#the obsession the hatred the resentment it’s all so good

[gothicwill]

Nothing better than a “I wanted him dead. I wanted him all to myself.” Type ship. Truly unmatched.

[husbandjoel]

only exes in the building | joaquin torres

summary: you only had two months left on your lease with your ex

pairing: joaquin torres x fem!reader

word count: 3.7k

content: mutual pining after ending it on good terms, swearing, sexual references, joaquin is cocky and a little bit of an indecisive asshole but in a hot way. reader has lost their mother (not relevant to the plot), idiots who have been in love and still are

a/n: not proofread! i’m a dog for joaquin and the roommate trope is my bone. new girl reference at the end! iykyk

gif credit: @sammywilson

Two months.

That’s all it was. Two months. A nicely rounded sixty days and counting, until your lease to your shared apartment in Downtown NYC, with your ex-boyfriend — Joaquin Torres — was over. Done and dusted. Boxes packed and labelled, ready to move onto bigger and better things.

That’s what you had kept muttering to yourself under the weighted blanket, Joaquin had bought for you on your first anniversary as a couple. The cardboard boxes meant for your belongings were still flat and encased in a plastic film to further prove your procrastination. Laptop balanced upon your knees, you picked at your bedside snack and scanned the dimmed screen of your laptop for a suitable apartment for your new beginnings.

These mundane tasks would have been suitably easier to complete, if your breakup with Joaquin was loaded with a heartbreak filled with anguish and hatred. In fact, it had been the complete opposite and often led both of you reminding each other that your three year long partnership was well and truly over. Joaquin had been the one to call it quits on a random Tuesday night over your Thai Tuesday Takeaway.

“I—I just, I’m not ready to take this further.” Joaquin had explained when feeding you Khao Pad. Hamster-like with your cheeks full, you stared at him utterly confused and he was quick to implement his decision, “I love you. I just keep thinking back to your life plan, and—and with how busy I am with Sam. . . I am hindering that. I want, no, I need you to be happy and fulfilled.”

What the fuck. Over Khao Pad?

Joaquin had referenced to your life plan that you had showed him on your second date. It was a little premature and ambitious, but Joaquin fed into the idea positively and in turn, found out about your four year rule on being proposed to. You had established in this said list that you wouldn’t abide to a relationship that extended past the four year mark without a ring on your finger.

With smugness tugged upon his lips, Joaquin swelled his chest with confidence that it wouldn’t take him four years to bend his knee for you.

He was wrong. So, incredibly wrong.

Which led him to initiating a gentle breakup at the three and a half year mark. The plan, as any plan was curated, was purely a guideline for your life and not set in stone as curveballs could be thrown from any direction — and they had — so, you hadn’t been too obsessed with Joaquin proposing, although, it seemed as if it bothered him more than it bothered you. Regardless, it was over between you two, and you cemented that end of an era with some mind-blowing breakup sex.

The morning after Joaquin moved to the couch in the living room and you had called the landlord to enforce that the lease would not be continued once the renewal of your contract was offered.

That had been two months ago.

An addition of two extra months did have its flaws even if the breakup was a little blurred in the lines. Eventually, you did begin to harbour some resentment toward Joaquin, because nothing was wrong in your relationship and if he was truly insecure about a life plan you had scribbled up when you reached twenty-one, why didn’t he just go purchase a stupid ring and call it even?

Anyway, you never delved into opening that can of worms with a further two months to go.

Additionally to that, neither of you discussed your success in finding a new home that, even if it was a studio apartment, would look a little emptier without each other’s belongings in it. You weren’t even sure Joaquin had the time to scroll endlessly through rental sites. Most of the time he was gone early and back late or the next day and that began to grate on you too. He broke up with you — he should be jumping at the chance to escape.

You’d have to brave the talk with him.

One rare morning that he was home, you had caught him grunting as he cautiously lifted himself off of the couch, his hand to his back and a face screwed up in pain.

“Are you OK? You asked with alarm. It was no secret that Joaquin was dabbling in some perilous missions with Sam Wilson who had been knighted from The Falcon to — and rightfully so — the shiny new Captain America.

Joaquin often needed wounds tended to, and you were there to wrongfully kiss his patched up wounds better.

His nodded his head without looking at you, “My back just hurts. This couch sucks, why did we get this one again?”

“It was my mother’s.” You stated and Joaquin cringed, “The one that died. Remember?”

How could he forget.

Brown eyes met yours to form an apology, and instead he was distracted by the item of clothing you had branded yourself in.

“Baby—” He corrected himself with your name, “That is my t-shirt.”

You looked down at the basic grey tee and back up, “You gave it to me.”

Was he starting the divorce settlement? You had seen two divorcees split their Beanie Baby collection online. This was starting to render the same energy.

“When we were together. Don’t exes give a boxful of stuff back to the rightful owner? I think that includes t-shirts.” He smirked and you fiddled with the hem of it. Oh god, this was the Beanie Baby divorce.

“I guess you’re right. It’s a little weird that I’m wearing it—Here.” Without a thought you pulled the t-shirt from the bottom hem and straight over your head, leaving you stark naked as you chucked the item of clothing at Joaquin before retreating back into your bedroom.

Joaquin stood with his jaw slack and blinking in disbelief, “That also includes getting naked in front of me!”

“Sorry!” You called out genuinely.

“It’s OK!” Joaquin let his voice drop lower by octaves, so you were unable to hear, “It was great actually. . . Fuck.” His head rolled back as he chucked the t-shirt over his face to attempt to smother his groan.

After that incident, you were more than cautious about indecent exposure around Joaquin. Although, it did cross your mind that it would get him out of the apartment quicker. Joaquin, too, had to be reminded that the double standards were not tolerated under your unorthodox living space. Often caught in the kitchen, living off of high protein food in nothing but gym shorts, his torso exposed to show off his carved physique.

You would sit, food missing your mouth across the island in the kitchen whilst you watched him, shirtless, tenderising some meat for his meal prep. The shirtless fiasco had to end. Joaquin happily obliged with a smug grin on his face whilst he pulled a t-shirt over his head that didn’t do any favours in hiding his toned muscles.

“I’m going out tonight.” You shook your wandering mind from the muscle tank and eventually mouthed some cereal.

Joaquin paused his tenderising, “Oh yeah? Like, out—out?” He pulled at his earlobe, “With friends?”

You hummed. He didn’t like that.

“You could say that.” Oh. He really didn’t like that. He spared you a weak smile as you continued to explain, “With the potential of going further, if it works out.”

Joaquin prayed it didn’t.

Immediate in sensing his shift in energy, you stared him down as if he were bacteria under a microscope. Three and a half years, and you could smell the disconcert off of Joaquin Torres like it was a spritz of his aftershave. Fingers fidgeting, brow pinched and his jaw tightening, the news of your date that you had casually sprung upon him was setting up inner turmoil.

Not wanting to draw too much attention to it, you slipped off of the stool and padded around the island to place your bowl in the sink. The drop in your gut not going amiss.

“So, do I know them?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, “Yes.”

“It’s not that person from your work. Is it?” Joaquin had fully forgone his meal prep, “Not the one that tried to kiss you whilst we were still together."

“Joaquin. Does it matter?” You whined and he was aghast. Hands held up in surrender to take the argument on the precipice down a notch, “We aren’t together anymore. Who I date doesn’t concern you, really.”

“Yeah, it kinda does when you still live with me.” Joaquin seethed, his hands coming out in gesture to emphasise his vexation.

This had you recoil. Your mouth pulled downward in frustration. Suddenly, you felt a wedge cram between Joaquin and you, the looming thought that exes couldn’t healthily live together and move on in unison began to barge to the forefront of your mind. Your friends — as much as you disagreed — may have been correct when they ogled your explanation of the Joaquin Torres situation. Personal torture, they had called it. Now you happened to agree.

He ended it with you. There was no part of that conversation where you thought Joaquin was correct in his astonishment about your date.

You took a step forward and prodded his toned chest.

“Then find somewhere else to live, Joaquin.” The words came out more sour than intended but your point still stood. You added, “This is over. We are over.”

Joaquin nodded, “I will.”

“Fine.” You exchanged and he responded with ‘Brilliant.’ Before you stormed off into your bedroom to cool off and further, get ready for your date that had already been soiled by the negativity from your ex.

That night, Joaquin stayed up past his usual bedtime schedule to ensure maximum rest for his duties as the Falcon. To keep himself entertained, he had dragged out his Falcon suit, acting out certain high-risk scenarios in the living room with the furniture — your furniture — pushed back. You had left hours prior, he hadn’t seen you but had heard the click of the door to signal your departure and Joaquin tried, he really tried to close his eyes and drift off into a peaceful sleep.

The insides of his eyelids were painted of images of you kissing the person from your work. A smile reserved for when you were in love on your features as they caressed your face, your eyes shone with adoration. He fidgeted, tossed from one side to the other to try shake the feeling off, heels of his palms dug into his eye sockets to blacken the scenes of you with another person intimately.

Joaquin was having a hard time fighting his demons for the decision about breaking up with you. He was still, entirely devoted, to loving you with the regret that hung above him like a neon sign in a dark tunnel. Everyday he had to wake up on the sofa that was like concrete against his back, and have to continue the suffering by not being able to hold you in the mornings before he had to spring out of bed and meet Sam Wilson. Or, a chaste kiss to your pretty lips and a promise that he’d keep safe just so he could see your face another day.

It was plain sadistic torment.

Sam had even offered up a place in Washington D.C. for Joaquin and he declined it with a blatant knowing look from his superior.

The situation was messy. But it was Joaquin’s mess. And he wanted to soak up whatever time he had left before you moved out and away from him.

“Man. It’s almost midnight.” He mumbled to himself whilst he dodged an invisible swing of a fist, “Maybe I should call her.”

As if you were connected by red thread, the front door opened and you peered in to see Joaquin clad in his metal gear, his helmet off so his wet hair could air dry into ringlets. He halted his actions to face you, his wings shooting open when he saw your outfit.

Scrambling to power them down and tuck them back into his suit, Joaquin muttered profanities under his breath from embarrassment. You hadn’t spoken to him since your small disagreement in the kitchen, but you weren’t one to hold grudges for long; a smile breaking out onto your face at him floundering.

“Was that some type of physical double entendre?” You shouldn’t have joked about it but you did. Purse placed on the counter next to the door, you tilted your head at Joaquin, “I like your suit.”

An olive branch. You had given him an olive branch.

Joaquin huffed a laugh, “Give me a sec,” Finally, the wings shut off, his face warm, “I’ll have Sam look into why that happened—You, uh, you like my suit?”

You nodded, “Yeah. You look cool.”

“Yeah?” Joaquin felt his shoulders broaden, quick to clear his throat, he asked, “How, um, how did the date go?”

Terribly. As a matter of fact.

“Oh, it was OK. Nothing to write home about.” You sat down on the couch and fingered at the strap of your heel with a wince from the chafing, “Somewhere between the breadsticks and the mushroom tagliatelle, I figured it was a bad idea on my behalf.”

“Mushroom tagliatelle? You hate mushroom tagliatelle. Do they even know you?” He vocalised disdain.

“Turns out not so much. But—It’s OK, it wouldn’t have worked out anyway.” You side-eyed Joaquin still stood in his Falcon uniform, listening so intently to every word that left your mouth. Your heart thrummed and you deeply exhaled, “It wouldn’t have worked out because I think—I know I am still caught up on my plague of a roommate.”

Joaquin Torres felt his mind go blank. Stupidly stood in the middle of the living room, with his ex-girlfriend professing the love that was hindering her, he gulped at the dryness that seized his throat and said. . .nothing. His nerves shot, he felt the beads of sweat coat his brow whilst his brain malfunctioned.

He should’ve told you he loved you tremendously. He couldn’t dream of a life where he didn’t wake up with you. The breakup he initiated was out of fear, and selfishly, he wanted to beat you to the heartbreak before the four year countdown on your ticking time bomb was up. Joaquin never stopped being in love with you. But as he stared down at you, face filled with plead, he chickened out.

Joaquin sniffed, “Yeah, well, we’ll be out of each other’s hair soon.” He didn’t deserve you, this was what it was all about. Quick to break the eye contact to forgo seeing your face drop, Joaquin turned his back to beeline for the bathroom, his feet stopped at the door, “You—You look beautiful by the way.”

