valyarus: Alright, listen up you little shits. Valyar: Not you, Dally. You’re an angel and we’re thrilled you’re here.

Valyarus: What doesn't kill me better start running, because now I'm fucking pissed.

Crow: I'm naturally funny because my life is a joke.

Crow: Don’t worry, I have a permit. Valyarus: ...This just says “I can do what I want”.

Maritza: You’re alive. Marlon: No need to sound so disappointed.

Daleira: You’re not gonna shoot a puppy, are you, Marlon!? Marlon: Yeah, in the face, why?

Marlon: I don't dab. I stab.

*the squad is at a dinner party but someone has been murdered* Crow: You’re acting pretty carefree for someone whose life’s at stake. Who’s to say you aren’t the killer? Valyarus: It’s a murder, not a tax audit. I’ll be fine. Ponderosa: What about Maritza? Nobody ever suspects Maritza! Maritza: Well, what about Marlon? He has a gun! Marlon: Crow has a knife. Crow: Yeah, for fun, not for murder! *stabs Ponderosa in the arm*

Ponderosa: Onion rings are vegetable donuts. Freya, used to Ponderosa being dumb: Sure... Ponderosa: Your stomach thinks all potatoes are mashed. Freya: Okay? Ponderosa: Lasagna is spaghetti flavored cake. Freya: Ponderosa: Lobsters are mermaid scorpio- Freya: Jesus, that one is a little- Marlon, interested: No, no, Ponderosa, keep going.

Crow: I am darkness. I am a power. I am your worst nightmare. I could kill a man in more ways than you can imagine. I am the night. I am fury, I am a weapon, I am- Daleira: A doll. Freya: A cinnamon roll. Maritza: A sweetheart. Crow: Crow: ... stop it.

Daleira: Where’s Crow? Freya: Doing stuff. Daleira: I don’t like the sound of that. Where’s Marlon? Freya: Trying to stop Crow from doing the stuff. Daleira: And Ponderosa? Freya: Trying to stop Marlon from stopping Crow from doing the stuff. Daleira: I see. And what are you doing here, Freya? Freya: I’m supposed to stop you from stopping Ponderosa from stopping Marlon from stopping Crow from doing the stuff.

THE ARCANE RIFTS

Gene: When I first got my autism diagnosis, my first thought was “woah… it’s canon” and I think that maybe thoughts like that is why Tazin made me get tested.

Gene: Self-care is suppressing all your trauma until it comes back and hits you in the face with the force of 7 very large trucks. (to be fair that's a LOT of my characters tho I'm ngl...)

Tazin: *closes a cabinet* *a crash is heard behind the cabinet door* Gene: What was that? Tazin: The sound of someone else's problem.

Rada: Something tells me Tazin's going to be a bit more unhinged today... Tazin, holding a lit match and a bag of cheetos: Leave me be, Gene isn't home to stop me, I'm going feral.

Gene: What's gone wrong, Tazin? Tazin: Hey! That’s one hell of a thing to say to a person. Just because I’m calling doesn’t mean there’s a crisis. Gene: That’s technically true, I suppose. Why are you calling? Tazin: Well... There’s a crisis.

Gene: I have a bad feeling about this, guys. Ludmila: Oh don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Tazin: Yeah, what’s the worst that could happen? Gene, being bailed out of jail the next morning: I hate you all.

Gene: Why are you smiling? Tazin: What? I can’t just be happy? Ludmila: Mislav tripped and fell in the parking lot.

*Tazin gets a phone call* Tazin: Hello? Gene: Hi, is Mislav there? I need to talk to him. Tazin: No, Mislav is dead. Mislav, very much alive next to Tazin: TAZIN WHAT THE FUCK-

Mislav: Any idiot would know that. Tazin: I knew that! Mislav: See?

Adilzhan: We have a problem. Gene: Let me guess, you caused it? Ivan: Gimme a sec, I'm not drunk enough to listen to this yet. Ludmila: And it's another Tuesday, your point? Mislav: Would shooting you solve this problem? No? Then shut up. Tazin: If you're mean the fire, that's our solution to last week's problem.

Tazin: *pretending to joke* So when are you going to go out with me? Alyona: I don't know. When are you going to ask me to? Gene: And you just ran away?! Tazin: I didn't expect her to flirt back!

Rada: To be honest, I'm kinda pissed that I'm not asleep in bed next to the love of my life in a cottage with no obligations other than watering my vegetable garden.

Nikolai, trying to flirt: So, you come around here often? Damaris, confused: I mean, this is my house, so yeah.

Gene: Adults are the most insanely stupid people I have the displeasure of interacting with. Caspar, referring to himself and Gennadi: Even us? Gene: Especially you guys. Gennadi: Caspar: Gennadi: Petition to kick Gene out so he stops insulting us. Caspar: Seconded.

Dimitry, Entering Gene's room: Tazin did it again. Gene: Peace disturbance? Dimitry: What no- Gene: Arson..? Dimitry: NO, JESUS CHRIST, HOW MANY- Gene: uh....Attempted murder? Dimitry: NO, HE ATE ALL THE FOOD IN THE FRIDGE, BUT WHAT THE FU-

Dimitry: How long do you reckon it’ll be until Gene finally snaps and commits murder? Rada: I’ve been going through life assuming it’s already happened at some point and it’s just that no one was ever able to trace it back to him.

Tazin: Thank God you were there. Dimitry. I knew you wouldn't let your best friend die. Dimitry: I'm still gonna arrest you. I just can't do that if you're dead. Tazin: Whatever you gotta tell yourself. Baby steps. It's hard getting him out of his shell.

Misc that I inserted the characters into because they were too perfect:

Dalma, carrying a box: What would you say if- if I, hypothetically, came home with 7 kittens one day? Torcaiz: … Torcaiz: What’s in the box? Dalma: What woul- Torcaiz: Dalma, what’s in the box? Dalma: I think you know.

Elazi: Roman, what is the ONE thing I asked you NOT to do tonight? Roman: Raise the dead. Elazi: And what did you do? Roman: Raise the dead.

Kieva: I thought you were going to give me a book recommendation or something. Sammy: *laughs* Book recommendation? I can’t read!

Kieva: Father, I have sinned. Tián: Daddy, I’ve been naughty.

Fate: Chaos, wake up! Chaos, half asleep: Five more minutes… Fate: You’ve been in a coma for two years! Chaos: … Chaos: Okay, two more minutes…

Storm: Murder literally doesn’t hurt anyone! Ice: What are you talking about? Of course— Earth, holding out a hand to shut Ice up: No, no, they have a point—

I... changed the colors to match the modern versions, but besides that and the title headers?

This thing is EXACTLY how I'd left it all those months ago.

Idek why I've procrastinated in posting it for so long.

Taglist: @honeybewrites @the-golden-comet @illarian-rambling @ashirisu @urnumber1star

@the-letterbox-archives @48lexr @aalinaaaaaa @thecomfywriter @an-indecisive-nerd

@seastarblue

Dividers by @saradika