#so to see a character do the exact same thing was wild

[corvusalbus93]

Happy to hear; I often worry I ramble on too long (the ADHD-mind is a restless mind XD) And thanks – I had a pretty good idea who that Tav was when I started, but I too continued to develop her, and get a better sense of who she is as a character as I played.

My Tav does actually when possible go out of her way to help; her parents were Eilistraee worshippers. To help people, especially those in need, would have been something she’d have learned early on, even though the goddess was canonically dead and said parents died when she was really young. Though Eilistraee has come back in recent years, Tav isn’t actively worshipper her (though I wouldn’t rule out she might eventually), but her views align quite well with her church. For now/in game she’s more concerned with defying Lolth and not being the stereotypical drow everyone expects her to be. In other words: When in doubt, what would Lolth not do?

Okay that’s funny, cause my second Tav (Tamiel) is also a wild magic sorcerer– but he’s a tiefling, multiclass bard. Basically, he tried to find a way he could use magic without the risk of blowing up and semi-succeeded, as long as it’s bard-specific. When things get serious that’s when he gets out his sorcerer spells and all bets are off. (Another I play a githyannki Hexblade, who spent a few too many years in the Shadowfell and now seeks to avenge a friend who’s ascended, after she found out what that actually means.)

I swear Minthara’s favourite spell is “Viscous Mockery” and she isn’t even a bard.

I was worried to, once I’d decided to go with him, so I honestly checked if his first invitation was Tav’s one and only chance to initiate the romance plot-line. When I learned there was a second I had Tav get out of the conversation with a maybe... before she presumably went to hide on the “beach” with Wyll 😅.

Oh gods, I have the exact same with my second Tav and Gale. Those two boys are so cute together, but I don’t feel as invested, even now as I enter Act 3. I’m curious how it’s going to be with my Hexblade and Karlach, because they are not far enough into the story yet.

Yeah, he kinda ended up being the number one vampire-hater in this game (besides the Gur maybe).

I think Astarion did want to ascend, at least to get the power and the safety it represented to him – not to mention getting some justice/payback for what he had to endure these past two centuries. All of this made the rite so enticing, so think at least part of him did want to. He’s a good example of “we don’t always want the things that are good/best for us”. But he was nonetheless conflicted (especially once he sees Sebastian and learns the real number of souls), and then was confronted with the true cost. Himself, or at least the person he’s shaped and grown into since his escape. He’s already lost himself once, when he became a spawn and he doesn’t want that again.

It’s kind of a pattern with him. He accepted becoming a spawn to save himself, only to learn the true cost. Then at the start of the game he favours the tadpoles and the power they offer, until we get the Astral Touched Tadpole and finds out that he would turn. He straight up says he’s not touching that thing, before telling you the horrors of his vampire transformation. And then in Act 3, he shifts to the rite, begins to obsess over it.

And I love that the game explicitly tells you in the dungeon that he’s blinded by fear. Fear and hunger, he’s intoxicated and not thinking clearly. Which is when you can get through and remind him that he won’t be freed by this power. And indeed AA, while no longer be plagued by his hunger for blood, now hungers for even more power, thus continuing the overreaching and self-destructive cycle all vampires fall into. While Spawn Astarion can really be anything.

(Side note: I really love how after getting back to his feet, standing next to Tav and addressing his sibling , talking about the opportunities they all now have, “I want to live” starts playing for a bit. That’s no accident!)

I think it is in one of the conversations he can have with Durge that he reveals he realized one can’t live ruled by fear – which feels so meaningful coming from him, considering the rite and what the insight check reveals (I would have to check when this conversation exactly happens, haven’t completed Durge yet either).

Yeah, a ruthless Tav would only reinforce his established worldview, and I don’t think it would be realistic for him to open up to them as it would be with a neutral or good Tav. When it comes to cruelty I think he enjoys the sense of being the one in control/power. Especially early on, when his worldview has not been challenged yet, he will expect dynamics, where one party exerts power over another - that’s the only way things can be and he knows which side he’d rather be on.

I think the approval becomes less useful the further we get into the game. Especially in Act 3, depending on your choices you can be his partner, his friend, you can hate each other, not to mention he can be Ascended or a Spawn. All of which would wildly affect his character. They couldn’t possibly account for all of that so I think the approvals/disapprovals are not necessarily an accurate reflections for one’s individual playthrough, and maybe represent more of a baseline for him.

Oh yes, Act 2 is the real starts. And the two possible confession scenes are both really touching. I was also happy to get a scene with my sorcerer-bard after Araj, during which he could affirm his friendship with Astarion (I like to think that Tav distracts people with song, while Astarion pick-pockets, so now they are no longer allowed to go out alone together).

Always happy to chat; hope I haven’t overdone it.

The Truth Behind the Mask

(1/? part of “Astarion: In Search of True Self” — [masterpost here])

Even before I played, I kept stumbling upon Astarion fanart and memes that made me assume he was just some overrated character who was only popular because of his flirty, sassy attitude (I’m so sorry Q^Q). That’s why I didn’t have the best first impression even before I started.

And even in-game, when you first meet him, Astarion seems like a shallow, selfish and flirty guy - someone who doesn’t really care what others think and just follows his whims.

Couldn’t be further from the truth!

From what I’ve seen in some discussions on social media, though, a lot of players still hold that first impression - even after completing his route. I’ve even seen people call him a red flag, label him evil or say they were disappointed in general.

Also, I feel like most guides (at least the ones I’ve come across) simplify his character too much - mainly focusing on which choices will gain his approval or disapproval. Maybe that’s to avoid spoilers, but still. There are definitely other players who see the deeper layers too - so this is just my way of sharing my personal journey of discovering the real Astarion.

So, how did that first impression start to unravel? When checking with the guide and watching his reactions and body language, I started thinking about why the approval/disapproval tips work.

How Approval Looks on the Surface

Let’s look at some general tips for gaining Astarion’s approval points: 

choosing evil replies/actions 

seeking power 

siding with evil characters 

deceiving your opponents  

supporting his desires  

being understanding and accepting towards him 

(bonus one, haven’t seen guides mention this) sarcastic replies  

And disapproval points: 

making pompous heroic statements (like “Worry not! I shall save everyone!”) 

helping the weak 

being open about your party's situation (tadpoles)

being judgmental or unsupportive towards him  

naive/goodie-two-shoes responses  

In most cases, it is explained by his natural inclination towards evil forces and power, making Astarion seem like a self-centred and power-hungry vampire who might, with Tav’s influence, turn to become a bit of a better person. Or not. 

But while it’s technically true that those actions affect his approval, there’s much more nuance to why Astarion reacts the way he does - especially in the early stages.

So what's really going on?

The first contradiction that made me feel confused about the reasons for Astarion’s reactions was how nice Tav is being to him (of course, if you chose good replies during their interactions) – a person who is mean to everyone else would be just as mean to Astarion. It didn’t make sense to me; a kind and understanding Tav would fit much better in the story.  

So what is going on there? Why does Astarion need a kind and gentle Tav who is cold and dismissive to the rest of the world?

Because he is terrified.  

When we first meet our pale elf, he has just escaped (as in been kidnapped) from 200 years of slavery, humiliation and torture where his wellbeing completely depended on Cazador’s whims and every mistake meant punishment. Of course he’s paranoid. Of course he’s always calculating risk. 

It’s not about Tav’s choices being good or evil, it’s about their possible consequences for Astarion. He doesn’t want Tav to be evil, he just wants to feel safe. That’s all.  

Let’s Look at That List Again

So let’s look at his approval/disapproval list again: 

refusing to help someone - approve! we don’t want to risk 

seeking power - yes, please! power means safety!

siding up with evil characters - they are strong, so why not use this to our benefit? 

deceiving your opponents - we didn’t even have to fight and got want we wanted? don’t see a problem  

supporting his desires - maybe this time, I won’t have to fight for what I want

being understanding and accepting towards him - finally someone doesn't treat me as a monster

sarcasm - humor is our everything, especially when there’s nothing else left 

On the other hand:

making pompous heroic statements - you are saying these cringe things with a straight face AND putting us in danger? hard nope! 

helping the weak - no one helped me, why should we bother 

disclosing truth about their situation - have you heard about caution?!  

being judgmental or unsupportive towards him - no thanks, had enough of that

naive/goodie-two-shoes responses - are we going to be fine with a leader like that?..  

What Kind of Tav Does He Need?

Astarion isn’t looking for an "evil" Tav - he’s looking for safety. Well, technically, he isn’t looking for anyone at all. But the kind of Tav he opens up to tends to be:

pragmatic, cautious and clever

emotionally intelligent

non-judgmental

strong enough to lead and survive

That’s why he feels comfortable with a Tav who might choose to be distant toward strangers but treats him with consistent care. In this context it’s not suspicious, it’s sensible. He doesn’t expect help from the world, and he respects those who understand that reality. In a hostile world, survival is more likely in a group, so he clings to the party and tries to secure his place using the only tools he knows: charm, wit and usefulness. And a part of that strategy, making sure the leader favors him and he won’t be cast aside, leads to his initial approaches for Tav. But we’ll get into that more in another post.

So if Tav shows kindness to him? That’s exactly what he’s aiming for. And it doesn’t even matter that much if they still go out of their way to help others - because if the care they show him feels real, that already shifts something deep inside. That already gives him a reason to start hoping that this might be real.

The Mask

So there’s the charm, the flirtation, the flair for drama. Some players may read that as shallow or even foolish. But it’s not. It’s a mask - one he’s worn so well and for so long that it feels real. It’s what kept him alive under Cazador for the last 200 years.

But if you keep going, if you give him time and space to feel safe, you start to see it slip. The closer Tav gets to him, the more glimpses we get of his real self - thoughtful and warm, wary and sharp, sometimes silly and awkward, and, beneath it all, deeply hurt. And if you stay with him through to the end, when he finally feels safe enough to stop performing, his whole demeanor changes. He’s calmer. More grounded. Still witty - but in a different way.

Still Astarion. Just more himself.

<next part>

<back to masterpost>

[orionshounds]

he cares so much about them, but he has never known how to show it

and now, it’s too late.

[kaythefloppa]

I feel as though Wild Kratts is going to redeem one/more/all of its villains before Season 7 ends; I don't know, I feel it in my bones and I don't know how to feel about it.