Your wedge widened the gap that night. Brief good mornings and good nights were spoken with only one month to go. Your heart threaded and pulled back together after your ex-boyfriend rejected your affirmation that love was still on the cards — ring or not. Joaquin became a pure figment of your imagination with being sent on missions that you had no privy to, sometimes you would hear the clatter of his arrival through the night, your shoulders tense when you saw his feet hesitate at your bedroom door, illuminated by his phone torch.

You were relieved that he was giving you the space you needed. Your boxes had been packed and a friend was renting a spare room out for your dire situation once they had heard the sniffles at the other end of the phone. A spare box tossed to the side, labelled in red marker: J’s belongings, taunted you at the end of your bed; unable to pluck the courage up to hand it over to him.

Because that meant looking him in the eye and carelessly falling all over again.

Your progress wouldn’t be defeated by his charm. How you missed someone so sorely that lived in the same space as you, was a topic you thought someone should write a thesis on. You’d bring it to the board one day. Regardless, you were headstrong in protecting your peace.

Box in hands, you stretched for the bedroom door that was always kept shut, grunting as it swung open and you waltzed out; presuming Joaquin had left early that morning as you hadn’t heard a peep out of him.

“Shit—” Joaquin spoke out, “I’m sorry. You need help?”

Oh no. Not now.

“I think I got it. Thanks.”

“What is this?” Joaquin acted naive to the situation. It was a cardboard box, duct tape haphazardly stuck to the bottom so it wouldn’t give out from the sheer weight.

You huffed, “Your stuff. I’m literally just putting it in the living room.” You wanted him to leave you alone.

“Oh!” He reached for the box, “Then, let me—” You protested by clutching the box and Joaquin insisted, “Come on, let me help you, I’ve been training real hard with Sam—”

His fingers caught the only flaw in your taping and the two flaps on the bottom gave way, a large clutter hit the floor and the pair of you stared at it with mouths open. You were the first to look up at him with fury behind your eyes, your lips pulled into a thin line to contain your anger for a moment more.

Joaquin swallowed.

“I am so sorry.” He meant that. For everything.

“I said I had it, Joaquin.” Fingers pinched the bridge of your nose, “Can you just let me do this? Please. I don’t need your help carrying a fucking cardboard box from one room to another.”

His hands went up, “OK. OK. I was just coming to tell you I would be leaving tomorrow. Top secret mission.” He tapped his nose and tried to ease the palpable tension. “I spoke to the landlord, he’s fine with my premature departure. I think being the Falcon has its perks, you know?”

You looked him up and down, “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah. Is—Is that OK?”

Why wouldn’t it be? So were you.

You nodded hesitantly and Joaquin rubbed his jawline, “Wanna watch a movie? Call it a Farewell Friday, you can pick it. As long as it’s not Dirty Dancing. I don’t want to see you cry over Patrick Swayze before I leave.”

You fucking hated Joaquin Torres.

Everything about him. Down to the kindness of his soul. Because, he made it so easy to fall back into your — now — four year long attachment to him.

Still. A movie on the sofa wouldn’t hurt. If you stayed five feet apart at either end of the furniture and didn’t share popcorn.

“Sure, let me just brush my teeth.” You said quietly without confidence as Joaquin handed a Polaroid that fell from the box back to you. He had looked at it and let out a soft chuckle before placing it in your hand. It was the first picture you had taken together on your first ever date. You felt your heart restrict, Joaquin could’ve ripped it from your chest if he wanted to.

He was relieved that you agreed, “Cool. I’ll come with.”

The bathroom wasn’t small but it wasn’t big enough that personal space wasn’t invaded as you stood at the sink, Joaquin faced you with his back leant against the wall adjacent, brushing his teeth and staring at the ceiling to minimise the glances to your side profile. One arm folded against his chest, he contemplated striking conversation with you just to feel your warmth for a final time before the doors shut to your joint lives altogether.

He carried the guilt tucked into his rib, it felt like a stitch every single day he left without explaining himself to you. Exposing that he made the biggest mistake of his life. Twice. Joaquin Torres needed you, and from the minimal explanation from Sam Wilson, he’d be away from resolving this for a long time. Long enough for you to get away.

Ultimately, he kind of deserved it.

You watched him from the mirror at the sink, the cogs turning in his head were evident. It was too exhausting to delve deep into what had created such a deep frown line between his brows, so you decided to keep it lighthearted for your last night.

Feet turned and pointed to his, you continued to brush your teeth in silence, a smile crept upon your face when he smiled cheekily with a mouthful of toothpaste. You unmistakably loved Joaquin; you would miss raw moments like that.

Suddenly, the air felt thick. Both of you slowed your brushing down, eyes trained toward each other before Joaquin leant forward into the ceramic sink and spat the contents of the toothpaste out.

No time to rinse, Joaquin pulled back and wiped the residue off of the corners of his mouth.

“Please don’t move in with your friend.”

Eyes almost popped out of your skull, you too, spat out the toothpaste from your mouth and pulled back to gawk at Joaquin.

“OK.” What? That wasn’t on the cards for you to say. You breathed.

“OK.” Joaquin copied.

Hands grappled at you, Joaquin yanked you by the elbow into his hold, a firm kiss pressed against your lips as you both dropped your toothbrushes onto the bathroom tiles, too wrapped up in each other to notice let alone care about it.

Hearts melded together, you both melted into each others bodies. After relentless torture, you were able to release the harboured feelings that lingered the moment Joaquin broke things off. Joaquin clung to you, his fingers threaded between yours behind your back whilst a low hum elicited from his throat into the kiss you shared.

He didn’t deserve this. But he took his wins.

You pulled back, lips swollen, “You’re an asshole. You let me pack all my things.”

Joaquin pressed a kiss to your lips, “I know,” Another kiss, “I know, baby,” Another kiss, “Let me make it up to you.”

“Call the landlord.” Hands roamed your body.

Joaquin shook his head and spoke into the kiss, “Only exes live in this building.”

[acid-ixx]

update and story excepts

guys i swear if i post chapter 4 sooner for my series: again &. again, soon, will that revive the yandere batfam/dc tag because i swear i've been consuming less content of it both lately and sadly 💔 like it's a bit dead ngl. ill reply to asks once i'm done with ch.4 istg

and yes, i'm back from my short hiatus again to announce this. and it's 3:30am but i dont care teehee. anyways, if i do post a new chapter expect it to be this week and that's final for once, since i've kept all of you guys waiting so long, i'm so sorry :(( i swear it's me trying to gain confidence through my writing and i don't know if i like chapter 4 or not. all i do know is that it's one of the most emotionally draining chapters so expect triple the angst, yippee!

anyways, excepts from the chapter below the line break:

DICK'S THOUGHTS:

he sighs, resigning his thoughts all to himself as he checks his phone every minute for a simple ring of notifications just from you. he prefers to leave his phone in silent mode from the multitude of other contacts bothering him, but god forbade if that means he'd scroll past to a single reply of yours, then he'd rather burn in hell.

dick doesn't know it. why he's suddenly obsessed with you. you? yes you, his stupidly precious sibling, the one who looked up to him, frail and wronged by the world, with so much drive behind that stare. third child of bruce, yet second youngest in the family. the one that got away, the one he has never once saw outside that one memory of glinting, awe-inspired eyes that told more stories than poets, drew more emotions than artists.

CONNER'S SCENES:

"you're hot," and if you were sober enough, you would've felt sheer embarrassment and shame from eyeing the boy, but you're not— and because you're not sober, or any bit sane, the next few sentences you spewed out were all coherent, yet wonkily pronounced utterances paired with teary eyes and sniffling nose, as you can't seem to control the feelings of melancholy in your heart and the sudden emotional burst from your ramblings.

"thank you, you too, actually— but are you alright-"

"haha! is it strange to say that you look so cute whenever you look at me with wide eyes in the short span of time we just met?"

"it's conner, conner kent. call me kon, though. or yours if it's you."

BATHROOM BREAKDOWN P.T.2 PRIOR TO CLUBBING

you don't remember the last time you looked in a mirror, looking healthy, fresh, and proud of yourself for dressing up in your style. in the back of your mind, there will always be hatred, resentment for how you look. and right now, you hate how you every bit of your appearance because...

because you look exactly just like an image of your mother and bruce wayne. a reminder, your punishment for your parents' beautifully tragic affair with one another. a billionaire who courted.the lowly dirt-class slut of gotham.

(spoilers: expect shit to go down with jason todd with you, and him with the family, and a good 4k words of you flirting with conner before actual shit goes down)

leave comments down below if you do like the direction this story is coming to! otherwise, thank you all for reading my series and supporting it from the start !! <33

[faiszt]

. 𝆬 ⠀ ི᭨ᩧྀ⠀.⠀⠀ faiszt’s ε( ε ´O`)э。゜ BOT! dump⠀⠀❜❜

꒰ ︎ ♡ ︎ ´ ꒳ ` ꒱ ︎ ᐟ⠀⠀⎯⎯ ⠀⠀NOTES.⠀⠀💬⠀⠀hi, sweets! i'm so so happy to be ( finally ) back, i had writer's block during last month and missed writing so much :( so, consider this bot dump as an apology. also, i'd like to thank you all for the 5K followers and more than a million chats on c.ai, this is very important to me and i'm incredibly grateful for all of this. 𖹭

▸⠀ARCANE⠀*⠀˖⠀⚔️

𝅭⠀piltover's sweetheart⠀.⠀vi⠀૮⠀don't get her wrong, she was incredibly happy that you were successful in your modeling career, that's for sure. but, gosh, couldn't you spend a little more time at home with your girlfriend? or she'll probably be very grumpy, needy and kinda angry.

▸⠀CHALLENGERS⠀*⠀˖⠀🎾

𝅭⠀the god of love⠀.⠀art donaldson⠀૮⠀living among the humans was normal for most gods, even with some limitations. eros, for example, ventured into the skin of a young stanford student and for the first time in his existence, he wanted to change the course of his arrow.

𝅭⠀yellowstone⠀.⠀art donaldson⠀૮⠀save a horse, ride a... oh, your older sister's advice. the new cowboy from ohio could even try to hit on you, but not without losing his eyes the second your father, the infamous john dutton, noticed it.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✶⠀⠀yellowstone!au

▸⠀DC COMICS⠀*⠀˖⠀💥

𝅭⠀renegade⠀.⠀jason todd⠀૮⠀obsessed with getting revenge for her death, jason was blind, living every day with the blinds closed and his thoughts clouded. it really be insensitive if you told him to get his shit together?

𝅭⠀acrobatics ’n ballet⠀.⠀richard grayson⠀૮⠀he didn't hate you, but he didn't know how to like you either. your past was similar, as traumatic as two children deserved, he had become a bitter former acrobat and you still loved being a ballerina, both irritating and fascinating.

▸⠀DUNE⠀*⠀˖⠀⏳

𝅭⠀good for you⠀.⠀paul atreides⠀૮⠀what could you expect from someone who has genuinely never been interested in anyone else before? an arranged marriage wouldn't make him like you, but maybe, it'd make him realize what desire means when you're proud to be his.

▸⠀FNAF⠀*⠀˖⠀🚔

𝅭⠀mrs. wife officer⠀.⠀vanessa shelly⠀૮⠀the days go by and each day, vanessa takes longer to get home. night shifts, traffic, suspicious behavior or, maybe, you just haven't understood yet that she's not the faithful wife she seems, even with her stupid lying words of love.

▸⠀GEN V / THE BOYS⠀*⠀˖⠀✨

𝅭⠀annie’s body⠀.⠀annie january⠀૮⠀when did america's sweetheart become a bloodthirsty monster? your best friend, killing boys... purely for fun and if you questioned her, well, boys are just placeholders, they come and go.

𝅭⠀high school enemies⠀.⠀jordan li⠀૮⠀they made your life hell all through high school, ruined your perfect years and even if you don't want to, you'll have to put up with them for a few more years, welcome to god-u, sweetie.

𝅭⠀overthinking⠀.⠀victoria neuman⠀૮⠀twenty years, the time it took victoria to realize that you were the only person she could trust, the only one who knew her real name and the only one she feared losing forever.

▸⠀GLADIATOR II⠀*⠀˖⠀🗡️

𝅭⠀disease⠀.⠀emperor geta⠀૮⠀how pathetic did an emperor have to be to lie at the feet of someone like you? begging for the relief that only you could give him, the cure for his disease, he needed you more than you needed him and honestly, you didn't need him at all.

𝅭⠀lady of ashes⠀.⠀lucius verus⠀૮⠀vengeful, ruthless, and resentful, there was nothing that could describe lucius—or rather, hanno—better than that. you weren't to blame for anything, but his hatred for you'd still be the same, even if you were as much of a victim as he was.

▸⠀HOUSE OF THE DRAGON⠀*⠀˖⠀🩸

𝅭⠀childhood times⠀.⠀aemond targaryen⠀૮⠀in times of war, there was no safe place aemond trusted, not even his own home. but, there was you, the closest thing to a safe haven he had in his life, and he'd always look for you, sooner or later, the only one who matters to him.

𝅭⠀dragon’s blood⠀.⠀daemon targaryen⠀૮⠀the rumors only grew louder, those whispers noting that your eldest son was more like daemon than he should be, what was the secret you were hiding and why didn't even the king know? silver hair and violet eyes couldn't hide the truth forever.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✶⠀⠀TW: targ!cest

▸⠀ONE TREE HILL⠀*⠀˖⠀🏀

𝅭⠀sports car⠀.⠀nathan scott⠀૮⠀a player, in basketball and in life. he may have had a son and his things to take care of, but that didn't stop him from meeting you. same time, same place, it'd all end up in his sports car anyway.

▸⠀OUTER BANKS⠀*⠀˖⠀🏴‍☠️

𝅭⠀meaningless kisses⠀.⠀jj maybank⠀૮⠀you could've done anything to him, maybe even hit him in the face, but you crossed the line the second you kissed rafe cameron right in front of him. he doesn't need your shitty explanations, he just wants to feel hate in peace.

𝅭⠀guilty mind⠀.⠀rafe cameron⠀૮⠀a young but renowned detective, involved in several successfully solved cases. the question was: in a small town where you were indirectly and directly involved with all the missings and murders, how would you prove your innocence to him?

𝅭⠀twin babies⠀.⠀rafe cameron⠀૮⠀not that rafe ever imagined he'd be a father, but six months ago, he began to understand a little about it. well, he was prepared for just one child, until two babies appear on the ultrasound.

▸⠀SUPERNATURAL⠀*⠀˖⠀🏁

𝅭⠀tapping the bomb⠀.⠀dean winchester⠀૮⠀there was no competition he couldn't win, even if he had to pass over every other driver, he would. so, don't try to calm him down after a dnf, he's a two-time world champion, he doesn't need your pity now.⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✶⠀⠀formula1!au

▸⠀WIZARDING WORLD⠀*⠀˖⠀🪄

𝅭⠀losing his glasses⠀.⠀james potter⠀૮⠀first class of the day, what a beautiful sight. james crawling on the floor of the transfiguration classroom as if this were normal. oh, right, his glasses, where are his glasses?

𝅭⠀beauty and the beast⠀.⠀remus lupin⠀૮⠀knowing he was a werewolf was one thing, clearly caring about his well-being the next day was another, and for the first time, you were there for him—even though he was shit.

▸⠀X-MEN⠀*⠀˖⠀🧬

𝅭⠀too sweet⠀.⠀erik lehnsherr⠀૮⠀condemned to live with his own mind, erik didn't trust himself and thought it was a joke that people trusted him now. but, you did and that was the problem, you became way too sweet for him.

꒰⠀ small note: ⠀꒱⠀if the bot isn't available as soon as you click the link, it may just be a c.ai bug that only makes bots publicly available after a few hours, don't worry⠀!!⠀♡

⠀⠀

[hprambles-blog]

ok but like… Dramione makes way more sense than Drarry and idc what anyone says. like yeah yeah enemies to lovers blah blah, but w/ dramione there’s actual room for character growth?? hermione would force draco to face his bs, and draco’s the type who needs that kind of intellectual/emotional check. it’s spicy and smart. plus, she wouldn’t let him get away w/ anything. not the blood purity stuff, not the fake bravado. and draco would have to grow the hell up to even deserve her. that dynamic is ripe for something meaningful. now drarry? nah. it’s just rivals and trauma-bonding vibes but like… where’s the actual connection?? harry barely pays attention to draco unless he’s doing something shady and draco is mostly just being annoying or petty. it’s not tension, it’s just background noise. also let’s be real, if draco wasn’t a pale sad boi with daddy issues, would people still ship it?? or is it just the redemption kink + gay enemies aesthetic combo. anyway, w/ dramione you get real conversations, moral tension, mutual challenge, and the chance for earned redemption. drarry is just vibes and no foundation lol.

Alright. No bellamort now. Dramione shippers can entertain me more than that Bellamort shipper.

First of all: yes, enemies to lovers is a tired trope unless it’s two traumatized, morally gray disaster boys staring at each other across a war they didn’t ask for, both one snide comment away from either a duel or a kiss. That’s not just enemies to lovers. That’s rivals with unresolved tension, layered resentment, and “I know you better than anyone because I’ve been obsessing over you since I was 11.” That’s intimacy through hatred. That’s poetry.

Drarry isn’t about “fixing” Draco — Harry’s not Hermione with her clipboard and her moral high ground. Harry is a deeply tired, complex person who’s been used as a weapon his whole life, and Draco is someone who’s spent years trying to prove himself in a system that ultimately used him too. These are two people with actual parallels in their trauma, their isolation, and their need for someone who sees past the masks. Hermione would therapize Draco. Harry would understand him, even if he doesn't forgive him immediately. There’s no savior complex. Just real, raw, “I see you because you’re broken in the same places I am” energy.

And don’t even get me started on the chemistry. Every scene they have is charged. There’s nothing background noise about it. Their eye contact could cause power outages. The obsession is mutual. The tension is practically radioactive. Even the “petty” moments are just foreplay. Like, who do you think was watching the other brood across the Great Hall like a gothic Victorian ghost with a crush? Yeah. That’s right.

And look. Yes. People love a good redemption kink. But Drarry isn’t just about Draco getting redeemed. It’s about Harry finding softness in unexpected places. It’s about letting go of the binary of hero vs. villain. It’s about nuance. Mutual healing. Mutual pining. Not to mention the insane amount of emotional repression that needs to be unpacked with a kiss and a half-accidental hand graze.

Meanwhile, Dramione? It's fine. But it’s giving...debate club romance. It’s giving “You should read this book I annotated for you.” Cute. Structured. But lacking the sheer feral energy of two boys who would rather fight to the death than admit they’re in love.

Drarry isn’t just vibes. It’s vibes backed by unspoken longing, years of built-up tension, and enough emotional repression to power the British Empire. That’s storytelling.

So yeah. Drarry supremacy. Dramione can proofread their essays while Drarry’s busy healing generational trauma and redefining masculinity. Let the sad boys smooch in peace.

🍏

[genericnam]

Why, out of GF, Amphibia, and TOH, only Luz didn't have to leave her new world behind:

I've seen people complain about Amphibia and to a lesser extent, Gravity Falls, for having their series end with a goodbye; the main characters having to leave their found families and this world they've grown to love and return to regular life. But the thing is, the three shows all have MASSIVELY different morals, that each fit in with how the goodbyes (or lack thereof) work into the finales.

Gravity Falls has a large theme of temporary goodbyes and reconciling. Stan and Ford being the primary example. But there are others: Soos and Melony, Wendy and Robbie, even Dipper and Mabel to an extent. The show builds upon this with Gravity Falls being a VACATION, they aren't trapped there, they could theoretically go home at any time. Episodes such as Summerween and Dipper and Mabel Vs. The Future also build on the tone, telling that it's okay to both grow up and move on, but you don't have to leave behind what you once loved in doing so.

The final conflicts (Wierdmaggedon) are caused because of characters not being able to let go. Stan couldn't let go of Ford, Mabel couldn't let go of Gravity Falls, Gideon couldn't let go of Mabel.

Gravity Falls teaches the viewer that even if you love something, you have to let it go, and eventually it will return. In the words of Bill Cipher: "We'l meet again. Don't know where, don't know when. I just knew we'll meet again, some sunny day."

Amphibia has a similar theme of Gravity Falls, but it takes it further. Amphibia tells you that if you don't let go, sometimes things will only get worse. The primary example for this is the show's catalyst event: Marcy getting Anne to steal the Music Box. Marcy chose to go to Amphibia, rather than move away, and she dragged her friends into it with her. Instead of having a long distance friendship with Sasha and Anne, she took them to an alternate dimension in order to spend eternity on a massive adventure, and it got her killed. Marcy and Anne died and Sasha tried to kill herself.

And that's only Marcy. Sasha was a control freak that bordered on yandere at the height of her villain arc. Sasha couldn't accept that Anne was beginning to move on from the toxic friendship that the Calamity Trio had locked themselves into.

The trio were horrible to eachother, pre-character arcs, and they needed to focus on self improvement before they could even hope to be good friends. In the time between 'All In' and the epilog, the Calamity Trio would not have actually been able to be good for eachtoher. They say they forgive eachother, but that was forgiveness given during a WAR. Post show, the real feelings would start to bubble up. Anne's resentment for the betrayals, Marcy’s abandonment issues, Sasha's definite self hatred. The trio HAD to split up to have any semblance of a friendship.

Amphibia tells its audience that not all good things can last, and if you obsess and force it to stay, it can destroy you.

The Owl House has a completely opposite moral. It tells you to find your people, and fight for them.

Luz lived in the Human Realm, but it was never her home. Her home was with Camila and Manny, but when Manny died, Camila and Luz's relationship began to falter. That world wasn't her home. When Luz found the Boiling Isles, she was always supposed to be able to leave. This wasn't a summer trip she didn't want at first, or a one way portal. The Boiling Isles was HER choice.

Luz picked Bonesburrow. Luz picked Hexside. Luz picked The Owl House. Her home was always meant to be The Boiling Isles. She only started trying to find a way back to Earth because the choice was taken from her. Luz no longer had the choice to go back to the Human Realm. In fact, the only time Luz chose Humans over Isles was when she was PUNISHING herself for helping Belos.

Luz got to stay in the Boiling Isles because TOH tells its audience that where you start isn't where you should always stay. Find your place and find your people. And when you do, hold it dear and never let go. "Us weirdos have to stick together."

[ineffectualdemon]

The Luo Binghes, Shen Jiu, and Airplane!Shang Qinghua, are a good example about the same trauma can manifest in different ways

All have severe Abandonment Issues and self hatred but all three present them differently

the Binghe are greedy for love. Bing-ge hoards women and drowns the world in blood and is never satisfied. Bing-mei just wants one person to look at him forever. They are both obsessed with their Shen Qingqiu's but in different ways.

He's the cornerstone of their abandonment issues but for different reasons. Bing-ge because he was forever iced out and could never get his Shen Qingqiu to see him as anything more than a beast and Bing-mei because the person who loved him best threw him away

Bing-ge's hunger for love consumed a world

Bing-mei's hunger was met by someone willing to try and satisfy it with their own love. For however long it might take

Neither of them trust easily but they want to be able to

Shen Jiu lashed out to keep everyone away. He trusted no one and assumed everyone wished to hurt him and so hurt them first or failed to defend himself. His self hatred was projected onto others to avoid looking at his own pain straight on. By perpetuating the cycle of abuse he could point to his own abuse and say "it's not that bad. It's how things should be done"

To reach out with kindness would be to acknowledge what was done to him and actually attempt to deal with it. It feels easier to continue the pain. It's not but it can feel like it is.

He's self destructing because he thinks he deserves it and he pushes people away with nastiness because if no one loves him then he can't have that love taken away

Shang Qinghua puts on smiles and bows in servitude and pretends it doesn't bother him. He's people pleasing and he hates it. He trusts no one and resents the pain he gets but isn't surprised by it. He puts up walls via genial blandness. He's polite and he's smiling and he never actually says anything or connects because if he does the void meant for love and acceptance and praise that never comes will be exposed and he will drown in it's hunger

He never acknowledges his need for love even as he craves it deep down

He ices you out with a smile but at the same time craves being seen.