[benetnvsch]

genuinely baffling to me how much of a victim complex some skk shippers have

YEAH yeah aouhghh-

like,, its one thing if people were actively harassing/bothering them but there is no reason for Those Types of skk-ers to be So Upset about other ships just existing (and to just,,doing the same things that they do in terms of relating/redrawing other ships moments to theirs)

I mean come on,, just look the other way,, no need to cry cuz someone chose to make Dazai to kiss different colored pile of pixels today

[runecatwrites]

Let’s talk about Warriors and Wild

This was another “weird” pairing that came out of the latest update.

You’d think that the two with no dungeon experience should each be paired with someone more experienced, right? Well, Warriors isn’t really thinking about that. He has a different motive for choosing Wild to team up with, and no, it’s not because he’s “mad” at him. The reason actually reveals a lot about both of their characters, and displays a great deal of character growth on Warriors' part specifically.

Deep dive under the cut!

Okay first off, let’s get something out of the way. Just because Warriors and Wild have no traditional dungeon experience, that doesn’t make them ill-equipped. Warriors has tons of combat experience and is demonstrably very intelligent. And Wild? Sure he didn’t have traditional dungeons in BotW, but you know what he did have? Puzzles. A TON of puzzles. That guy can do puzzles in his sleep. I highly doubt that he’s gonna have trouble with dungeon puzzles once he figures out how to approach them (which won’t take long).

All right, now that we have that cleared up, moving on!

From the very beginning, Wars holds great respect for Wild:

Because at the start of the adventure, Warriors doesn't realize just how different he is from the others. He gets put with a bunch of guys who share his name and his spirit, so of course he thinks his experience isn’t unique. They’re all just like him, right?

Okay, uh, maybe not? But they still can’t be that different, Warriors thinks. Sky is also a knight, and he acts exactly the way Warriors expects a knight to act.

He catches onto plans immediately:

And follows through flawlessly:

It’s not about authority and Sky’s ability to follow orders. It’s about the fact that Sky is on the same page. He went to military school. He has extensive training. He knows what to do and when, with barely any prompting, because he’s been taught to think the same way Warriors thinks. Warriors and Sky work together perfectly because of this:

But with Wild? Warriors is expecting the exact same thing with Wild, a fellow knight, but what he gets from the Champion is far from what he gets with Sky. This is very unexpected for Warriors. He gives what he thinks is a clear directive:

“Clear out the rest” to Warriors and Sky means “get rid of all the little guys so we can focus on the big guy.” Solid strategy. But Wild does not interpret this the same way, because he does not remember his military training and therefore any of the strategy he was taught. “Clear out the rest” just means get rid of everyone to him. And he decides to eliminate the biggest threat first. It’s important to note here that he’s not “defying orders” because his emotions are getting the better of him, or even because he thinks he shouldn't have been given orders. The way he sees it, he is following orders. Warriors said “clear out the rest.” And that’s what Wild’s helping to do. But then afterwards? Warriors is angry!

The plan? What plan? There was no plan! The goal was just to get rid of everyone! Why does it matter if Wild took out the big guy before the little guys?

It’s at this point that Wild realizes he’s done something wrong, but he doesn’t know what he’s done wrong. (Any other neurodivergent folks here? If so, yeah, you know how this feels. I know I do.)

It’s clear through subsequent interactions that Wild genuinely does not understand what the problem is:

He thought he made the right move, but others don’t seem to think so. He’s already emotional, and this is just adding more fuel to the fire. He snaps, starts a fight with Four, and runs off still feeling confused.

Meanwhile, Warriors is also confused. Why didn’t Wild act the way Warriors thought he would? He’s a knight, right? Why did he do what he did, and how did he not understand that his choice of strategy was incorrect after?

And it’s not just Wild that Warriors failed to read correctly; the others are clashing with him too. Case in point, Twilight’s refusal to hang back after being injured:

In the aftermath of the battle, it’s at this point that Warriors makes a realization: he’s the one who made a mistake. He had preconceived expectations of people, and that ended up majorly backfiring on him.

Warriors knows that he can't be a good teammate - and a good leader - if he doesn't understand where his companions are coming from. Again, it's not about authority, it's about being on the same page. Ever since, he has been trying to seek better understanding. Maybe Wild doesn't feel comfortable taking orders from Warriors, and only listens to those he knows well?

But Twilight said, "No he doesn't." Huh. Okay. Well, maybe Warriors can try to get inside Wild's head? Let's try some bantering! These guys love to banter!

Oops. Fumble. That didn't go well. But hey, at least Wild seems to have figured out what he did wrong!

That's a step in the right direction! Okay, they're getting somewhere, Warriors thinks.

But Wild is really down on himself. He now realizes that he misinterpreted a directive that he should have understood. And thinks that Warriors thinks he's stupid, and hates him. (Again, where my neurodivergent peeps at? Yeah. That feeling.)

Meanwhile, things are becoming clearer to Warriors. Not only does he realize that he shouldn't have viewed his teammates through his own preconceived notions, but for the first time, he also realizes just how different his experience was from everyone else's:

He realizes he's got a LOT of learning to do. His discordance with Wild is proof of that. But Wild has never been in a dungeon either. Maybe this is their chance to connect? Warriors tries once again to get inside Wild's head. Maybe he can try to understand why Wild isn't approaching this dungeon the way Warriors would:

Aaaaand Wild froze up. Dang it. Warriors isn't getting anything. He really needs to figure out what's going wrong here so they can work together. It's for both of their benefit, and the group's benefit as a whole. They need to get on the same page so that they can not only fight together, but be good friends to each other. And when the opportunity arises to team up one-on-one, Warriors jumps at it! This is the perfect opportunity, he thinks!

But right now? Wild doesn't realize that. He thinks that Warriors is mad at him. Warriors is NOT mad at him. Warriors is trying to learn, to better himself, and to forge a connection.

And I believe that even though it's been a bumpy road, we're going to see some amazing growth between Warriors and Wild in the future.

[gloomygloworm]

I open Dragon Age: The Veilguard

I play the game, and I think to myself ‘weird I thought this was a choices and politics game ft metaphors from real history like slavery’ 

My friends go “you’re right that’s what it’s supposed to be but this game is lacking those things”

I go “oh bummer that sucks, I like moral quandaries.”

I see a post that publicly wonders why people are upset that one of the main metaphors (slavery) is missing from the game.

I respond saying yeah its weird that people are complaining that a Big Metaphor is missing from the Big Metaphor Game

I get asked what part of the game matches the Main Metaphor, and I respond with “well, the elves are second class citizens.” I am doing research specifically on the elves. I read in the wiki, with sources, that yeah, no, I’m right, the Church said “if you kiss an elf that’s basically the same thing as kissing a dog.” Elves don’t have rights in most of the countries that the other games are in. One of these places in the North is the Big Metaphor Place where they looooove the Big Metaphor and using the Big Metaphor, but I get called weird for wondering why it’s mostly absent from the game.

I open my blinds and find out that National Holocaust Remembrance Day is no longer a federal holiday. I also find out that my government is trying to "deport" the native citizens of said country. I go back online and find a thread from 2009 where one of the writers explicitly states “Yeah the Dalish started as a metaphor for the Roma but evolved into more like the Native Americans, and the Andrastean Elves are like the Jewish during Nazi Occupied Germany.”

I say “oh okay so Tevinter is like Nazi Occupied Germany. Yeah it’s weird that they’ve kind of sanitized this place and I can’t find the evidence of this anywhere.”

Someone calls me weird again and tells me to read the Codex. Someone else mentions the very beginning of the game, where you see shackles on the ground and there is mention of an elf who is freeing slaves, none of which I witness. I wonder if the slaves are in the room with me. 

Someone else mentions that this is the first time we see Tevinter without any biases, mentioning two characters, Dorian and Fenris.

My friends, horrified, tell me Fenris is an ex-slave (who can be given BACK to his slave owner) and Dorian’s family are Slave Owners. I think to myself huh that’s kind of a weird thing to say considering the biases are “I was a slave” and “Yeah my family owns slaves but that’s kinda bad huh” cause that’s the same exact concept. 

I say “well elves don’t have rights, that sucks, but I wish we got to see more of their day to day. I hear about these alienages that in other games we’ve been able to see, it’s weird there isn’t one in the very poor part of the Capital of the Big Metaphor Place, where there would be a high number of these people.”

Someone says “why do you want to see them suffering? That’s weird.”

I say “yeah but there’s beauty in adversity and I didn’t write the game, I want to see this big tree the alienages supposedly have as a sort of last hope for the city elves to cling to their lost culture.” 

Someone calls me weird.

I open my blinds and politicians and big public figures are giving Nazi salutes in public rallies. 

I boot up Veilguard.

I boot up Origins and get called a slur within the first five minutes of the game. 

I picked a circle elven mage, but I use youtube to look up the city elf origin and go “oh holy fuck wow they just put it right out there huh? That’s the world state, now I know.”

Someone tells me that I should play the game because I would enjoy being sexually assaulted and violated.

I literally don’t have a response to that in any comprehensive way because that is a wild thing to say to a stranger. It is, in fact, two subjects I have intimate knowledge of as a victim of both domestic abuse and sexual assault. 

Someone tells me to just read the Codex.

Someone tells me to just read the Diary of Anne Frank.

I buy the art book for Veilguard and see that some of the major players they nixed were ex-slaves. I look at Reva and I say “oh hey cool concept” 

Someone calls me an idiot online and I laugh while closing my blinds, because purity culture is once more making a comeback and if I licked a single rock in Arlathan all I’d taste was bleach.

[squidsquidsquidsquidsquidgame]

Hello! First of all, I want to say that I love your writing. I saw that you write for BIGBANG, and here’s my idea ;) The reader is a highly successful solo artist, as acclaimed as G-Dragon, and has been secretly dating him for a few months. Both try to keep everything under wraps, away from the spotlight... or at least they try. Over time, fans of both began to suspect the relationship. The reason? Instagram posts. You shared photos at specific locations: a cozy restaurant, an exclusive Chanel event... and just a few hours later, G-Dragon posted a selfie from the exact same place. Coincidence? Definitely not. But the real chaos started on a completely unexpected day. You were doing a relaxed live stream at his house, answering fan questions and talking about your new album. Everything was going well... until, out of nowhere, he walked into the room while you were still live, completely unaware and tired from work, not even realizing you were broadcasting. He greeted you with a sweet kiss before you could say anything, and the chat went wild, causing both of you to end up revealing the relationship.

Dating who?!

Character: Gdragon/Jiyong X fem!reader

Summary:✨️ As above✨️

warnings: none

One Fanon part where everything goes well

And one canon part...and oh boy we know how things end when kpop idols date

FANON

The first rule you both agreed on: no one finds out.