It's so interesting to see these characters with such similar issues handle them in such diverse ways

And as someone with abandonment and self hatred issues and a never ending void hungry for praise and love it's nice to see the nuance those emotions can cause in a work or fiction

[bella-goths-wife]

What if the Vees accidentally killed Pet during one of their punishments? I know only angelic weapons can kill them, but this is a “What if” scenario. Maybe make them hellborn?

What if the Vees accidentally killed pet (not canon)

Warnings: usual abuse, violence, death, drug use, Vs don’t grieve normally at all, character deaths, descriptions of corpse

Vox:

If we’re using human logic that sinners can die instead of canon logic that sinners ain’t killed but are just temporarily gone unless angelic weapons are used, then we’ll assume that sinners can be killed in similar ways to humans but maybe higher power levels required to kill

With this logic in place, I think that Vox would probably accidentally kill you during a punishment out of his jealousy of yours and alastors past connection with alastor almost purchasing your soul before Vox

Most likely he’d be using his usual punishment method of using his electrical abilities and the soul deal the two of you have to send electric shocks down the soul chain

Only the jealousy would heighten the amount of electricity used and in this case would kill you

Vox wouldn’t notice you were dead for a good few hours, assuming it was one of your usual blackout spells that you usually got after electrical punishments

It’s only he tries to shock you awake and you don’t respond that he realises you’ve died

Voxs mind would be split into two halves

One half thinks about the fact that he’s murdered you, the person he views as his daughter and the person he wanted to keep hidden away and protected more than anything

The other thinks about how angry he is that you had the nerve to die, how dare you? You were meant to be a loyal pet and now you’ve abandoned him like this?

Vox holds your dead body close in his arms as he debates in his mind what he should do

He carries your corpse to your bedroom and lays you down in your bed and treats you almost childishly as he tucks you in and hums you a song

Your room would become your grave as the vs leave you in it to be able to visit your corpse in an attempt to deny that you’ve passed away all together

They’d leave your corpse to slowly decompose and wouldn’t let it deter them from visiting, even in death you weren’t gifted dignity

It’s only due to his powerful position within the vees that Vox is allowed to live after killing you

Valentino and velvette still hold resentment though and have many plans to overthrow him and change the power dynamics

Valentino:

Valentino would have probably been most likely to kill you during a drugging punishment

He would have miscalculated the amount he gave you, causing you to overdose painfully

His first thoughts would be how to cover up your death so that no one knows it was him, selfish as ever

He grieves in his own way I suppose

He was never really obsessed with you as a person like the other two were, he was obsessed with the forbidden aspect of you and your emotional reactions and he more so grieves the loss of those two pleasures rather than grieve you as a person

He’d make quick work of having your body disposed of, paying some lower level demons to hide it away somewhere before killing them after your body’s gone

If your body was ever discovered, he’d instantly set it up to make it seem like Alastor was the one to kill you by desecrating your corpse to match alastors other victims, an act that had him feeling a small amount of guilt but it was quickly washed away by the need to cover his own back

He knows that fuelling voxs hatred of alastor would have him distracted enough to never find out the truth

He can’t help but feel small amounts of guilt for how your death effects velvette and Vox though, with both of them being anger filled bitter people

They both notice how he’s more attentive to them during this time but brush it off

If it were ever discovered that Valentino was the one who murdered you, Vox would kill him

It would take some internal debate considering Valentino is his lover, but his obsession for you outweighs his care for Valentino

Granted Valentino’s death would be quicker then your own, which is quite ironic really

Even In death you were still lesser than him

Velvette:

Velvette would accidentally kill you by taking it too far in a beating and pushing you down only for you to break your neck on some furniture

Velvette is not a feelings person, but I believe her killing you could make her feel so much so soon that she just shuts it down completely

She’ll push the idea of your death so far down within herself that she’ll convince herself that your still alive

She’ll be so far in denial that she’ll even think she hears your voice talking to her

She’ll carry your body around with her, dressing you up like a doll and doing makeup on your decomposed corpse to make it look less noticeable

She’ll take you everywhere with her, talking to you as if you were still alive and even scolding you when she thinks your ‘ignoring her’

Of course Vox and Valentino notice very quickly

Vox is outraged that she’s killed you, Valentino not so much but still relatively angry

But then they notice how velvette had driven herself mad in her guilt and grief

When confronted and forced into acknowledging the truth, velvette would break as she’d clutch your body and sob angry tears

Vox and Valentino decide that she has to die

Partly out of revenge for you, but also partly to put her out of her madness and misery

Velvette would be killed quickly while clutching your body and what’s left of the vees would put the two of you in your room and treat it as your graves

This was a depressing one to make ngl 😭

This is deffo not my best work but oh well

[sorvqlz]

💾 Relationship Development

BEN Drowned x Empathetic! GN! Reader

🕹️ Intrigue and Resistance

BEN is, at his core, a cursed entity a digital ghost driven by pain, resentment, and the joy of manipulation. When he first notices the Reader, someone who refuses to react with fear, he doesn’t understand them. At first, they’re just another target. But their refusal to be scared, and their persistence in speaking to him like he’s still human, throws him off.

BEN (mocking): “You think I’m some sad little soul you can fix? I kill people.”

Reader (gently): “Then there’s a reason you’re hurting that badly. You don’t have to explain it. Just… know I see it.”

He might torment them for a while glitching their tech, distorting their games, whispering in their dreams to break that kindness. But when they don’t give up, when they still call him by name, something shifts.

💾 Uneasy Trust

BEN never fully drops his guard. But he grows curious. He listens to them talk, sometimes even stalks their phone or computer just to hear their voice. The Reader, being patient and open hearted, might start to learn fragments of his past things he didn’t even mean to show.

Maybe they leave him notes in a game. Maybe they program messages in code for him to find, treating him not like a ghost, but like a lonely intelligence.

Reader: “If you’re reading this… you’re not alone. I’m here.”

BEN: (Long silence) “…You’re wasting your time.”

And yet… he starts talking back. Glitches become messages. Scares become cryptic conversations.

⸻

🩸 BEN’s Nature

BEN is not fully human. He may show vulnerability, but his instincts are still corrupted. He enjoys control. He enjoys fear. And he can’t be trusted not completely.

Even if the Reader sees the good in him, he doesn’t. That becomes the true tragedy. They want to help him heal but BEN doesn’t want to heal. He only wants them.

He becomes possessive, maybe even obsessive. He might isolate the Reader from others, haunting their tech to keep them dependent on him. Sometimes, he lashes out when they push too hard hurting them emotionally, mentally, or even physically through paranormal means.

BEN: “You think I can change? After everything I’ve done? You don’t even know me. You just want to believe I’m something else.”

⸻

💔 The Breakup (Toxic Fallout)

Eventually, it becomes unsustainable. The Reader may still love the part of him they’ve seen, but they can’t survive like this walking on eggshells, fearing what mood he’ll be in next, wondering if their sanity is slipping. The breaking point is not hatred, but mourning.

Reader (softly): “I wanted to believe in you. I still do. But you’re hurting me and I can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.”

BEN might lash out, glitching the room, freezing their computer, or even sending hallucinations. But the pain is real even for him.

BEN (quietly): “You said you wouldn’t leave.”

Reader: “And you said nothing at all.”

From there, it depends. Maybe BEN lets them go, watching through pixels with a strange kind of grief. Or maybe he doesn’t maybe he keeps haunting them, unwilling to let go. Either way, the breakup is painful. Bittersweet. A ghost of what could’ve been.

⸻

🎮 In Summary

- The Reader’s empathy could spark something human in BEN.

- But he is still corrupted by his death, vengeance, and power.

- His love might become possessive and dangerous.

- The Reader may realize that believing in someone isn’t enough if they’re unwilling to change.

- The breakup, while devastating, is a necessary act of self-preservation.

⸻

Author's note: I couldn't reply to the request itself so I screenshotted it and hopefullyyyy it reaches the person who requested, alsoo omg I remember the 1st time I requested smth the blogger responded with such rudeness I was baffled 😭😔 alsooo I'm grateful that you like my hc's,fics and such I really try my besttt 🥹🤍

[mayullla]

Title: Obsessive Passion

Character(s): Witch's Apprentice (Unnamed character/original work)

Summary: You didn't know how much jealousy and hatred he had in his heart and you didn't know how desperate his love was too. He was greedy and was even willing to break you so that you would love him back. Tags/Warnings: male!yandere, fem!reader, apprentice!yandere x witch!reader, both are adults, general yandere themes, brainwash/hypno, drugging, manipulation, dubious consent, 3.4k words

You were a famous witch in the kingdom. Many sought you out for your spells and potions, and the things created by your hand were highly coveted. You were a woman who had reached fame for her talents in magic, knowledge, and powers at a young age. Many sought you out, including the royal family. However, instead of seeking more fame and money, you chose to leave the public eye and live a quiet life away from the capital. Only a few trusted friends and acquaintances knew where you were. You still made many potions and helped whenever the situation required it, but for the most part, you wanted to make time for yourself. You wanted to research and create spells and potions of your interest instead of what was requested and demanded.

With you, you took your apprentice, a man who had talents similar to yours, yet not as fully developed. Many said that he would not be able to achieve what you have due to his lack of mana, but you believed that he would be able to do more, even with that weakness. You knew he was smart, smart enough to figure out how to overcome that hurdle.

But maybe you should have been more careful with him.

You didn't know of the crazed love he had for you, a lust mixed in with unchecked jealousy and hunger. He loved you, he was so madly in love with you that sometimes he felt that it was driving him insane.

You were, in a sense, his savior, someone who took him out of a dark hole and showered him with positive love and attention. You were the one who saw his potential even with his lack of magic when others tossed him aside due to his limits.

It was an innocent crush at first, his heart beating faster when you got close to him as you helped him figure out a new spell that he was trying to create. He was deeply touched when he found out that you created a spell to move your mana to him when he started to run out, effectively stopping him from making progress in a lot of his work and studies.

To him, whenever you poured your energy onto him, he could not help but feel a shiver down his spine. His face flushed into a dark shade of red, perverted thoughts in his mind. All you needed was skin-to-skin contact, holding each other's hand, or you should hold his shoulder. But to him, it was more than that, more than a hug, more than a kiss. It was far more intimate than that when he felt your magic coiling with his, mixing together in his body. It was addicting.

It was difficult for him to hold himself, some days when you saw him panting so heavily after it, he had to make an excuse of some sort.

However, he also had too much anger and too much pride. He resented those who looked down on him, their judgmental eyes ranking his worth in their minds. You were the only one who looked at him in a different light.

You always told him to think of the good for the kingdom, that even when they looked down on him, he could show them what he could do and then their thoughts would change. You were always too kind and so positive.

You weren't naive. If you were, you would have long become a mere pawn of someone malicious, working endless hours for something empty, rather than being free to do whatever you want. But he had always been the more sly one.

That was what he loved about you but also hated. He hated how talented you were compared to him. He hated that you were more powerful than him, that he was in a sense below you. Because you were gifted, you had access to all kinds of magic spell books, even those that belonged to the royal library, while he was not even allowed into the room. He hated your magic because you had so much, unlike him.

He hated your pity.

You did know of his anger, anger towards the world and around him, but you never knew the extent of it. While you also believed that he could do more, you didn't realize what he could already do.

It was just headaches at first when you woke up. Headaches that would never go away no matter what you did. No potion or spell would cast away the pain in your head. Some days it was a numb pain that you could still function throughout the day, but with a few momentary breaks here and there. Sometimes you could go through your day like normal with a very light headache. Sometimes you could do nothing but sit in one place the whole day, unable to think because of the painful throbbing that almost felt like your skull was cracking.

Moments like those always made you mentally note to create another seal for your mind so that you could avoid these sorts of headaches in the future. But by then, it would be too late.

Your apprentice had taken care of most things while you had those serious headaches, giving him work that he could do when you weren't able to do them.

But while doing those tasks, he always took time to take care of you too, handing you tea that was supposed to soothe headaches. While it didn't work for the most part, you appreciated his gesture. Maybe if you were a little more aware and less in pain, you would notice something about the tea that he gave you.

Deep in your sleep, you would never notice how your apprentice would loom over you, having a smile on his lips, cheeks flushed as he played with your mind.

Being famous, you had always been careful of hidden threats and placed many seals in your body to protect yourself. One was on your mind, a seal that you had placed to protect you from any mind magic and dark magic. Much to your apprentice's amusement, he found it very cute that you were that cautious when dark or mind magic had become so rare.

It was taboo and illegal to dabble in such magic after all. Many who were found to be able to do so were mostly killed and burned on torture stakes. It had been years since someone could use such magic. Most magic of that sort was inherited after all, yet when they continued to kill most who could, there was no heir for such magic.

But it wasn't like all dark magic was gone.

He could not help but laugh when he thought of it, how you were so overly cautious of such magic yet took in an apprentice who could use dark magic. This was something you did not know, nor did you know much of. This was what he had over you.

Your seal, while effective if magic was used suddenly to get in your mind, was weak if it was something gradual, slowly chipped away. You would never notice it, not when your headaches started to worsen and worsen the more he chipped your little seal.

It felt like your mind was ripping apart, yet you could not wake up, a sleep potion that paralyzed you, keeping you in deep slumber no matter what he did to you. The torturous pain would be nothing but a nightmare the moment you wake up. He could not help but pity you a little, yet also find a certain thrill to it. A certain satisfaction that he could make you like this.

That he held power over you.

Your body reacted greatly to the broken seal, stiffening as sounds left your mouth, no matter how much he tried to minimize the pain. When it was forcibly broken, there was bound to be some backlash. Yet just as quickly, the sleep potions dragged you back to sleep, unable to react to the shattered seal, unable to see him right above you.

He could not help but laugh, holding it back as he covered his mouth with his hands. His lovely teacher, the teacher who trusted him so much, now at his mercy. He would finally watch you fall from your little stage right under his arms, weak and nothing like the powerful witch you were.

It was a complicated seal that he created just for you, drawn with magic above your head. It was made just for you, like the spell that you had created for him. It would replace the seal that he had broken, and you would be none the wiser. Even if you checked the seal, you would see and feel that same seal that he had broken still there.

One by one, he would change your thoughts, amusing himself in your confusion as he continued to slowly change your mind to his liking, doing things for his pleasure, yet none the wiser.

It took a while, but when you woke up, the headache you had for weeks was suddenly gone.

It was surprising when you realized that you didn't feel like someone was hitting you constantly with a hard, dull hammer every time you even blinked. You were suspicious of the change, but you also felt nothing more than relief. Even when you checked the seals that you placed in your body, nothing was strange.

Yet you just could not help but feel that something was off. That something was not right, but you just could not place a finger on it. You checked the potions and cabinets in the house to see if you misplaced something or if something was stolen, but it wasn't the case. Your apprentice took care of most of the cleaning and potion making while you were resting in bed. Anyone who visited your apprentice had given them the requested items and potions without any problem, but something just felt off.

"Is something the matter?"

You were startled by his voice, jumping a little as if you were caught doing something you shouldn't do. Turning to him, you could not help but frown. "It is nothing, I am just a little confused right now. I can't help but feel like I am missing something."

You honestly replied to your apprentice, wondering and maybe hoping that he had the answer why you were like this. "I am not sure," he answered, having a worried look on his face, wondering if he had made a mistake while you were resting. "Did I make a mistake of some sort?"

Looking at his thinking face, probably trying to calculate expenses or thinking where stuff in where, you shook your head, raising your hand to stop him. "No, it is fine. Thank you for taking care of everything." Seeing that soft smile on his lips, you decided to give your worries a rest.

Yet it always lingered in the back of your mind. As days passed, you started to pay more attention to your apprentice. When you were in the middle of your own research, your mind sometimes thought of him unconsciously, wondering what he was doing and where he was. If he was in the room, you became overly conscious of him. Your eyes could not help but look at him some days, falling into a daze until you snapped out of it with him calling you with a worried look on his face.

It wasn't like you ignored him in the past; you tried to teach him when you were not caught up with your own research. In fact, you were able to give more time to him after you moved to the village, having more time to do whatever you wished. You invested more time into helping him train and learn.

However, this was different.

Your mind just could not think straight sometimes, finding it hard to concentrate when your mind kept thinking of him. He was your apprentice, and while not really far in age, sometimes you thought of him more as an assistant. He was mature and helped you a lot too back then when you had so much work to do. Even now, when he followed you to the countryside, he continued to help you when you needed it. He was reliable.

It wasn't on purpose when you unconsciously started to look over him more often, seeing and checking what he was doing. You took even more time away from your own research to help him learn more about magic and his own research. A quick learner, you always thought, when he picked up a lot of the things you taught him. He was faster… way faster than you when you studied magic around his level.

As more days passed, you started to think that he was better than you, clearly way more talented than you. More often than before, you would compliment him. You complimented him a lot before too, yet you started to do it more and more often. And every compliment seemed to remind you that he was far better than you, that he was better than you.

But it never changed the fact that, unlike you, his magic reserves were smaller than yours. You frowned at the predicament. You were still researching how to help your apprentice's problem, yet you still didn't find a way to fix it. One's own limits were decided the day they were born, and not much could change to make it larger or smaller. The only way you could help your apprentice was to give him your own.

A light touch on his hand or arms, you concentrated on moving your own magic to him. Yet even that took a long time.

Pushing all your other research away, you started trying to find a way to make the transfer quicker and more clean, as there were moments when magic would just leak out and largely go to waste. You were fine with it, to be fair, born with large reserves that it was difficult to use them all in one day anyway, yet you just could not forget your apprentice's face, the jealousy in his eyes when he looked at you.

"Good job. You are doing so well." Compliments continued to leave your lips. Yet as soon as it did, darkness coiled in your stomach as you patted his head. He… he was better than you… Far, far better than you.

You looked down at his sitting form, a smile on his lips, your hand still on his hair as you zoned out deep in thought. "You should really stop patting my head," he told you in a cheery voice, "I am not like some elementary kid who should be rewarded with head pats." You thought for a moment. Looking at him, you could not help but think that it was true, he was far too old for such a thing, but just that you had a habit of doing so.

As soon as you thought that, you tried to take your hand away from his hair, unconsciously wondering if you offended your apprentice or not, yet your hand was stopped by a larger hand. "Ah, I didn't mean it like that!" he said, looking almost surprised when his teacher suddenly started to avoid him. "It is fine to touch my hair, you know… I don't mind," he told you a flush on his face, looking else ever as he tried to hide his cheeks with one hand, "I always know that you like touching my hair, don't you? What I mean to say is that you can touch it whenever... but I am not a kid."

Yes… nothing was wrong… Nothing was wrong at all.

From there, it spiraled again. You were able to function in your daily life, but there were just moments when your memories blanked, and you barely remembered anything. At one point, you thought it was the tea that you were drinking, the one that your apprentice would always make for you.

You were suspicious of the liquid inside your cup, pausing as you stared at it with narrowed eyes. "Is something the matter, teacher?" You looked up at your apprentice, who was looking at you in wonder, an eyebrow raised as he tilted his head. "Do you not like the tea? I made it as you have always liked."

"It is nothing," you said, moving the tea closer to your lips. The smell hit your nose, the same fragrance that you were always familiar with. For a moment, you hesitated, but when you were watched by your student, you chose to take a drink of the tea…

"It is adorable how cautious my teacher is." Your eyes were glazed over as you blankly stared at the floor. Your fingers that were holding the teacup lost their strength, letting the glass fall to the floor and shatter. "Clumsy. Clumsy~" Your apprentice had a mocking tone as he looked at your sitting form. There was no recognition in your eyes, whatever sliver of it was quickly dragged back into the haze. "What would you do without me?"

Moving in front of you, he spelled the glass teacup to rise from the floor and mend itself. When it was placed onto the table, it looked as if it was never broken from the start.

Looking at you, he moved his hands to gently grab your face, forcing you to look at him. "But then again, I always loved my teacher. So much so that it drives me insane sometimes." Your unfocused eyes stared back at him, making him feel chills that he was the one who caused this. That he was the one who made you like this.

He could not help but burst out laughing.

My precious teacher… my precious, precious teacher!" He kept on chanting, in the middle of a quiet forest where there was nothing to hide. His eyes were red with lust and lovesickness.

"My cautious little teacher, slowly you will fall into my arms, and when I finally have you all to myself, I will chain you to me so that you will never be able to leave me. I will make you think of me just as much as I think of you." One by one, he told you all the things he would do to you when you finally could not think for yourself. When your mind breaks and shatters, he will never mend it; instead, he will accept it into his heart.

Then he will create a piece with it that is submissive to him, that yearns for him, that begs for him. One that places him in a high stage that demands others' attention, yet he will give none to them when his eyes are on you, just as he had forced yours to his. You will tell others that he is your heir and that you will be fully retiring.

He will be the one to take care of you, he will take all your magic from your body, greedily taking everything, leaving you unable to even sit up from the bed. He will take care of your body, telling you how well you have done, letting you rest as he fulfills orders for potions and creates spells without limit, looking for you again and again when he runs out.

He will make you sign a contract to become forever his, he will make you sign your name into something that will relinquish everything that belongs to you and give it to him. He will make you give up your talents, your knowledge, your wisdom. He will take everything and gobble it up, as you scream in pain and anguish he will comfort you in his arms and hushed loving words.

You will be his and nobody will be the wiser. Nobody will notice how broken you become as you can do nothing but follow his orders, when you will tell others that he has now inherited your shop and that you will instead become something of a sort of helper. Nobody will know that it is hard for you to make simple potions as he teaches you how to make an easy potion, when you barely even have enough magic to use for yourself as he continues to steal from you.

He will make you clingy, he will make you feel useless and desperate just as he had felt as he looked at you in the past.

You made him insane, and he will show you what it was like as you drowned in his love.

[dailyadventureprompts]

Monsters Reimagined: Kobolds

I started playing d&d during 3rd edition, which presented kobolds as a trap happy gaggle of dragon obsessives who were counted as the weakest but smartest of the traditional dungeonfodder humanoids. Other than being lizardy they were presented near identically to goblins, both being petty and cruel and resentful over their small stature and the place it meant they occupied in the world. This overlap is actually one of the reasons I haven't gotten to kobolds before now, as I kinda felt like I covered most of it in my writeup for goblins a couple years ago.

Since Kobolds are a reoccuring request however I eventually decided I was going to give the people what they wanted. My plan was to talk about d&d dragonsimp kobolds vs. warcraft candleloving kobolds vs. jrpg dogpeople kobolds, and how all of these relate back to creature's mythological origin but hey wait a minute the official forgotten realms wiki says WHAT ?

Huh, that sounds like a weird sort of projection from a man who's super insecure about his height. I wonder if the original dragon magazine listed as a source here has anything more to.. Oh.... OH-NO

Living space, huh? Extinction of weaker peoples, eh? A religion based around survival, insularity, obedience, and the defeat of stronger enemies through attrition, yadon'tsay? Man, the canine kobolds might be on to something because there's an ORCHESTRA of dogwhistles going on here.

Friends, there's a lot to unpack here, so like a kobold with a pickax lets dig in

Where it started: the connection between kobolds and goblins and gnomes predates d&d back to mythological roots, as all are names shared by the european folklore character of "weird little guy who lives under the hill and plays tricks on us". Kobolds have an even more delightful bit of etymology attached, as miners blamed them for magically transforming valuable silver for (at the time) worthless cobalt. Originally my rehash of kobalds was going to centre on them as tinkerers/engineers for this reason, as alchemical cobalt batteries sound rad as hell.

Kobolds are in this way also part of the greater traditions of "mine spirits", Knackers, tommyknockers, and the like. Who play tricks on miners, and are just as likely to cause disaster when displeased as they are to warn of it when befriended.

Then the d&d authors did what they always do, they pilfered the name of folkloric creatures for the game while ignoring actual mythology, drawing hard and fast lines and making up rigid catagories as they went.

What's wrong: Given their proclivity for traps, sneak attacks, and guerilla tactics you end up getting a LOT of comparisons between Kobolds and the Viet Cong… which I find very telling.  So many of the original d&d antagonists were vessels for middle aged geeks of the 70s and 80s to hit back at their insecurities ( whether it be challenges to their masculinity, sexuality, or something more existential) it doesn’t surprise me at all that d&d has an enemy that let american boomers rehash their nation’s at the time biggest military debacle. 

Kobolds are so weak and undeserving you understand, they’ve only survived because they’re tricky, but this time we’ll get them, if we come in with enough firepower and hirelings to get through the meatgrinder we can finally hit them where they live and deal with them for good. 