It wasn't even about shame or secrets—it was about peace. Being two of the most talked-about artists in South Korea meant headlines erupted over the smallest things: outfit choices, lyrics, friendships. So dating each other? That would be media meltdown. Paparazzi whiplash. Fanbase wars. TikTok theories for months.

And so, the game of quiet glances and sneaky night drives began.

The second rule? No Instagram giveaways.

You tried. You really did.

But apparently, your fanbases had the deductive skills of MI6. You posted a blurry, romantic shot of a candlelit table at a restaurant in Hannam-dong—captioned with a simple “mood.” Three hours later, Ji-Yong uploaded a mirror selfie from the men’s room of the same place. Different angle. Same red roses in the background. Fans noticed.

Then came the Chanel event in Paris. You didn’t post photos together, of course not. But yours showed the left wing of the venue. His? The right. Same lighting. Same minute.

One fan wrote on X:

“I don’t mean to be a delulu, but G-Dragon and [Y/N] are either the best coordinated strangers on earth or they’re literally dating.”

Over 2 million likes.

And yet, both of you denied nothing, confirmed nothing. It was kind of fun, actually—this cat-and-mouse game. A private world in plain sight.

Until the Tuesday livestream.

It wasn’t even meant to be dramatic. You were at his place, in his studio, promoting your upcoming album in an easy, stripped-down way. You had tea. You wore one of his hoodies, oversized and soft, with the sleeves swallowing your hands. Fans in the comments were loving it.

> “Are you at home?”

> “No way, that’s not your studio???”

> “Why do those shelves look familiar...”

> “You and G-Dragon got the same interior designer, huh?”

You laughed it off. “I’m borrowing a friend’s space while mine gets renovated. But anyway! Track five on the album is actually—”

The door creaked.

And there he was.

G-Dragon himself, eyes sleepy, shirt untucked, running a hand through his hair as he stepped in without looking up. “Babe, did you eat—”

He froze mid-step, seeing your face. You froze too.

He blinked at the open laptop camera. “…Are you live?”

You didn’t answer fast enough.He just sighed, chuckled softly, walked over, and pressed a lazy kiss to your forehead. “Hi, guys,” he mumbled like it was no big deal—like he wasn’t one of the most recognizable people in Asia casually appearing in your frame and confirming months of fan speculation with one sleepy gesture.

The chat exploded.

> “DID HE JUST CALL YOU BABE???”

> “I KNEW IT I KNEW IT I KNEW ITTTT”

> “REPLAY BUTTON WHERE”

> “not g-dragon being boyfriend-coded omg”

> “YALL IM SHAKING”

You covered your face in embarrassment. He laughed behind you and whispered, “Should we just tell them?”

You peeked through your fingers. “I guess there’s no hiding now.

”He winked at the camera. “Hi, I’m Ji-Yong. I’ve been dating this amazing woman for a few months now. Please be kind.”

And just like that, your soft secret turned into the world’s favorite headline.

The funny thing? Neither of you regretted it.

Turns out, being seen was kind of beautiful—especially when the person beside you made everything feel like home.

CANON

Nobody really expected you and G-Dragon to fall in love.

You weren’t supposed to.

You were both titans of the industry, solo artists with global reputations, designer deals, and fanbases who practically monitored your every breath. But somewhere between mutual respect and quiet moments behind closed doors, it happened. A look across the room during an awards afterparty. A shared drink in a hidden corner of an upscale lounge. A hand brushing yours that lingered just a little too long.

And suddenly, the most powerful secret in K-pop was born.

Months of subtle glances, hushed laughter, and carefully planned getaways. You had both become masters of misdirection—separate exits, private cars, burner phones. Your DMs were a graveyard of deleted messages. But even professionals slip.It started small.

An Instagram story of you at a dimly-lit Michelin-star restaurant in Itaewon. Soft jazz playing in the background, a wine glass in your hand.

Three hours later, G-Dragon posted a selfie from the same place. Different angle. Same wine. Same jazz.

Fans caught on fast.

Reddit threads bloomed like cherry blossoms in spring. TikToks with freeze-frames and arrows pointing out identical candle placements. Some fans were rooting for you, calling you the king and queen of Korean music. Others weren’t so nice.

The theories were manageable, though. Deniable. You and Jiyong brushed it off behind closed doors, joking about it under blankets while watching reruns of Reply 1988

Then came the Chanel event.

You were invited first. Posted a picture in front of a mirrored wall in a black velvet dress, the city lights blurred behind you.

He posted later, tagging no one, but standing in front of that same mirrored wall, half-smiling in a pinstripe suit.

By then, chaos was a simmer. The media hadn't touched it yet. You thought you had time.

But then that livestream happened.

You were tired. Relaxed. Sitting in his apartment, curled up on the couch with your new album playing softly in the background. You decided to go live—nothing fancy, just chatting with fans about your inspiration and the writing process.

The living room lights were dim. You looked soft and natural in a hoodie—his hoodie.At first, everything went fine. Fans were distracted by your music updates, asking about your upcoming music video and joking about how cozy the vibe looked. Then—he came in.

Jiyong entered the room, hair messy, shirt untucked, visibly exhausted from a long day. His eyes barely registered the phone propped up. He mumbled, “Hey, baby,” and kissed the top of your head like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You froze.

The chat exploded.

"WAIT."

"IS THAT GD??"

"THEY'RE DATING???"

"Y/N LOOKS LIKE THEY WANT TO DIE"

"SOMEONE SCREEN RECORD THIS NOW"

Jiyong blinked at the camera. Slowly. "…Oh. You're live?"

You scrambled to end it. Too late. Twitter had already caught fire.

The headlines the next morning were merciless:

> “G-Dragon and [Y/N]: K-pop’s Power Couple Exposed?”

> “Dispatch Was Right: A Timeline of Their Hidden Romance”

> “YG and [Your Company] Respond to Dating Scandal”

The companies were furious.

The higher-ups called emergency meetings. Public image teams panicked.

The decision was swift, brutal, clinical: breakup. Apology videos. No exceptions.You both fought it. You begged behind closed doors. But the industry didn’t care about love. It cared about contracts, money, and optics.

You filmed the apology videos separately. Black background. Neutral clothing. Voice trembling.

You were forced to say you had made “a poor decision that caused confusion to fans.”

Jiyong was made to say he "deeply respected [you] as an artist" but that the rumors were “misunderstandings.”

You didn’t speak for a while after that. What was there to say?

But one night—weeks later—you got a text from him.

> "Same place as our first date. 11PM. Come if you want."

You went.

He was waiting at your usual booth, eyes tired but soft. You sat down silently.

After a long moment, he reached across the table, fingers brushing yours.

“I know the whole world wants us to pretend we never happened,” he said, “but I don’t think I can lie about you forever.”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t have to.

You squeezed his hand instead.

And this time, when the server brought the wine, G-Dragon pulled out his phone and snapped a photo. He posted it in real time.

And across the city, in a quiet apartment, you did the same.

Let them talk.

[essektheylyss]

Matt has such an interesting comment in Cooldown, of "It's wonderful and wild and against the usual format of TTRPG narrative to start so bad and slowly climb towards more calm and hope." Because I actually disagree if we consider this statement to the letter, but I also think it hits on the exact point of Divergence.

The thing about the fantasy TTRPG narrative, as Matt is referencing it, is that it doesn't necessarily have anything to do with hope. It has to do with power and agency, and action, but it doesn't necessarily have to involve hope. I do think it involves a striving toward peace, because that is theoretically a goal of war, and D&D and the fantasy TTRPGs that have arisen in that legacy are based upon war games.

And this story isn't actually pushing against that format. It's simply reframing it, telling the story not of the battle won but what comes after, that we so rarely stick around to see. This is the end of someone's epic story, that we've arrived in at the eleventh hour: as the gods and their armies depart from this plane after an age of war, attempting to keep the rest of the world from total annihilation, and leaving it—as is so often the case in the wake of war, real and imagined—in ruin. It's the same story, but to put it simply, we so rarely see what grows in its wake.

The Divergence party are not the typical TTRPG heroes, and it's entirely possible they may never become those heroes. They may remain people, perhaps above average but fundamentally still people, who step up and rebuild, as someone must after the heroes collect accolades or leave in mourning or try to live in the peace they have, ostensibly, won, regardless of whether they have put in the work to make that peace a place worth living in.

The people left, as these characters were left in the abandoned walls of Rybad-Kol, have little choice but to put in that work, but they have chosen to do so regardless, and that alone is what makes them heroic in this new age.

[otterloreart]

Steps of creating a 3D model replica from scratch

trace photos of character from available and cleanest angles. attempt to get a 90 degree*, front and back, side profile and straight on of the face. save additional reference photos such as bottom of body, back, and various extra angles without tracing which may help reference later on.

*more on angles later, but trying to get a 90 degree from each side is the most realistic and practical option if you dont actually have the character you're copying

2. block out the body and head

and by block i mean, yeah, its made out of elaborate rectangles

4 aha, you thought I would hand sculpt those? no. no. I used the curve tool to add these swirls. And yes i exactly traced them over the drawings to match the original as best as possible. The end of the curve tool is flat by default so I added a few spheres to make the ends nice and round. (there is absolutely a way to make the ends of curves rounded but I did not feel like looking it up or messing with the settings)

this wasn't mirrored to the other side- I traced both sides of the body and the front from photos and sculpted the swirls for each side. I couldn't get a single photo of the swirls at the butt area so I just winged it.

6 I am struggling to not make Cha Cha look angry.

I feel like the eyes are basically traced off the original and yet she looks so much grumpier. maybe it just needs to be smoothed out?

I added a little definition to the area around the eyes and I do think it looks a little better. The more definition I add in this stage the better, because I prefer this to sculpting. However, if you're more adept at sculpting you would probably not make this as detailed.

7 Here she is after smoothing everything out in sculpt after remeshing, in both Eevee (left) and Cycles (middle/right). still trying to figure out how best to render things. For some reason her nose ended up lighter in cycles but i cant be bothered to fix that rn

On the previous step I made the elements of her face + ears mirrored but once I start sculpting I'm not using the mirror tool. In fact nothing ends up mirrored, even the back right foot is slightly shifted in position.

this is probably not even the final version, I think i might redo the smooth/sculpt part and fiddle with the underlying shapes (basically go back a step)

Cha Cha's face. is one of the most difficult things to sculpt. It is extremely difficult to understand the shape of the underlying sculpt because there aren't any photos of her with the eye paint removed. There are so few of her out there I don't think anyone would willingly remove the paint to make a custom or anything unless it was in truly awful condition, and I dont think that has ever happened.

I have saved dozens of references from a number of different sites- these pics here are from etsy, the above was from the wiki. Her eyes are different from every single other pony and pony and friends- they're so bulging, so round, the eyelashes are longer. It's wild.

I can only see all the things that are wrong with it.

It's basically impossible to get something like this 100% perfect unless you have like, a set of turnaround photos all from the same angle that you can match up to the camera. You can basically overlap references with the camera view but you will never know the exact angle so if you make edits from multiple angles like this you'll inevitably not match each angle and then have to go back and adjust the angles and then you're fiddling with it infinitely. That's why I usually go for the "trace 4 angles and make the rest up as you go along" method.

I don't want to spend _too_ long on every model I make- the Takara pony which took 6 months really shows how far down the rabbit hole I will go with something like this, and it's just not practical. But I think with a slight amount of fiddling I can match the reference a little better.

[yuikomorii]

// Every time I see someone say something like “X is better than Y because they didn’t *inserts bad thing*” unironically, I swear, I feel this overwhelming urge to show them proof that X did, in fact, do that too. It’s honestly exhausting, because there’s like a 99% chance your fav has done the exact same thing—or something just as bad—to someone at some point in the official material. Selective memory truly is wild.

Why do people even care so much about someone else disking a character they like? As long as they just focus on their fav, without bringing others down, I see no problem. It’s straight up impossible for a character to be loved by everyone anyway.

[olderthannetfic]

Saw a monetized fanart vs fanfic discussion out in the wild again and it reminded me of this theory I had. It wasn't that fandom artists were given a pass to monetize in a way that fandom writers weren't, it's that professional (and pro-to-be) artists co-opted fandom communities a few years back.

I used to aim for a studio-based illustration career, so I kept up to date on community discussions, watched every free "lesson" I could, made plans to build up a portfolio, etc. The amount of times I heard pro artists (employed at Disney, Sony, AAA studios, etc.) say that nowadays it's a good idea to include fanart in your portfolio was shocking at first, but genuinely everybody that was anybody was saying it. And of course it was another way to game the social media algorithm. I've listened to artists talk seriously about posting fanart to "bait" an audience into following them, intersperse it with original work, then post fanart again to keep people's attention. It was an entire thing.

And then of course you got the success stories. "I posted fanart of Miles Morales that got 100k likes on insta, and then I got a job offer to work on the next Spiderverse movie." In fact, people knew that art directors/hiring managers/whoever sends out the emails regularly browse their IP tags online for fanart AND in-person conventions to look for the next possible hire. Yes, even if they also periodically send cease and desists. I heard a funny story of a guy that got a takedown notice AND a job offer from the same company on the same day.

Obviously not every fan artist is doing this for the exact same reasons, and tbh there's a lot of artists coming up now that arrived at an art scene that to them has always been like this, so they just kind of do the same motions their art idols are doing without thinking to deeply about the why. I think the actual big shift happened when we all got blended together in the same social media sites, and the pro artists (that used to be VEHEMENTLY anti-fanart btw, I forgot to mention that) noticed the kind of reach and networking power appealing to an active and passionate community brought them. I could go on, but that's my main thought. Thanks for the soapbox lol.

--

My knowledge of fan art history is spotty compared to what I know about fic or vids because I've usually avoided the big art hangouts like DeviantArt due to not liking the culture.

What I do know is that there have been a number of these shifts, and there are a bunch of different factors contributing to this cultural divide. I've been told, for example, that a lot of Marvel and DC artists from decades ago paid the bills by selling other art of the characters that wasn't part of their official jobs (prints of portraits of a character they also drew for comics, etc.). It was a consequence of their shitty pay from the actual comics companies, and so the companies generally turned a blind eye.

There was also a pretty permeable membrane between pro sff artists of ye olde con culture and amateur ones, just like writers and others at those cons weren't really separate. The biggest pro name and the newest nobody were distinct, but it's more of a sliding scale between those than separate categories.

The chance to go viral in a way that Hollywood types can see on twitter/instagram/tiktok/etc. has definitely had a massive cultural impact though, and I doubt it's often a positive one.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I see that on the English server, Book 7 is titled “The Lord of Malevolence”, but i’ve noticed a lot more people online call it “Ruler of the Abyss”, and I was wondering if the latter is the literal translation of the name, or if there’s another reason why there’s varying titles? (Also noticed it’s the same for the other books as well)

If it’s a case of literal translation, could you compile a list comparing the lit. to the eng. titles of the main 7 books please?

I've compiled a list of the EN and JP book/episode names below, as per request, along with commentary.

Prologue: Welcome to the Villains’ world.

This is the only title that is the exact same in both EN and JP. Notably, it's also the only title that is written in English in both servers.

Book 1: The Rose-Red Tyrant / Episode 1: 真紅の暴君 (shinku no bōkun) or Crimson Tyrant

真紅 -> Crimson, の -> of, 暴君 -> Tyrant

Very literal translation of the Japanese here. EN tends to enjoy alliteration, so that’s likely why the color was localized as “Rose-Red”. Basically means the same thing as “Crimson” anyway.

Book 2: The Usurper from the Wilds / Episode 2: 荒野の反逆者 (kōya no hangyaku-sha) or Rebel of the Wilderness

荒野 -> Wilderness, の -> of, 反逆者 -> Rebel

In EN, book 2 uses the word "usurper", which refers to someone who takes a position of power illegally or by force. The original JP text uses 反逆者, meaning "rebel", or a person who rises in opposition or even armed resistance against an established ruler. The EN title therefore paints Leona in a much more unflattering light by placing emphasis on the immoral nature of his actions.

Book 3: The Merchant from the Depths / Episode 3: 深海の商人 (shinkai no shōnin) or Deep Sea Merchant

深海 -> Deep Sea, の -> of, 商人-> Merchant

Basically the same thing! EN just chose to localize “Deep Sea” as “the Depths”.

Book 4: Schemer of the Scalding Sands / Episode 4: 熱砂の策謀家 (nessa no sakubō-ka) or Hot Sands Schemer

熱砂 -> Hot Sand, の -> of, 策謀家 -> Schemer

Only notable difference here is just how Jamil’s home country is localized; Hot Sand becomes the Scalding Sands.

Book 5: A Beautiful Tyrant / Episode 5: 美貌の圧制者 (bibō no assei-sha) or Beautiful Oppressor

美貌 -> Beauty, の -> of, 圧制者 -> Oppressor

This one’s interesting. The word "tyrant" is used both in books 1 and 5 in EN. However, in JP, only book 1 uses 暴君 ("tyrant"). Book 5's title in Japanese uses 圧制者 (“oppressor”), not 暴君 (“tyrant”).

A tyrant is a ruler uses their power cruelly, but an oppressor is someone who exerts cruel and unjust treatments Some would say these are synonyms of each other, which may be why EN uses them for both books 1 and 5. 圧制者 (“oppressor”) can also be a different way to write “tyrant”, so it isn’t technically wrong.

Book 6: The Watchman of the Underworld / Episode 6: 冥府の番人 (meifu no bannin) or Watchman/Guard/Keeper of the Underworld

冥府 -> Hell/Underworld, の -> of, 番人 -> Watchman/Guard/Keeper

Basically the same thing! EN just had to choose which terms to use (Hell/Underworld and Keeper/Guard/Watchman)

Book 7: The Lord of Malevolence / Episode 7: 深淵の支配者 (shin’en no shihai-sha) or Ruler of the Abyss

深淵 -> Abyss, の -> of, 支配者 -> Ruler

EN opts for the gendered term “lord” (a man of high social ranking or authority), whereas JP has the gender neutral 支配者 (“ruler”).

EN also uses “malevolence”, which refers to the state of having or wishing to do evil unto others. JP uses “abyss”, which is a dark and seemingly bottomless chasm and has no reference to doing harm to anyone. (The “abyss” part of the JP name won’t make sense to you until like 7-295 so 💦 EN Twsties, you’ll just have to trust me when I say this isn’t a random word choice: even when you learn the context for the “abyss”, it doesn’t specifically refer to Malleus’s own darkness, but rather the darkness that lives in everyone.) Again, EN frames the titular character as being worse than its JP title does because the word choice implies evil.

I do find it ironic that Leona and Malleus are the only two who are depicted as more “evil” in their book titles in English than in Japanese. Those two really are rivals, even across language barriers…

[sapphicandgraphic]

The Girl Next Door—Chapter 8

Synopsis: A new neighbor turns Melissa’s world upside down.

Chapter: 8/10 (The Fight)

Series Warnings: Slow burn, angst, drama, hurt/comfort, eventual smut, protective Melissa, fem reader, age difference, WLW

Chapter Warnings: Drinking, jealous Melissa, past relationship trauma, hurt people hurt people, we’re in the home stretch of all this gay angst and I swear it will work out!

It had been one week since your “date” with Melissa. Two days since the “fire.” Your head felt like a trashed hotel room—TV busted, sheets shredded, graffiti on the walls—and your heart was the petulant rock star doing all the damage. You were carrying one hell of a torch for the girl next door; overanalyzing all the mixed signals she was sending; replaying the sound of her raspy voice; daydreaming about the way she looked when you caught her off guard, flustered her, made her laugh. It was delicious agony, a kind of sweet torture you’d never experienced before.

After your shift on Friday, you joined about a dozen other paramedics at the bar, everyone ready to decompress from the long week. Boone had barely ordered the first round before he launched into an animated retelling of the Hot Principal hitting on you at Abbott, and the MILF Teacher watching the whole exchange with murder in her eyes.

“That’s our little heartbreaker,” he said, ruffling your hair affectionately before you could swat him away.

Everyone was roaring with laughter by the end of the story, some slapping their hands on the tabletop or razzing you with wolf-whistles.

“Really?” You shook your head at Boone as he shuffled over, cheeks already rosy from his beer. “MILF?”

“What?” He shrugged. “She’s not my type but…game recognize game.”

One of the rookie EMTs (Brett? Brent?) was holding court nearby with some other meatheads. You leaned back, downing the rest of your drink with a frown on your face.

“Hey Hotshot,” he called. “Which one do you think you’ll bag first?”

“See?” You glared at Boone and yanked your jacket off, suddenly feeling a bit hot under the collar. “You’ve created a monster.”

“Personally,” Brent or Brett continued. “I’d start with the hot principal, make the MILF jealous. Jealous girls are always so wild in bed.”

“Yeah,” you said loudly. “That’s what I love about your mom.”