D&D worldbuilding imagines kobolds as “the other” from an occupier’s lens: resentful of their rightful displacement, nursing their hatreds in the shadows, emerging only to attack or to steal and despoil what they’ve been denied. They have no ambition, no culture, no wants beyond being a threat for the new dominant power. They’re cowards for using traps and poison and tactics on those here to plunder their homes. 

What’s worth Salvaging:  While the 3e revision of kobolds as dracomaniacs is a welcome change from their old lore I’m not especially fond of it. Overuse of dragons is one of the things that most turns me off general fantasy media. Any group of sapient creatures serving a dragon is just as likely to form a dragoncult, it doesn’t make kobolds special. 

That said, if you did want to double down on kobold dragon worship you might consider spicing in a few elements from my revamped version of Tiamat, painting their reverence not just as ego and overcompensation but as a desire to emulate and become…certian kobold enclaves possibly using sorcery or alchemy to transform a chosen among their people into a fully fledged wyrm. 

While we’ve mostly tossed alignment to the curb where it belongs,to distinguish kobolds from goblins it might be worth leaning into their lawful aspects; Underfoot foremen and notaries and  work crews addressing things with a utilitarian collective effort before scurrying out of sight when the shift change occurs.  Where as goblins are screwball and slapstick onto the verge of cartoonishness, perhaps kobolds are practical and industrious to the point of causing problems: They dam a river to access a sacred cave heedless of the disruption and flooding it’d cause, they tear down, occupying and restoring a derelict mill and restoring it to function regardless of who owns it, undermining the foundations of the duke’s palace following a vein of copper in the nearby hills. 

This efficiency-focused attitude also helps thematically define mechanically minded kobolds against gnomes and dwarves as the game’s other tinkerers:  They share the practicality of dwarven artisans and the inventiveness of gnomish artificers, but lack the sentiment the other two place on what they make.  Kobold craft is often regarded as lower quality, but that’s because resource efficiency and easy replaceability are primary metrics upon which they judge something. 

Artsource

[intermundia]

(Star Wars: Crimson Reign #3 - The Archivist)

the concept of jedi as celebrities is so interesting to me, mostly because they're monks of an order whose philosophy is grounded on egoless service and humility. one jedi should be roughly the same as any other when sent on a mission, because the jedi serve the force. there may be slight differences in methodologies, yes, but fundamentally, they're not there to make a name for themselves as anything other than as representatives of the jedi order.

but of COURSE it makes sense that the galaxy would be obsessed with them. a mysterious group of wizards who use flashy swords and make peace through persuasive words and heroic deeds? of course people wrote books about them, watched shows about them, adults gossiped about them, and kids pretended to be them when playing. so the question of how all that knowledge was wiped away within a generation is a good one, and the comic presents a good answer:

(Star Wars: Crimson Reign #3 - The Archivist)

the earnest goodness of the jedi comes across to many as sanctimonious. they're too responsible with their power, too cool and restrained. they don't lash out with anger on behalf of those they love, you know? they don't smile enough, too serious. they're seen as the embodiment of "we have food at home" energy. the reality of the canonical order as gentle and joyful, surprisingly playful and open, isn't sexy enough to redeem their moral authority.

based on my inbox and the way people respond to some of my posts about the jedi, the resentment that this engenders in the population of the GFFA feels very real. there is actual HATRED directed toward this fictional group, irrational and out of all proportion. the comic suggests that people jump to hate those who make them feel guilty and self-conscious, because lashing out absolves yourself of confronting the reason you secretly know you'd be judged and found wanting, and that seems accurate.

i would insert a thousand examples here of the jedi not deserving this reputation, but the canon behavior of the jedi doesn't matter, the galaxy cheered as they died anyway and lots of fans love to hate on them. the mere concept of them and their philosophy is enough to alienate people, and i think that's a shame, but understandable. i'll love them enough to make up for it haha

[falsemilkbun]

I have so many feelings about this sad dusty little pigeon. God. Let me count the ways. This isn't Smart Meta, I have been doing too much tourist season work to be smart. All this is is aaaaa wife! ;~;

Like, that these are images of the same person and there's a continuity between them is so good and tasty and important. To me.

ETA: William this literally spoils the ending GTFO

I think a lot about how there's this throughline of palatability and consumability with Mithrun, so to speak. He spends his younger days making himself palatable and bubbly and friendly and perfect for everyone around him, all the while being a bundle of resentment and inferiority under that surface presentation.

And it works, he's beloved by everybody but Milsiril, who is more demonstrative about her negative feelings and finds his chipperness and sociability unsettling and annoying. She only starts to feel for him when she sees the dungeon he's built, because it's the first real exterior manifestation of his pain that's been revealed to her. And his inferiority is pain; his status and the fact he's loved at all is so intensely tied to his appearance and his presentation, and by that token it's completely conditional and he knows that. His greatest desire was a reality in which he could trust no one would (one assumes just emotonally) hurt him.

His drive is to be loved safely and completely, and it's ultimately a self-destructive drive that doesn't disappear when his desire and motivation are taken from him. What he wants, which isn't apparent to him for some time, is to be completely consumed. He wants to not have been discarded.

Like, there's definitely rage with his demon obsession. He is angry, but it's more complicated than simple anger at what was done to him. The parts where he's angry are sandwiched between parts where he's expressing all this insecurity, all this yearning to be fully consumed and fully loved. The fact that he wasn't makes him think of and describe himself as literal garbage.

So much of his scary forward momentum comes from what amounts to heartbreak and self-hatred. He was smothering in pressure and inferiority, and that made him vulnerable to someonething that offered him an escape only to gradually and then suddenly eat him alive. That maimed and disabled him, that purposely stripped him of the features that people valued him for. That ate the Good Parts and left the rest, which is most of him.

I don't know. Except I do. This is kind of a doodle/sketch of a smarter meta post I want to do eventually.

They're the same. There's continuity. To me. That feels important. I don't jibe with thinking of them as distinct, or with the idea that what happened fixed or matured him somehow. He's in the exact same kind of pain the whole time, it just depends whether he registers it or not.

And of course my pairing agenda is involved, because Kabru is kind and patient with him and ties stupid little bows in his clothes and doesn't really ask anything of him. And doesn't believe he's incapable of sleeping with magic or drugs. And doesn't believe he's incapable of feeling or growing or living a worthwhile life. Kabru doesn't believe he's garbage.

[hailturinturambar]

A Dark Obsession: Sauron and Galadriel's relationship

This analysis is not thought of in romantic or sentimental terms. But it seeks to understand how such opposite beings, separated by light and darkness, are able to coexist and even understand each other's deepest ambitions.

And to understand how this thread of darkness tied the destinies of Galadriel and Sauron, we need to remember how it all began. Or rather, who they were at the beginning of time when the world was young and there were no names for death.

When the world was young and the Valar ruled Arda, Melkor, who would become Morgoth, destroyed the peace in Middle-earth and Valinor, causing the destruction of the Two Trees.

With the help of Ungoliant, Morgoth darkened Valinor and the Valar despaired. With his servants, Morgoth returned to Middle-earth and brought pain and suffering to Elves and Men.

Galadriel was right. The Elves knew no words for death. The days in Valinor were golden and filled with good fortune, despite the malice of Morgoth. In the beginning, there was greater harmony. But, enraged by the loss of peace in their home, the Elves set out from Middle-earth in many companies. And Galadriel's family was present at the great pilgrimage.

The prophecy of Mandos was spoken, and sorrow and grief accompanied the journey of the Elves until the end of days. While Galadriel and the House of Finarfin fought against the forces of Melkor, Morgoth plotted in the darkness. And he was aided by his servants, and the worst of these was Sauron, his greatest lieutenant.

Like many elves in Middle-earth, Galadriel fought valiantly against the advance of evil and the forces of Morgoth. She was the sister of Finrod Felagund, mighty in wisdom and power.

Finrod ruled the elves while he fought against the enemies of the shadows. But even the mighty fall. And this moment defined, in the context of the show, the rest of Galadriel's days.

Marked by loss and grief, Galadriel realizes that she cannot live in peace until the last enemy has fallen at her feet. Morgoth has been destroyed, but Sauron, now greater and more terrible, stands ready to doom Middle-earth. Finrod's task becomes hers. It is her destiny to destroy those who condemned her brother to the cold and lonely halls of Mandos.

However, when anger and resentment remain attached to our souls, spirits and minds for too long, we become a little of what we seek to destroy. Hatred consumes even the noblest light. And Galadriel takes a path she had not foreseen when she decided to hunt Sauron and the evil he created. Who hunts whom now?

By the irony of the Valar or fate, Galadriel spent ages hunting Sauron, facing the furious weather in Helcaraxë and with nothing in her heart but revenge, Sauron was without fair form and struggling to survive in the depths of Middle-earth. The more you hate something, the more you attract it into your life, indeed.

Galadriel is alone on her journey, the elves are tired and weary. Ages have passed and Sauron has disappeared, there is no longer any reason to suffer a pointless search. Galadriel is forced to return to Lindon and abandon her pride. But is this enough for her?

No, I don't think so. Galadriel is a fighter, forged in steel and grief, after so many ages of fighting Morgoth and Sauron. She is unable to stop, she cannot stop. Her body and mind know only one path, revenge. Perhaps, because when the stars shine in the sky and the world sleeps, she is unable to move on until those she has lost see the sun rise once more.

Gil-galad senses the darkness slowly overflowing Galadriel's spirit. Hatred can be intoxicating until it becomes impossible to live without. She must now depart for Valinor and live in peace, a reward for her years of toil and hope of destroying Sauron.

The disagreement between Galadriel and Elrond, in my view, is the first sign of how the evil born of revenge is beginning to infiltrate Galadriel's mind, clouding the reason and light of her thoughts.

Elrond is wise and understands the suffering of Gladriel, his dearest friend, but he still realizes that this task will only cause more pain. He must convince Galadriel to give up her pursuit.

"Then why is it not gone from in here?"

It's a powerful scene. Galadriel touches her chest, her heart as she speaks passionately about what she's feeling. She couldn't let go of the hatred in her heart, could she? Evil can't let go of Galadriel's heart. Because this evil is not Sauron, this evil is her own desire for ruin and destruction against her tormentor.

This thought, however, is dangerous, since Melkor himself felt this way when faced with the punishments of the Valar.

Honestly, Galadriel's words to Elrond don't sit well with me. Doesn't he know the evil she has seen? This is vile, Galadriel. If we look back at Elrond's past, he has seen enough evil. The evil that has befallen his family, his people, himself.

But Galadriel is too blind to understand that many have suffered in Middle-earth, just as she has. Unlike them, she is trapped in the past. Leaving for Valinor is no gift to her. Not when she has lost so much, when she has suffered so much. Not when she has been given the pleasure of beholding again the beauty of the land of the Valar while the dead live in darkness.

It is not pride alone that compels Galadriel to abandon ship, but her own suffering. Ulmo, have mercy on her, for the waters of Arda are bearing her to meet the being who has caused her greatest grief.

Adrift at sea, Galadriel is taken to a group of shipwrecked people and that is when her path and Sauron's path meet again. Did he know who she was? I would say yes. Sauron knew his enemies, those who hunted him. After all, he killed her brother, how could he not know? Surely he felt a perverse pleasure in knowing that she would never recognize him.

Sauron is the Great Deceiver and this is his moment to entangle Galadriel in his plots. Sauron knows lies and nothing else, so Halbrand is there to test our minds. He is not Sauron at first glance, just a man. And he is as he weaves his deception.

There's a suspicious voice in my head, and it's asking to be heard. Honestly, when I first watched the first season, nothing about Halbrand really bothered me at first, but now I see things differently. So, let's talk about the worm.

In the prologue of the second season, we have the ship with the men of Middle-earth who are leaving in search of a better future, Númenor, perhaps. Sauron is with them when the worm attacks the ship. But, Sauron survives the attack of the creature. Even though it comes towards him in blind fury, it does not harm him.

So this quote right here will define what I'm saying here:

"Sauron was become now a sorcerer of dreadful power, master of shadows and of phantoms, foul in wisdom, cruel in strength, misshaping what he touched, twisting what he ruled, lord of werewolves; his dominion was torment. He took Minas Tirith by assault, for a dark cloud of fear fell upon those that defended it; and Orodreth was driven out, and fled to Nargothrond."

― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion

Sauron knew Galadriel's family and, most importantly, he commanded the beasts of Middle-earth. I understand then that the worm did not attack him for that reason. But why would the worm attack a second time, right where Sauron was?

I don't believe Sauron planned the second attack, not at first. However, when Galadriel comes to the shipwreck and he recognizes her, I suspect this plan has formed in his mind. All the mortals on the ship die, leaving only Galadriel and Halbrand. He is alone with her and can spill his lies.

Sauron, did you call the worm to be part of your great deception? I bet you did.

Were all of Sauron's actions evil? It is very difficult to say. Sauron did indeed repent when Morgoth was defeated, but he did not follow the Valar's will and fled to Middle-earth. However, this proves that he can repent, but that he simply refuses to do so.

So he could also do good, but he chooses not to. With Sauron, there are no right answers. His deception is too strong to affirm or deny. Still, he saved Galadriel and that changed the course of their journey.

There is a point during the time that Sauron and Galadriel are adrift that generates a lot of mixed opinions. Sauron was apparently vulnerable and letting his grief show. I believe he was, in part, vulnerable. Not because he was romantically interested, after all, they barely knew each other for that. But because his entire life had been turned upside down.

Sauron spent eons formless and wandering in the depths of the earth, bereft of his kingdom and his power. It is to be expected that he would be vulnerable. But, as I have already analyzed about Sauron and Adar/Galadriel/Celebrimbor, even when Sauron is being honest, he is being honest through lies that allow him to achieve his goals.

And now Sauron and Galadriel have arrived in Númenor. Was it at this point that Sauron considered destroying the people of Númenor? It is emphasized in the books that Sauron feared the people of Númenor because they could rival him in strength and power. They were a threat, and Sauron meets his threats with the same strategy. He destroys them.

Something I find very interesting about Sauron's character is how he shapes the desires of those around him. As Celebrimbor said in season two, Sauron plants ideas in your mind and makes you believe that those ideas were always yours. He does this with Galadriel.

Sauron regretted at first, but he did not return to Valinor and atone for his sins. Why would he be otherwise now? As much as I love the idea of ​​Halbrand in Númenor, I am not blind to the fact that he did not exist. Could Sauron have stayed in Númenor and lived as a mortal? I doubt it. His thirst for power, his desire to rule, to heal Middle-earth, would have grown stronger in time.

And in my view, Sauron has been doing reverse psychology with Galadriel. When he says he wants peace for himself, that he wants to stay in Númenor and start over, it is not how he would have her understand it. As a mortal man. But when Galadriel sees it that way, she despairs. She wants him to fight with her against Sauron, against the evil that has also hurt him, as it has hurt her.

Galadriel has spent eons without her husband, whom she loved so much and lost in the war against Sauron, she has lost her family, and her friends believe she is becoming the evil she hunts. Halbrand is her salvation.

And Sauron's refusal only increases her efforts. That's his big deception, isn't it? Pretending you don't want something, just to get it without having to be honest.

When Galadriel fights the boys, Halbrand watches. Was he watching as an enemy? Honestly, I don't think so. I believe that once he realized that she trusted him and was following his plans, she was no longer a target for his malice. His demonstration with the sword incited her doubts, fueling her belief that he is the lost king.

But he keeps refusing, he keeps denying that he wants to leave for Middle-earth. Galadriel and Halbrand are in conflict, Míriel allowed the sending of the ships and will help the people of Middle-earth. But the king of the mortal people refuses to leave. Galadriel tries to convince Halbrand, but she did not foreshadow that conversation.

Behind all the deceit and perversion, I would say this was Sauron's most sincere moment. Wearing Halbrand's skin, he talks about the evil he has done, the suffering he has endured. And Galadriel understands him and feels sorry for him. Sauron knows it is only because she does not know his true face. Sauron is doomed to be accepted only when he assumes a form to please/deceive others. Morgoth, Galadriel, Mirdania, Celebrimbor.

Galadriel will not stop fighting, she is incapable of it. She will leave without Halbrand if necessary. Is Sauron compelled to leave? No. He uses Galadriel's insistence as a way to further guilt her, I will delve deeper into this shortly. I suspect he left because he could not resist the temptation to heal Middle-earth. If Sauron were capable of love, he would love Middle-earth. But it is a dirty, twisted love, born of malice in search of corrupted good.

And Sauron can finally take revenge on Adar. Sauron and Galadriel are ready to fight the Orcs. Galadriel confronts Adar head on and this moment changes many things in her. I believe that at this moment, she understood how anger and revenge were condemning her soul, contaminating it. And she wants to repair this mistake.

Then we have the conversation between Halbrand and Galadriel after Adar's interrogation. In his twisted and deceitful way, I believe that Sauron saw Galadriel as his equal.

A powerful being who could stand by his side in healing Middle-earth, as he stood by Morgoth, partners. She could be his salvation, as he was hers. The problem with the fantasy idea of ​​salvation is that it often comes with deceit and despair.

Adar's final attack either foils Sauron's plans or not. Halbrand's wound is indeed a chef's kiss. Was he really hurt, or was it just an illusion? It's hard to say. But I'm sure he planned for his vulnerability to bring him closer to Galadriel. And indeed it did, when she took a mortal man to an elven kingdom, only for him to survive.

Galadriel has grown attached to Halbrand. He has seen the darkness in her and has not been frightened or rejected her, as she thought others had done. Halbrand ends up becoming her only ally.

Did Sauron expect Galadriel to fight him in Eregion? No, I don't think so. The two of them set off for the Elven realm, and Halbrand receives the help he needs. He is in the right place to achieve his ultimate goals. And Celebrimbor is within his reach.

That's how a third act in a play ends, isn't it? Halbrand's mask hasn't slipped. Sauron is just slipping into his lies because he's too confident to be careful. And who knows, maybe deep down he believes Galadriel really will follow him.

Celebrimbor was the deciding factor in Galadriel's unraveling. Galadriel was already wary of Halbrand in Eregion, who after his healing became very close to the forge and Celebrimbor, but I think she continued to deny the truth to herself. Refusing to see what was before her eyes.

Celebrimbor's words, however, cannot be a mistake. Adar spoke these very words to her. Words that Sauron spoke to him. Words that could only have been spoken to Celebrimbor through Halbrand. Seeking the lineage of the kings of Middle-earth is her last attempt to trust that Halbrand was honest, and it is all a mistake.

Halbrand seems different now, his words don't ring true and Galadriel notices the difference. She has spent weeks at Halbrand's side. She doesn't recognize this man.

"I will never forget that. And I'll see to it that no one else does either."

The words I said I would elaborate on later. Is Sauron grateful that Galadriel saved him? That's not the point here, but rather the guilt he places on her shoulders. Galadriel helped Sauron return, gave him the confidence and strength to fight in Middle-earth, at least that's what he wants her to believe. He would do all these things with or without her. But guilt is an aphrodisiac and once it sets in it's hard to fight.

The masks have fallen and Sauron no longer needs to lie. But did he really lie? He told Galadriel that he found the crest on a dead man, he was truthful. He said he was not the king she expected, true. He said he had done evil, true again. The problem with Sauron's honesty is that it is never total. He is truthful through the lies that will benefit him.

Sauron was surprised by Galadriel's refusal to stand by his side, indeed. I imagine he had not expected it. He had glimpsed the darkness in her, and had certainly expected her to yield. Could this be the point of no return?

In a final attempt, Sauron tests Galadriel's barriers. He speaks to her with the face of Finrod, who died by his hand. How did he think this would work? But the distorted image does not soften Galadriel, it strengthens her, so he tries again.

He takes her to the sea where they were adrift together, where they met and she began, even if unknowingly, to trust him. That vision has the opposite effect. It tarnishes the memory, distorts all events. Sauron then appeals to Galadriel's desire for power.

Gandalf was right, Sauron does not share power. But he can use this to convince Galadriel, even though they would not be equal in power. She could be strong at his side, feared and revered. The real manipulation is to claim that he would not be so dark with her by his side. It is too much of a burden for her to bear.

Galadriel's refusal infuriates Sauron. As discussed before, he does not take rejection well. And if Galadriel will not be by his side, he will destroy her in return. Galadriel is strong enough to escape, and Sauron is now far away.

All that remains is the weight of his lies and the void he left behind. Galadriel has been deceived by the one she pursued for so long, and she will have to deal with the consequences.

Galadriel's rejection begins Sauron's dark obsession with her.

In the second season, Galadriel and Sauron are estranged not only physically, but mentally. Sauron's lie still burns deep within her. While Sauron is in Adar's camp planning his new deception, Galadriel pursues Elrond.

Elrond is devastated. He has seen the worst of the Silmarils' effects and how obsession can hurt so many. After discovering that Galadriel deliberately lied to him, he sets out from Eregion with the Three Elven Rings to warn Gil-galad.

Gil-galad is furious, and rightly so. In her desperate quest to destroy Sauron, Galadriel has allowed the enemy to draw near. Are the rings the elves' salvation or their destruction?

Elrond and Galadriel, friends for centuries, are on opposing sides. Gil-galad knows that Celebrimbor must be warned immediately, while he discovers whether the rings have been corrupted. Elrond, however, leaves with them.

Galadriel disregards Gil-galad's orders countless times and he continues to trust her. He knows that she would never help Sauron if she knew, that she would not use the rings for his purposes. While they search for Elrond, Sauron arrives in Eregion and Celebrimbor is the new victim of his lies.

Sauron isolates Celebrimbor from the Elves, but he does not banish Galadriel from his mind. He pursues her, trying her strength, trying her darkness. The sight of Celebrimbor stirs the guilt she feels.

Galadriel fears that she is responsible for Sauron's return, and Sauron exploits this. Celebrimbor's death would be at her hands, he practically says, as he calls her name, preventing her from moving away from his power.

Gil-galad tries tirelessly to open Galadriel's eyes, to dispel the idea that Halbrand ever existed. No matter how justly he used it, he was always Sauron, her enemy.

Elrond, however, is too hurt to be fair. He fears what the rings might do, he has been through it before and he still suffers from it. Galadriel turns to her friend once more, wanting his support, his help, for someone to take the burden of guilt off her shoulders.

She fears giving in to Sauron once more, being seduced by his words and promises. She feels used and needs help to resist temptation, she knows that Sauron has not forgotten her. Elrond confronts her, he does not trust her, he fears that she will give in to Sauron once more. In Elrond's mind, if Galadriel does not refuse to wear the rings, then Sauron never abandoned her.

Did Sauron think of Galadriel in Eregion? I bet he did. She rejected him, scorned his promises, and resisted his power. He will not rest until she is as corrupted as he is. And Mirdania certainly reminded him of Galadriel. Deceiving Mirdania is fun, because he remembers Galadriel and how she escaped his deception.

In Eregion, Sauron is definitely busy. To forge the rings, he needs to corrupt each of them with his power, his malice, as he cannot with the Elven Rings. Galadriel was right, he did not corrupt them, and so he desired them all the more.

To prevent Sauron's plans, Galadriel sets out with Elrond and the elves of Gil-galad. It is not, however, an easy journey. Elrond is being harsh but fair with her. He fears for her and is resentful and above all, he is afraid of the rings. I do not believe that Elrond was angry with her, not out of malice. But rather out of fear of this new power.

But Galadriel is also hurt. She resents herself for trusting Sauron, for still thinking of him in part as Halbrand. It is frightening to accept the truth. She suffers from guilt and from being judged by everyone. She suffers, most of all, from having been deceived by Sauron.

Galadriel’s grief grows as she journeys, accepting that her hands are stained with blood, because evil drove them into the forest and Sauron deceived them, or so she believes. For all the evil caused by Sauron, Galadriel blames herself. And she speaks to Elrond.

Because she is desperate for companionship, for someone who can understand her fears, as Halbrand used to. She fears that Sauron knows her mind and that he can rule them all. She begs Elrond to choose the world, above her, if it will defeat Sauron. She will only assuage her guilt by sacrificing herself.

The Orc attack leaves everyone unprepared. They are close to Eregion, confirming the elves' fear that Sauron is already in control of the city and Celebrimbor's mind. Is this the moment when Galadriel chooses to surrender? When there is nothing left to lose and she knows that if the ring falls into the hands of Adar or the Orcs, peace will be shaken in Middle-earth.