Everyone in earshot, even his friends, dissolved into laughter.

“Keep him away from me,” you growled to Boone, standing up and walking toward the bar. Your partner followed, hands gesticulating an apology before he even opened his mouth.

“Ok, maybe I got a little carried away earlier,” he said. “But you’re down bad for this one, and we need get your mind off her for at least one night.”

You scrubbed a hand over your face. “How?”

“Tequila!” Boone declared. He’d always been able to sell a bad idea like no one else. You flagged down a waitress and ordered another round.

Little did you know, Melissa was across town doing almost the exact same thing—albeit with a slightly different cast of characters.

“Yeah, this week was a shit show,” Ava was saying. “But at least I got to meet my sexy lil’ Florence Nightingale.”

“Who?” Melissa huffed.

“She means the EMT,” Jacob said, oblivious to Melissa’s mounting fury. “The hot one.”

“First of all, Florence Nightingale was a nurse,” Janine corrected, before arching an eyebrow at Jacob. “And second of all…the hot one?”

“What?” He shrugged. “She’s not my type, but…game recognize game.”

Melissa stalked over to the bar, ordering another drink. Barbara appeared soon after, regarding her friend with a mixture of concern and sympathy.

“I don’t wanna talk about it, Barb,” Melissa said, throwing back most of her drink in one go.

“Well that’s too bad,” Barbara said sweetly. “Because you’re not leaving here until we do.”

Melissa groaned.

“Now I admit, I don’t have every piece of this particular puzzle,” Barbara began, with all the caution of someone entering a minefield. “But it seems like your…feelings for your…neighbor are more than…platonic.”

The redhead couldn’t help but laugh. “Real diplomatic, Mrs. Howard. As always.”

“And now, Ava’s….advances seem to have agitated you,” Barbara continued, brow furrowing slightly. “Despite the fact that anyone with eyeballs can see this girl is smitten with you.”

Melissa flushed.

“It ain’t that simple, Barb. Sure, maybe she likes me and maybe I like her…” she trailed off, a pensive look on her face.

“But?” Barbara prompted.

“But she’s too good for me,” Melissa said quietly, bitterly.

Barbara Howard sat up straight on her barstool, a look of thunderous outrage clouding her features. “Of all the absurd…downright asinine…”

Melissa looked at her friend uncertainly. Barbara leaned forward, a towering figure. “You are Melissa Schemmenti,” she growled. “Fierce, loyal, brilliant, beautiful, courageous—“

“Alright, alright,” the redhead conceded with an embarrassed smile. “Sit down, Barb, ya made your point.”

Barbara scrutinized the other woman, noticing the slouchy way she held herself, the flicker of doubt behind her otherwise brave mask. She’d always known Melissa to be an unstoppable force in the world, a wrecking ball with a heart of gold, a consummate survivor. Admittedly, the last few years had been hard: first, the messy dissolution of an unhappy marriage, followed by a trail of several unworthy suitors. Melissa had gotten through it all with her usual toughness and fortitude. But now Barbara saw—really saw—that these experiences had indeed left scars.

She reached out a hand, playing with a strand of the other woman’s auburn hair. “There is no such thing as too good for you, my sweet Melissa.”

Barbara’s uncharacteristic tenderness was rewarded with a wobbly smile. Melissa opened her mouth to reply but was interrupted by the phone in her lap vibrating. Looking down, she saw your name light up the screen. Barbara gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

“Tell her how you feel,” she urged, before picking up her drink and gliding away.

Melissa swallowed thickly. “Hello?”

“Howdy, neighbor.” Melissa could just picture the lopsided smile on your face.

“Hi,” she said, a little shyly.

“I wanna see you.” By now a warm, confident feeling had settled in your chest. Your head was pleasantly foggy with desire. “Tonight.”

“Bossy,” Melissa chided, even as a coil of excitement tightened in her belly. She fiddled with a cocktail napkin. “Where are ya?”

“I just texted the address.” Your tone was smooth, commanding.

Melissa glanced over at the other teachers then back down at her phone. “I’ll be there in 15 minutes.”

When she arrived, Melissa saw that you’d invited her to a proper dive. She gave the flickering neon sign a doubtful look before stepping into the dimly lit bar. It was crowded, but she noticed you right away, easily picking you out from the crowd of EMTs gathered at a high-top. Melissa experienced a brief tremor of insecurity. Just for a second, she considered bolting.

“What are ya doing, Schemmenti?” she muttered, smoothing her shirt nervously.

Then your eyes met hers and she felt that magnetic pull again, warm and irresistible. A smug smile made its way across your face, and she couldn’t help but smile back. As Melissa approached, a few of the other paramedics looked up and whooped.

“Yeah, hotshot!” someone called.

You turned on your heel, silencing them with a glare.

“Hi,” you said, taking her hand and redirecting her away from the crowd. “Let’s go somewhere a bit more private.”

You led her through the bar and toward the mostly vacant back patio.

“I didn’t realize paramedics traveled in packs,” Melissa said dryly.

“Yeah, sorry about them,” you said. “They’re a bunch of wild animals.”

“Is that right?” Melissa smirked, tugging you suddenly by the lapels of your jacket until you were pressed flush against her. “What about you? Are you a wild animal or can ya be…domesticated?”

You bit back a moan as she slotted her leg in between yours, pressing slightly against your groin. All coherent thoughts vanished from your brain. Your whole world shrank to the feeling of Melissa in front of you, beneath you, around you. You hooked your thumbs into the belt loops of her pants, tugging her even closer.

“Domesticated?” You repeated, suddenly breathless. You walked her backwards until she was caged in by your arms against the brick wall. “I’ll be gentle as a pussycat.”

Melissa chuckled, regarding you in the low light.

You leaned down and she tipped her head to the side, giving you more access. Her breath stuttered as you ran your warm mouth over her jawline, her throat, the sensitive skin behind her ear. You could smell the faint, spicy cloud of whiskey on her. You raked your teeth over her pulse point, nipping and sucking as you gripped her hips, slipping one hand under her shirt and palming the soft flesh. She canted forward slightly, grinding against you.

“Let’s get out of here,” she suggested, voice tight, eyes dark with desire.

You sighed in agreement. “My place or yours?”

You held the door open for her, barely containing a pleasant shiver as she swayed past.

“I just gotta close my tab,” you said. “Meet me out front?”

You dashed off toward the bar and Melissa stood there for a second, dazed and smiling. The restless energy from earlier was settling, falling away.

Just as she turned to head outside, one of the other paramedics intercepted her. He had a vacant, drunken grin on his face, the kind that instantly put Melissa on guard.

“So we were wondering,” he said loudly and with no preamble. “Are you the MILF Teacher or the Hot Principal?”

“Am I what?” Melissa scoffed, affronted and confused.

“You could be either,” he said. “Which is like, totally a compliment.”

Melissa looked down and saw that he was holding a piece of paper in his hands. There were two columns, each labeled and filled with their fair share of pencil tallies.

“Most people think you’re the MILF, but I bet you’re the Hot Principal because—“ and here his eyes scanned down Melissa’s body “—well, you look like a woman who likes to take charge.”

Before she could think how to answer, you returned from the bar, instinctively putting yourself between Melissa and Brett/Brent. “Is he bothering you?”

She shook her head, zipping up her coat.

“Ya spelled principal wrong,” Melissa told him icily, before her eyes flickered to you. “Jackass.”

She stalked toward the door.

“What’s —“ you glanced down at the paper, scanning the text and then snatching it angrily away from him. “What the fuck is this?”

You gripped the front of his shirt tightly in your fist, shoving him backwards hard enough that he lost his balance and toppled to the floor. A security guard materialized almost instantly, wrapping a huge arm around your midsection and practically carrying you to the door where he dropped you on the sidewalk.

You scrambled to your feet, looking left and right.

“Melissa, wait!” you cried, taking off down the block. The older woman was trying to hail a cab.

“It’s not what it looks like, I can explain,” you panted, catching up enough to reach for her arm. She rounded on you immediately and yanked out of your grasp.

“Is this some kinda game to you?”

She noticed but chose to ignore the flicker of wounded disbelief that flashed across your face.

“Of course not.” You reached for her hand again but she stepped back. “Melissa, I swear this is just a misunderstanding.”

“Really?” she spat. “So your little friends weren’t just taking bets on who you’re gonna fuck first?”

You closed your eyes. Of course, from her perspective, you could see how bad this looked.

“I didn’t know about…whatever was going on in there, but I would never do something like that,” you explained, desperate to make her understand. “And I didn’t even text that principal.”

“You still took her number though, right, hotshot?”

You bristled at the use of the nickname, the thinly veiled implication in her words.

“What’s the supposed to mean?”

A dozen fights with Joe were rushing back to her, activating a cruel muscle memory. Over the years, she had a developed a talent for finding and exploiting weak spots.

“It means you’re a player,” Melissa hissed. “A love-‘em-and-leave-‘em fuckboy, just like your friend in there.”

“I took her number,” you said, anger lighting up your voice for the first time. “Because you had just introduced me to everyone as your neighbor, remember?”

Melissa’s cheeks went red, but she didn’t back down. If she had learned one thing from all those years of arguments, it was the power of having the last word.

“Yeah, and that’s how it should stay,” she said, turning away. “Because this was a bad idea.”

Suddenly, something inside you snapped.

“Godammit!” you exploded. “You can’t keep doing this to me! I’m not some light switch you can just keep flicking on and off!”

You took a shaky breath, trying to calm down.

“I may be young,” you said. “But I have feelings. For you. And I’ve done nothing but try and be honest about that since we kissed.”

Melissa felt a brief, familiar shadow of guilt. She knew you were right, and she couldn’t stand it.

“You’re drunk,” she said, choosing to ignore the fact that she’d also been drinking earlier.

“And you’re deflecting, again,” you accused, hackles rising. “At least I have the balls to say how I actually feel.”

“Bravo, hon,” she said, fear and pride ripping through her chest like two relentless jackhammers. “You want a gold star for spilling your guts?”

You stared at Melissa for a moment, long enough to notice the protective way she held herself, the mistrust in her bright green eyes. You knew she was scared. But there was something between you, something real and messy and magical. Didn’t she feel it?

“Can’t you just….” Your voice was suddenly rough, jagged with unshed tears. “At least admit that you—”

“Admit what?” She asked suddenly, flicking her hair out of her eyes, crossing her arms. “That I think you’d be a good fuck?”

You recoiled as if she’d slapped you, stung by the callous disregard in her voice. The sky, which had been heavy and threatening rain all night, suddenly opened up, releasing big fat drops that popped against the pavement like gunfire.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” you laughed, trying to hide your devastation.

Melissa deflated, regret and shame finally winning out over the many emotions warring within her. She opened her mouth to take it back, wishing she could unring the terrible, vicious bell of her own words. Thunder cracked overhead and you flinched, stumbling over your own feet which felt numb and heavy.

“Careful,” she said, stepping forward. But you held up your hand to forestall her approach, remaining just out of reach.

“I get it,” you said, wiping your shirtsleeve cross your face. “I wouldn’t get involved with someone like me either.”

“That’s not—” she started.

But the damage was done.

You shoved your hands deep in your pockets and walked away. When she called your name, you didn’t turn around. A few blocks over, you found another shitty dive and ducked inside to get out of the rain.

“What can I get ya?”

“Whiskey,” you croaked, parking yourself at the end of the bar. “Make it a double.”

Outwardly, you were calm, detached even. The bartender slid you a glass; you thanked him and made some small talk until he walked away. But inside, your rockstar heart was raging—breaking windows, flipping tables, lighting fires. It was time to burn it all down.

[cryptidghostgirl]

I had this though on a cute little one shot for Alastor x chubby reader in the hotel I was wondering if you would like to run with it? Where the reader gets some nail varnish that matches their lip color without thinking about it. Alastor becomes rather fond of them wearing the color and eventually it vanishes after Angel points out that it’s almost the exact same color as the reader’s lips.

The reader ends up pouting a bit over it because they can’t find it anywhere in stores anymore. They ask Angel if they borrowed it to Angel’s confusioned response to the tune of “why the fuck would I want to wear your lip color?” And it gets to the point they ask for Nifty’s help finding it while Alastor is trying to avoid the topic entirely. Eventually Nifty DOES find it in the radio tower much to Alastor’s flustered frustration.

A/N oh hell yes i can do this. 11/10. Also I am skipping the fuck around in my request order, I am so nervous about posting cover up pt 4. I promise it will come out soon.

Spicy Sienna and Berry Naughty (Alastor x Gn!Chubby!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Uhhh I got a little suggestive with this one guys. Sorry. Also,, Alastor is a little creepy and stalkery and has a thing about hands. This one just came out all around weird. Also, I named it after my favorite lip and nail polish matching combo so don't judge the fic by its name. Also Alastor sexualizes the reader a bit. Let me know if I missed anything. (guys i really have no idea what happened with this one, i am so sorry. I hope you still like it.) Also,, Alastor is for sure ooc.

Word Count: 3,675

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"Is that a new color?"

Alastor's ears perked up. He didn't turn to face the source of the sound but he listened. There was only one person in the hotel Angel would direct such a question towards after all.

"Yeah. It's essie, Berry Naughty is the name I think? Nail polish and makeup products always get called the silliest things. Do you like it?"

Y/n was the Hazbin Hotel's newest resident. They had arrived just a few weeks before, brought into the fold by Angel himself. The pair were old friends apparently, knew each other from back when they were alive.

"Yeah, it suits you. A lot more than that blue you used to wear."

There were three things the pair could be discussing in Alastor's mind. The first was Y/n's clothing. They were always dressed to the nines, decked out in some crazy ensemble or another.

At first, it had seemed foolish to Alastor. Anyone who cared that much about what they looked like had no shot at being an enjoyable person in his mind. That was before he had started to get to know the demon, seen the joy it brought them to indulge in fashion, realized the things they wore were for them and them alone. Everything had changed with that. It wasn't about persuasion, getting attention, facade. It was just who they were.

The thing about this first theory, however, was that Y/n almost never wore blue.

"Hey!" Y/n laughed, sounding a tad offended, "I liked the blue and I still might go back to it."

The second option was lipstick. Another little hobby the demon indulged in that had caused Alastor to misjudge their character upon their arrival was the makeup. Every few days, they would come down from their room in one crazy look or another. It was always something dramatic, coordinated perfectly to whatever else they had going on. If Y/n loved anything, they loved a theme.

Alastor had again made the mistake of assuming Y/n's enjoyment of such a thing was a representation of their vapidness when he had first met them. He would not be making that mistake again. The thing was, for all their wild self expression and experimental use of colors, he had never once see them sporting blue lipstick, he couldn't even picture it.

"What! I'm just sayin." Angel teased.

The third and final option, the one Alastor decided was what they must be discussing, was their nail polish. Y/n loved the act of painting nails, called it a ritual of self adoration. The way they talked about it, someone would think they were dedicating sacrifices at an alter to the gods. Every week, like clockwork, they would repaint them. Monday afternoons, four o'clock sharp. Their favorite color of late had indeed been a dark, almost black, blue. Alastor had liked it. The color had made something about their hands shine.

"Rude." Y/n scoffed in reply.

Alastor had always loved Y/n's hands. He had always had a thing about hands. In his opinion, hands were the most telling part of a person, or demon even. They showed nerves, experience, hard work -- went straight through to the core of who a person was. A carpenter's hands were rough, a cook's were scarred, an artists stained with color, a string musician's had calluses on the fingertips. Yes, a lot about a person could be learned from their hands.

Y/n's hands were soft, on the smaller side, and without the bony protrusions of their knuckles so many people seemed to admire now days. Alastor had never understood the desirability of skeletal thinness. It was impractical and uncomfortable. Y/n's hands suited them perfectly, Alastor thought. They were his favorite pair of hands to watch, the way they would flit across the keys of a piano, the way they kneaded the dough when she baked, the way they held a pen.

"I mean, it does match your lipstick now which is kinda a look."

At this, Alastor really did turn around. He couldn't help himself.

Y/n and Angel were lounging on the couches of the hotel lobby. They were dressed down, wearing a pair of jeans that hugged their legs and a crop top that accentuated their body perfectly. They looked soft, they looked comfortable, they looked delicious.

The idea of hunger was a complicated one. When Alastor thought of other demons as delicious looking, it was because he wanted to eat them, to consume their flesh that is. Y/n was certainly delicious but, he had no desire to eat them. Not like that, at any rate.

Angel had been right, Alastor could see it from across the room. The soft ruddy red of their nail varnish matched the gloss coating their lips perfectly. Alastor had always loved the color red.

"Wait, really?" Y/n asked, holding a hand up to their face, by their mouth, their nails turned out towards Angel, "Is it bad?"

"Nah, it's honestly kinda a look."

Y/n hummed, moving their hand from their face and staring intently at their nails.

"Maybe it'll be my new color then... This is the gloss I wear when I'm just doing normal makeup."

"Cohesion is key." Angel noted, "If you have a look to fall back on, people tend to like that in my experience."

Y/n stayed true to their word and Alastor relished in this revelation. Over the course of the next week, nearly every time he spotted them around the hotel, they were wearing that same combination of nail polish and lipstick. It was a secret indulgence of his, a treasure.

They nearly caught him staring one time as they were talking with him. It was nothing special, just one of their average, casual chats about the ethics of one situation or another. For someone who had ended up in Hell, Y/n had a soft spot for moral philosophy. It was clearly spill over from some preoccupation of their mortal self.

Mid conversation, he had drifted off. He hadn't meant to, it was the way they talked. Y/n was an animated conversationalist, always moving their hands to accentuate their words in one way or another. It drew his eyes to their hands and their face equally, their nails and their pretty, dark red lips.

"Hey, Alastor... Alastor!"

"Yes, my dear?" he had quickly replied, snapping out of his stupor.

"Are you alright?"

"Why on earth wouldn't I be?"

"You just kinda... trailed off there."

Alastor tried his best to push his embarrassment to the side, to shake it off his shoulders seamlessly. Miraculously, he succeeded. He wasn't quite sure how, when they were watching him with such concern filling their eyes, a slight pout to their lips.

"Just a little distracted. Lots to do today. My apologies, my dear."

"And here I thought you loved deontological thought." Y/n had teased.

Everything was fine. Alastor didn't mind Angel having noticed, it was a well known fact the spider demon saw Y/n as a sibling rather than a potential partner. The pair had grown up together and when Sir Pentious, one night, had asked whether or not they had ever messed around with each other, seeing how close they were and comfortable with physical contact, the pair had made eye contact before each putting on their own display of disgust.

Alastor was good at seeing through people, he knew it hadn't been a show. What was a problem was when Husk somehow noticed the pairing of their lip and nail color as well.

Alastor had been talking to Charlie about one thing or another as Y/n shared a drink with Sir Pentious at the bar. He was half listening to Charlie, half to their conversation. Alastor always kept an ear out for Y/n's saccharine tones.

The pair had been chatting about how their respective journeys to redemption were going when Husk had cut in.

"Did you match your nail color to your lipstick?" he asked in mild amazement.

Alastor bristled. That fact was his, was for him. No one else was allowed to see.

"Yeah!" he heard Y/n brightly reply, a tinge of pride to their voice.

Though Alastor's back was to them, he could picture the way they must be holding their delicate, gentle hands up now.

"Isn't it cute?"

Husk whistled.

"Damn, Angel is finally rubbing off on you."

"I mean, I guess." came Y/n's hesitant reply.

"You trying to catch someone's attention?"

Alastor could hear his own heartbeat in the silence that proceeded their reply.

"I mean, not on purpose. Not with this. I just like the way it looks... I don't know, it makes me feel... pretty."

Y/n was right. Alastor knew for a fact, had seen it with his own eyes, how irresistible the combination made them look. Now others were starting to notice it as well and, well, Alastor couldn't have that, now could he.

The next morning, when Alastor came down for breakfast, he noticed Y/n sitting at the table, looking uncharacteristically despondent. His back to them as he began to prepare his morning cup of coffee, he smiled.

"What's got you down, my dear?" he asked and Y/n sighed.

"My nail polish disappeared."

So, they had already noticed. Alastor picked the carton of milk up off the counter.

"Don't you have others? You're always a veritable rainbow of color!"

Alastor kept his voice light and cheery. His coffee made, he took a seat at the table across from them.

"Yeah, I guess. I just liked that one. It matched my favorite lipstick."

"Couldn't you try another color? That midnight blue last week was rather nice."

"Yeah, I guess." suddenly, their eyes shot up to his, a smile breaking out across their face, "Wait, Al! You're a genius! I'll just go buy another bottle!"

When Y/n returned from the store a few hours later, their gray cloud had returned.

"Are you alright?" Vaggie asked as they slumped onto the couch beside her.

Alastor couldn't help but note, from his hiding place, the way the act of sitting changed their body. They were beautiful standing, stunning even, but something about the way their thighs spread out over the surface of the couch...

"Yeah." Y/n grumbled, "Just... bummed."

"Oh no!" Charlie exclaimed, walking away from the bulletin board she was planning their next lesson on and joining the pair, "What happened?"

"It's stupid." Y/n groaned, throwing their head back.

"Wrong guy hit on you?" Angel teased and they immediately righted themselves, shooting him a glare.

"No." they pointedly replied, "Just... that nail polish? Berry Naughty or whatever its called? The one that matched my Spicy Sienna gloss?"

"Damn, you're pulling out the color names." Angel laughed, "Yeah, I know. What about it?"

"I can't find my bottle anywhere and I went to like seven different stores today and none of them had it! Not one! You didn't borrow it, did'ya Ant?"

Angel put a hand to his chest dramatically.

"Who, me?"

Y/n rolled their eyes.

"Nah." he waved them off, "You know I always ask before I borrow. I learned that lesson about you the hard way."

Y/n sighed despondently again.

"I'm sorry." Charlie hummed, patting Y/n's knee comfortingly, "I know it was making you really happy."

"It's silly." they shook their head, "It's just nail polish."

"Yeah but, it clearly brought you a lot of joy." Charlie insisted, "What if I ask Nifty to keep an eye out for it around the hotel?"

Alastor almost let the shadows hiding him from the group in the corner of the room dissolve in shock. He hadn't expected that. He had really thought everyone would just let it go. Yes, he knew Y/n would probably be upset about it for a few days but, that just gave him all the more of an excuse to be near them, to comfort them.

"Really Charlie?" Y/n brightened immediately, "You'd do that for me?"

"Of course! I mean, I'm not making any promises but, you know."

Y/n pulled themselves from the couch, throwing their arms around Charlie's neck.

"Oh, thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"It's just a nail polish." Vaggie chuckled, watching the interaction warmly.

Y/n let go of Charlie, who shrugged back at her girlfriend.

"It makes them happy."

Two weeks had gone by with no sign of the bottle of nail polish. Y/n still went to the stores every few days, checking for the color, but had yet to have any luck. Nifty too had come up empty handed.

Alastor was very pleased with himself. The trick of using his shadows to empty every store in the surrounding area of the color before Y/n went shopping was something he was particularly proud of.

Of course, all along, he knew where the missing item was. It was in the top drawer of his night table on the right hand side of his bed. Nifty only went in to clean his room maybe once a month or so and she knew better than to snoop. It was all going off without a hitch, even the comforting aspect. Alastor had had the absolute pleasure and honor of showing up at just the right place, at just the right time (imagine that), so as to be included with Angel when Y/n had the bright idea to see if she could find any other matching colors between her vast collection of lipsticks and lipglosses and even larger collection of nail polish. He wasn't sure how their hands could sustain that much acetone, or their skin that much makeup remover, but he was grateful for it nonetheless.

Alastor was in his studio, fixing one of the control panels, his mind filled with spinning memories of the past couple days (Y/n had even hugged him! The feeling of the cushion of their waist against his arms, their stomach, was not one he would soon forget), when he heard a knock at the door. He straightened up, eyeing it suspiciously.

The guests of the Hazbin Hotel, as well as its staff, knew better than to disturb him while he was at work. It's owners, on the other hand, were much more foolhardy. He ran a hand over his hair, straightening it a bit so as to make himself presentable, and called for the knocker to enter.

The door creaked as it swung open, just like Alastor wanted it to. A creaky door was a good thing, it made sure most people couldn't sneak up on him when he was at his most vulnerable, most distracted.

"You'll want to grease that." Y/n hummed as they stepped into the dingy space, "I think we have some WD40 in the basement, if you want me to bring it up for you."

They had never come to visit him up here before, never dared even come near the rotting wooden door. Alastor walked forward, shutting the door behind Y/n now that they were fully in the room. He was close enough to feel their breath on his skin as he smiled down at them.

"No need, my dear, although, I do appreciate the offer."

A silence fell between the pair as Y/n took a few steps further into the room, their eyes running across every surface available before them. Alastor noticed their hands were clasped behind their back. It wasn't an unusual position for them but, something seemed different about it this time.

"What can I help you with?" he cordially asked and Y/n turned to face him.

"Well... I... um..." they locked eyes with Alastor, finding their words at last, "Nifty found something today. While she was cleaning."

Alastor was glad Y/n's demon form was not all that powerful in this moment. If it was, they would have heard his heartbeat spike. His voice, his demeanor, even his expression were easy to control but his heart? Not so much.

"Oh?"

"Yeah... I..." Y/n trailed off.

With a sigh, they brought their hands forward, opening them to reveal the source of Alastor's anxiety. Nestled there, in the softness of their palm, was the nail polish.

"She found it! Congratulations, my dear. You must be thrilled."

"Yeah." Y/n replied uncertainly, looking away.

Alastor knew why they were so uncomfortable, but his hope was stronger. There was an uncanny sense of optimism in him, one that was unfounded and unfamiliar. It drove him to pry, to see how much they really knew. For all Alastor knew, there could be something else entirely going on.

"Where was it?"

"I..." Y/n looked back at him once again, "That's the problem, Alastor. Nifty said... well, she said she found it in your room."

"In my room?" Alastor repeated, feigning confusion, a hand to his chest in mock surprise.

Y/n nodded.

"In your night table drawer."

They must have known him better than he thought, have seen the flash of sudden anger in his eyes or something like that, maybe he had tense his body. Whatever had ticked them off, they continued.

"She didn't open it. Nift said it was open and went to close it and just... spotted it in there so don't get mad at her, she didn't do anything wrong."

Alastor stood in silence, watching Y/n carefully.

"I just... Look, I'm not mad, I am just confused. Why was it in your room, did you take it from me?"

A shock of nerves fluttered in Alastor's stomach. The heat rushed to his cheeks and he looked away, a hand flying instinctually to his collar and tugging at it just the slightest bit, as if the room was too hot. It was all the answer Y/n needed.

"Why?"

Alastor turned back to Y/n and nearly stumbled back a few steps when he realized how much closer they had brought themselves to him. Nearly every other time, he was the one to bridge the distance, to step into their personal space. His breath caught in his throat, a sort of thrill flooding his mind.

"I... I..."

He had stuttered. Alastor didn't stutter. He had never stuttered, not even when he was alive.

"You..?" Y/n prompted, leaning forward slightly.

His mind was reeling. He couldn't tell if that was their goal, secretly, if they had finally realized the effect they had on him and begun to use it to their advantage. Alastor looked away again.

"It was..."

"You knew it was my favorite. Why did you take it?"

Fuck.

They were upset, maybe even angry. Alastor had seen them mad before but it had never been directed towards him. Normally, he would relish in the wrath of another but Y/n's wrath? Fuck. He realized right then and there, he would rather die.

"Husk." he admitted at last, his hands now fiddling with the cuffs of his jacket, his face flushed.

Alastor dared a glance at Y/n. Their brow was furrowed.

"Husk?"

"Yeah. Husk."

"I... why Husk? Did he dare you? Did he... I... what?"

Whatever feelings they had previously held had been replaced by pure confusion. Alastor could handle confusion. The situation at large was still unwelcome and rather untenable but, at least there was the confusion.

"He..." Alastor cleared his throat, brave enough to meet their eyes again at last, "He noticed."

"Noticed.... oh."

"Yeah."

They fell silent. This wasn't a thing Alastor had felt since he was very young. There was a wild animal in his chest. In this moment, he didn't just look like a deer, he was one and Y/n was the hunter with their gun trained on the spot between his eyes.

"It wa-"

"Did you also take it off the shelves all over the neighborhood?"

They had always been smart, smarter than he gave them credit for. Alastor grimaced, nodding slowly.

"Alastor, why did it bother you so much? Is it illegal to match my nails to my lips? Does it go against your... your weird ass deontological code?"

"No, it's just... it was... fuck!"

Y/n had never heard him curse before. A hand flew to Alastor's head, he took a deep breath.

"Alastor, I-"

"It was for me, okay? I... I didn't want anyone else noticing. It was just for me."

Y/n looked somehow even more confused as he lowered his hand once again. The releif that had accompanied the admission was greatly outweighed by his anxiety as he waited for their response.

"But Angel noticed too? Before Husk?"

"That's different." Alastor sighed, "He... You... I..."

"Alastor, what's going on?"

There was concern now, lacing their voice in its gentle vines. It almost made everything worse.

"I like you, okay!? There. Are you happy now!?"

He didn't know why he was yelling. Y/n's eyes went wide.

"You... like me? Like, like like me?"

He glared at them and they put their hands up in surrender.

"Just trying to clarify the situation!"

Alastor rolled his eyes, crossing his arms protectively over his chest.

"Yes. I... like like you or... whatever nonsense you just said. Are you happy now?"

It was a stand off, each training a metaphorical pistol at the other. Y/n was the one to finally break.

"Yes." they curtly replied, crossing their arms to mirror his position, "I'll... I'll let you get back to work now."

Someone had driven a nail right through Alastor's chest and into his heart. He watched their retreating form as they opened the door and slipped out into the hallway. Just as it was about to fall shut, they miraculously stuck a foot between the closing door and its frame, peeking their head back into the room.

"Just so you know: if you asked me out on a date," they began, their eyes flicking up to his from where they had previously been fixed on the floor, "I'd say yes."

-----

A/N Ant is a pretty common nickname for Anthony in NYC (where I am from and where I'm pretty sure Angel is supposed to be from). Yes, I will be using it in another fic I am working on too (its part two of Unexpected (Vox x Reader). Also,, deontology is when you have a strict set of ethical rules/maxims you stick by no matter what (Kant is a deontologist).

TAGS:

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0 @kahlan170 @wendyphan01203-blog @fairyv-ice @clarakainda @lunaramune @mcueveryday @luxky-aish @peterpankat @corvid007 @juskonutoh @simpingsohard @sethianaa @gabile18 @slytherin4ever @skyeliteratures @zombiesnips-blog

[darkfictionjude]

Okay so I know this is a touchy subject already especially since certain people have already been bitchy about it before, but sometimes Crowny is genuinely difficult to play as. I feel super conflicted about them since they're the literal personification of "damn bitch you live like this?"

Realistically, progress isn't linear and different people get different results even if they do the exact same thing, but as of now it feels like they aren't really allowed to improve at all. If you study you're still mediocre leaning towards bad in terms of understanding. You try to workout you see absolutely no results, not even the tiniest bit. When it comes to the other characters, it's always one step forward and two steps back. When you give them a hobby or try to get them to pick up a skill they find little enjoyment. When people bother them they barely fight back or even argue, and when they do it's like a sarcastic quip or a grumble at most. By the end, they haven't even made a dent. These don't make them less of a person and it doesn't make them a failure since the world is quite literally out to get them, but it's like they aren't allowed any satisfaction in their life. (Yeah it's been like a month, maybe barely scratching two in the current timeline so maybe this contradicts what I first said about progress but I'm dumb as hell)

It's wild to go from the side quests, backstory segments, interactions with the ROs and then Crown family just for all the hype to fade when there's a segment with just Crowny all alone. I know that there's a reason for why they are the way they are, but I literally have to take breaks from reading their solitary moments sometimes because it seems to drag on. I know things aren't easy in this universe, I know the world is supposed to be cruel and unfair, but like can they at least get a cake for their efforts? Or a hug? Or be able to sleep through one night and wake up well rested?

I hope I'm not sounding like an asshole or a insane here. Personally, they're relatable in a lot of aspects. I may not have had supernatural shit going after me, but I had a lot of issues that many of their experiences brush way too close to. It's just the way it's presented that makes them feel like they're like the random piece of chewy cartilage in an otherwise perfectly cooked steak, unpleasant but I'm gonna eat it anyway.

I literally just wrote a whole ass book complaining, but I at least wanna say I do love your work, Crowny included even if my words seem to say otherwise, and I'm super excited to see what happens in the timeskip since i know this is like JUST the beginning. I'm like seriously praying my tone is coming off the right way if that's even possible. If you read through all this thanks. I'm not gonna hide behind anon because I at least wanna be able to explain myself if this comes across wrong.

but like can they at least get a cake for their efforts? Or a hug? Or be able to sleep through one night and wake up well rested?

Well no 😭😭

And that comes from the fact that they are self loathing, depressed as hell and have virtually no support system while dealing with things that they aren’t mature enough to handle, actually their mental health is getting far worse which is by design

I feel like perhaps some readers have not realized just how depressed crowny is. All the things you described about them finding little enjoyment, etc., are key markers of major clinical depression

I feel also people did miss the fact that crowny kind of exploded in the library they didn’t shut up, they didn’t let it go which I think is a positive because this is the first time they’ve have enough to say “enough”

Sorry but I like my things slow burn 💀 that Halloween party is meant to be a breakthrough for them and I think perhaps it’s been glossed over by some because what happened to James has gotten the most attention and the final moment in the woods. Crowny outed their “friends” for the first ever and fought back against their tormentor in only one single night. James for all his issues did the one thing that broke the camel’s back and pushed Crowny over the edge, all 7 episodes have led to this

Crowny is meant to fall before they come up that’s how I wanted it because realistically someone could not handle all of this without losing their mind. It has barely been two months, Crowny has only seriously hit the main plot in episode 4 which in the current timeline was about 3 weeks ago (from episode 7)

Truly the progress that crowny did make in episode 7 should have taken longer, people with crowny’s issues spend years in therapy before they feel they have the right to fight back.

There’s a reason episode 7 is the midseason finale. It’s not only about the plot but about crowny themself….

Dw you’re tune is fine I can usually tell when someone doesn’t think before they write 😭

[slitheringghost]

I do agree that people sometimes tend to minimize the Blacks abuse (I don't believe Sirius was crucio'd like so many fics seem to focus on, but I do believe strongly in psychological abuse that might’ve escalated to physical - this being what forced him to run away), but Snape being abused by his father is just... a logical conclusion of the narrative based on popular tropes and the things we're shown. First because of his father's background (poor muggle who hates magic and lives in the slums) and from everything we're told about Snape as a child - his severe social awkwardness, him being described as looking unloved, the brief glimpse we see of his father being Eileen and Severus cowering from him - I think it's pretty clear what we're meant to infer about his family life

No I mostly agree with you! Sorry I think my post was confusing. I don’t actually interpret the text that way, I think Snape is implied to be abused and it’s somewhat of a bad faith reading to claim he wasn’t. Like you CAN make that argument but it’s a reach, and that post was meant to be me doing weird mental gymnastics lol as a demonstration of how fans do that with Sirius. (I also forgot the description of Snape as unloved, thanks for pointing that out. That fits with how Kreacher says Walburga hated Sirius too).

That said, I have a major gripe with “Tobias was a poor muggle who lived in the slums” as evidence for Snape being abused.

This fandom constantly frames wealth and privilege as mutually exclusive with abuse and I’m so tired of it - i.e. I see takes framing the Black sisters being wealthy, privileged, spoilt, arrogant, raised as royalty, etc. as reasons why they couldn’t have been abused or have a tragic backstory. Same that Sirius was the brilliant eldest son and heir and therefore either wasn’t abused at all or only started being abused once he disagreed with his family’s politics, because Why Would His Parents Abuse Their Super Talented Beloved Heir otherwise? Or how “Sirius doesn’t act like an abuse victim, he acts like an heir who was raised to run an estate” as if those are, again, mutually exclusive. With the Blacks framed as being too much of “refined aristocrats” to resort to beating their children and seeing that as “beneath them” (also shown in the bizarre takes that the Blacks would think it’s “Muggle” to hit their kids. Like, WHAT? It’s magical society that is centuries behind the Muggle world in terms of social progress and therefore ideas of abuse… if anything what they’d view as “too Muggle” is the idea that torturing your children is abuse). ETA: I've also seen fandom compare the Blacks to the Roys from Succession, the Targaryens from ASOIAF, characters from the Crown, etc as part of evidence that they're not (severely or at all) abusive... AGAIN plainly linking abuse to wealth.

Rich privileged people do, in fact, experience (and commit!) domestic violence! Just as poor people do! Rich kids experience sexual abuse. Rich wives are murdered by their rich husbands. And so on. Denying this is absolutely fucking wild. And this is a dangerous mindset for several reasons, but particularly given that sometimes victims’ wealth is used as reasons to dismiss abuse in real life too - i.e. the Menendez brothers.

Yes, poverty certainly influences domestic violence in many ways - as @ashesandhackles says in this post, “Statistically, this is also seen more in low income households where economic instability and resulting domestic instability creates an unsafe environment for the kids to safely form ideas of their identity, or express emotions in healthy ways, modelling instead out of behaviour seen at home.” (I’m not sure of the exact statistics of how socioeconomic status affects rates of abuse, but even if it’s significantly higher in lower income families, it still wouldn’t make these takes less dismissive of privileged victims). We see this with the Gaunts too. This is an interesting post on Snape’s abuse and poverty (and, notice how literally no one denies that Snape was abused to the point of having bruises and scars and broken bones…).

But wealth does too - people who hold and abuse their power over their “inferiors” often bring that violence and abuse of power home. That’s not always true i.e. Lucius abuses Dobby and that doesn’t extend to his family. But on the other hand, Crouch Sr’s treatment of Winky directly parallels his treatment of his son, and his abuse of power in the MLE throwing others into prison without a trial also led to him not giving his son a proper trial before throwing him to the dementors. And certainly the Blacks’ murdering Muggles and house-elves relates to them disowning - and potentially honor killing- children for marrying Muggles/Muggleborns.

(There are spoilt wealthy characters for whom it makes no sense to give an abuse backstory, like Draco, but his privilege doesn’t have much to do with it - his portrayal as deeply loved by their parents does.)

This is a tangent, but re: Bellatrix’s behavior in particular, it’s canon that Bellatrix acts arrogant, calm, like a leader, like royalty (“sitting on her chair as if it was a throne”) in the middle of literal dementors during her trial, which means that, as this essay points out, putting on a front of arrogance is how Bellatrix copes with despair. This fits with how when she’s terrified Voldemort will kill her and her family in DH, she takes charge of the household. I think she’s also truly haughty, but it’s not always about her privileged upbringing, it’s also oftentimes a mask to hide her real terror and misery. Potentially this applies to Sirius’s arrogance too.

And like… it’s better than the people who completely deny Sirius was abused, but I also have a gripe with the emphasis on it being largely psychological and very occasionally physical (it’s not just you, it’s very standard nowadays to emphasize that Sirius’s abuse was only emotional).

I often see fandom cite fics portraying the Blacks’ Crucio-ing their children as a reason to go “well it was obviously not that extreme and actually only emotional abuse”, when… there’s a very wide spectrum of possibilities in between solely emotional abuse and “Crucio’s their children”. Not using the literal Cruciatus doesn’t mean they couldn’t still have been severely physically abusive in other ways. Or, if not physical abuse (though I think that’s clearly implied), then other forms of extreme trauma in addition to the verbal abuse - sexual abuse, long periods of imprisonment and starvation, continuous drugging, and idk you could probably come up with more creative/less standard spells and methods of magical abuse i.e. Crouch Sr. using the Imperius curse on his son for 13 years, which doesn’t really have a real life equivalent.

(And I’m not saying emotional/verbal abuse isn’t traumatizing! I’ve been traumatized by it myself. But degrees of abuse are a spectrum and vary greatly, and if the level of abuse Sirius experienced consisted only of Walburga cruelly screaming at him and very occasional physical abuse, mixed with love and affection as people say, then, well, all of Molly Weasley’s children would’ve been traumatized the way Sirius was. But they’re obviously not. More on this in another post).

Re: Sirius vs. Snape and how their abuse is interpreted - it’s nearly always taken as a given that Snape was (often severely) physically abused, fandom even citing the Pottermore article about him being whipped despite that being extracanon and not written by JKR, and there aren’t constant debates and disclaimers about how it was only emotional/psychological abuse and not physical, like there are for the Blacks, and I often even see explicit statements that Snape’s abuse was worse than Sirius’s. People also generally accept that Tobias just didn’t love Snape at all vs. takes about how Walburga and Orion actually deeply loved Sirius. I’ve even seen the headcanon multiple times that Tobias murdered Eileen in a rage! When you have the same fandom saying the Blacks coming close to killing their children is “exaggerated, cartoonishly evil” abuse. It again plays into the idea that only poor people do something as crass as commit physical violence on their family - the Blacks are simply above that kind of violence.

(I think there’s some amount of gender essentialism and messed up ideas about motherhood going on too, regarding Walburga vs. Tobias. And fandom not being able to comprehend the idea of even one single mother being portrayed as violently abusive and hating her children - the only mother in the series described as such. The fact that I’ve seen the headcanon several times over about how Orion is the more violent one and Walburga was trying to protect Sirius and Regulus from his abuse… makes me even more sure of this).