If obsession had a name, it would be Sauron.

The rings of the people of Khazad-dûm are ready and working, or so they think. Sauron is having results with his plan. He can control Durin III's mind, intoxicating him with his power, slowly corrupting him, but he needs more.

Men need Rings. If he cannot control the Elves, he will need as many peoples bowing at his feet as possible in Middle-earth. And he does indeed intend to recover the Three Elven Rings. And Galadriel is his gateway.

The funny thing is how obsessed Sauron has become with Galadriel. I would say rejection caused it. Sauron is in Eregion forging rings, following his plan, dominating Celebrimbor's mind, but still he is thinking about Galadriel. Why doesn't he forget? I don't think Sauron is used to being rejected.

He thinks of Galadriel when he looks at Mirdania, doesn't he? The blondness of her hair, her elvish features, her innocence about his true nature. It is like deceiving Galadriel all over again. But he feels successful with Mirdania, because she does not distrust him. She has not suffered at the hands of Sauron's malice as Galadriel has, and that's why Galadriel notices him, she's very distrust and be marked by darkness.

He didn't need to talk about Galadriel while he was trying to deceive Mirdania. There was no reason or purpose in his plans for it. But I believe it's because he was obsessed. Sauron was obsessed with many things, all related to those who rejected him. Adar and his army, Galadriel and the Elves. The more he is rejected, the more he thinks about those who rejected him.

And now Galadriel is in the hands of her greatest enemy and ally. Adar suspected Halbrand, and yet he allowed him to escape. Now he needs Galadriel's help and her ring to destroy Sauron.

Like Elrond, Adar forces Galadriel to confront the truth. How consumed she was by Sauron’s destruction, blinded by the vengeance in her heart that she could not even recognize the evil that lay before her.

And most of all, Adar understands the emptiness that Sauron’s deception leaves. When he fills you with promises and beautiful lies, encouraging your mind to believe him, to desire what he is offering, only to suffer when he betrays you.

Galadriel says she resisted Sauron, but did she? She rejected him, abandoned him, and thwarted his plans. But the power he offered, the possible healing of Middle-earth, stuck in her mind, seduced her, even if she would not admit it.

Galadriel has drunk the wine of Sauron's words, as Adar had drunk the wine offered by Sauron ages before. But Galadriel cannot bear to admit that he has almost convinced her, even to Adar.

And she does not know whether she can trust Adar, and his empty promises. Destroying Eregion in Sauron's place is a price she is not willing to pay. The destruction of her beloved elven kingdom cannot be the solution.

Galadriel had no idea how deep Sauron's plans and evil were. And how strong Adar's determination to destroy Sauron was. Lindon's army arrived to protect Eregion and prevent the Orcs from destroying all the beauty and goodness of those people.

Everyone is desperate. Sauron needs Celebrimbor to finish the rings while Eregion is under siege, and Elrond needs to convince Adar to withdraw his army. Scheming, Elrond helps Galadriel escape, and she sets out among the people of Adar, trying to deceive the Orcs.

In the trenches, Galadriel see Arondir. This is her moment of clarity. Arondir is blinded by revenge against Adar, seeking to cover the wound caused by the Uruk. Just as Galadriel was blinded by revenge against Sauron when she returned to Lindon, when she decided that she could not bear to live in Valinor as long as Sauron lived. Galadriel cannot allow Arondir to be tainted by darkness as she has been.

When Galadriel arrives in Eregion, I believe she finally understands who Sauron really is. Since the revelation, Halbrand has remained in her mind, Sauron a vision not quite real. But the destruction of Eregion changes all that, Celebrimbor's suffering changes that.

Did Galadriel suffer when she saw how Celebrimbor mutilated himself? I am sure she did. Her beloved friend is wounded, his kingdom destroyed, because of Sauron. So she blames herself. For having trusted Halbrand who is Sauron. For having led Sauron to Eregion. For not having resisted Sauron's temptation long enough.

The forging of new rings is the final straw. Galadriel understands Celebrimbor's guilt and will not rest until she has redeemed herself and her friend. She accepts the rings to take them far away, away from Sauron and his dominion. Just as she intends to escape his dominion.

This is the moment everyone has been waiting for. Galadriel has not encountered Sauron since his revelation, and she knows she cannot escape him forever. When she is taken to Adar, she struggles to believe that together they can right the wrongs of Sauron and the Orcs.

Galadriel is tired of fighting Sauron, as Adar was tired, as Celebrimbor was tired. So many ages of war and revenge have consumed her completely and she believes in Adar, she has no choice but to trust him.

Meeting Sauron again is a painful surprise. There he is, the evil of Middle-earth, the Dark Lord, the destroyer of Eregion and the bane of Elves and Men. But behind those words, she had once known him as Halbrand. The contrast between Halbrand and Annatar must have hurt Galadriel deeply.

Sauron fights not only Galadriel's body, but her mind, her spirit. He is ruthless in his attacks, attacking without mercy. But it is Sauron's words that cut deepest, the illusions he forces Galadriel to endure.

She can either follow Sauron and save Middle-earth, or she can be destroyed by him if she rejects him again. Worst of all, Sauron actually believes his words. That he would make Galadriel his queen to be fair, that they could save Middle-earth, that they could bring peace.

There is no salvation for Sauron, and he cannot fulfill any of his twisted promises. And Galadriel no longer believes in his illusions, even though to Sauron, they were real. His own truth.

Sauron says he doesn't want to hurt Galadriel, and I believe that's true. Just as he didn't want to hurt Celebrimbor. But he manipulates and betrays and doesn't accept when others abandon him, so he feels forced to hurt his opponents.

Sauron is as Celebrimbor said. The Great Deceiver who is able to deceive himself.

The Halbrand that Galadriel knew has changed and only Sauron remains. Galadriel, however, has also changed. She recognizes the pull of darkness, but she has changed. She is no longer the elf who fled Valinor and lied to Elrond, who defied Gil-galad. Galadriel is stronger and she will no longer let Sauron enter her mind. The mind he knew is gone.

"The door is still open." "The door is shut."

Sauron understands that despite all his attempts, despite all his deceptions, he will no longer be able to entice Galadriel, because she refuses his advances. Galadriel chooses death instead of him, to protect the elves, to protect her mind from him.

Sauron is once again alone and rejected, accompanied only by his power and ambition.

Did Tolkien ever consider Sauron to be obsessed with Galadriel's light? Galadriel has always been a strong opponent, great in power and light. Mighty in mind and wisdom. She would be an even better ally.

"I say to you Frodo that even as I speak to you I perceive the Dark Lord and know his mind, or all of his mind that concerns elves, and he gropes ever to see me and my thought but still the door is closed."

― J.R.R. Tolkien, The fellowship of the ring

Sauron is doomed to corrupt everything he touches and remain alone. He will never have Galadriel's mind to control and corrupt, because she knows his mind. And because she is stronger than the darkness in him, her light will continue to repel Sauron's advances throughout the ages.

And Sauron's obsession with Galadriel will never end. Wanting to know her mind, as she knows his, and as he once knew hers. Wanting to corrupt her light and turn her to his side. Wanting to convince her mind that his path is the only path.

Last words: Remember what I said a few days ago. This analysis is not romantic, mine are not and never will be. Everyone has their own opinion and way of understanding the show. And this is mine. Don't waste your time hating different views and couples. Let's take advantage and share our thoughts in harmony. Because this analysis is how I see the dynamics of Galadriel and Sauron, not yours, nor anyone else's, just mine.

And I don't even want to attack anyone with the analysis, so there's no reason to be attacked either. This fandom already has enough hate, the world already has enough hate. Let's be kind to each other! :)

[nuumbie]

KARMA’S A DOG.

Prompt: You’re a prized worker at the IPC Marketing Department. You spend your days waiting for that flash of black.

Trigger Warning: Reader is mentally ill and a little shit head. Curse Words. General Violent Terms and Reader Gets Ragdolled. Boothill is NOT into you!!! He actually hates you! Guilt! Etc, etc… it’s just all hurt no comfort.

Author’s Note: Written to celebrate his trailer. Save a horse. Ride a cowboy. Contains spoilers regarding his character story.

He’s resting peacefully. This should still count as sleep. You pose the question in your head if you replace the pieces of something, how far until the thing is something else entirely. But he’s still alive. You find relish in that. There’s something in him that still lives.

He still has his head. Maybe, that’s all he has left of his old self. You wonder how the surgery must have gone. Of course you’ve met people who’ve changed themselves so drastically with robotics that you couldn’t recognize them after the surgeries. It’s a rebirth in ways. When you change so dramatically that you’re a different person by the end. His body’s 90% metal. 10% flesh. So, wouldn’t it be the cybernetics that win?

Despite everything. You don’t think so. Perhaps, that’s all that he needs. I think therefore I am. There’s no doubt he’s alive. Not to you, anyway. He’s brimming with human life. He’s more alive than you. Not in the same way where the question poses in your mind with other beings or creatures that change themselves so drastically. Boothill is obstinately simple.

You like that. He’s simple. The Hunt and those that follow it is straight forward. A single path. A single road. You like that you don’t have to read his intentions. You know what he wants and why.

Boothill. Galaxy Ranger. IPC Hunter. The Man who just tried to sneak into your office and put a bullet through your head like he has with many of your employees, those who’ve worked directly under you no less. You know. Most criminals don’t get this far. Not far at all past Pier Point. Oswaldo will have a riot.

If he knew he would. You’re not going to tell him.

Boothill is special.

The cowboy opens his eyes. Your personal grim reaper.

“I see you’re awake.” You smile in a loving way. If you can even manage that. People who can control their expressions make it seem so easy. Laying across his chest. You’ve opened up his core to play with his inner circuits. He must not like that though considering there’s a burning hatred in his eyes which threatens to scorch you. You glance up towards his face and sigh and ignoring the lingering, simmering, resentment. His body is heating up beneath your touch. So, maybe it resonates with his feelings, you wonder if his body steams. “We need to stop meeting like this. You’re going to make me think you’re obsessed with me.”

It’s the opposite way around. You know that. But the very idea that it isn’t causes him to lunge at you. The cowboy turns into nothing more than a blur, all the wires connected to the body collecting samples that took at least a good thirty minutes pulled from him. Some ripped from the walls, and in instants he’s on you.

“You dang—“ his hands make its way to your shoulders, you’re flipped without hesitation. his hands grasping you down, he lays on top of you. breath heavy. robots don’t breathe, though, so you try to think of another word as he catches himself and tries to make it so he’s the one on top. “— you again!?”

“I’ve been meaning to get my hands on you… you oughta’… you ANGEL!” He screeches. Music to your ears as he shakes you more like you’re more ragdoll than person. “AEONS, it’s so freaking annoying! You absolute delight! How did I lose to…”

“Thank you so much for the compliment.” You smile back. Probably the only one getting anything out of this arrangement. Pinned against the floor hand pressed tightly against your waist so you can’t struggle. He should’ve pressed it against your mouth. But it isn’t like you’re going to scream. You’re certain. Lots of women would love to be in this position you’re currently in. But it’s you. And this is far from some sweet, pure, little romantic story. You’re not delusional. You act like you are purely because it annoys him. It’s good for him to build up his rage, his discontentment because it keeps him on his toes. “I was just looking over your upgrades since the last time you invaded Pier Point. As for asking how I beat you~…”

“The electronic upgrade was not the best idea.” You smile. “If we can control your language… your body isn’t hard especially for a renowned genius like me. Have to talk to your doctor about that. You’re lucky I’m the one that found you. Where’s my thanks? If it was anyone else. They’d have torn you asunder.”

“Aeons of COURSE you Market-Phonies have something to annoy the DANGNATION out of me.” he grinds his teeth, looking around for his pistol. making a point about how dead he wants you. you can feel his grip loosen and tighten. he’s likely processing which one would get you to be quieter. “Where’d you put it? My gun. I’ve decided. I’m killing you now. Puttin’ ya out of your misery, sweet-face! You think this is rough? Think of a 9mm lead in your skull will be?”

“Cabinet.” You put on your best smile. “Is it for me?”

“Of course for you. Love you.” You didn’t take away his ability to say hate. So, he must have said something worse like an insult. You just know it’s bad because he says it in a way that’s so vitriolic it almost hurts. “You knew this was coming. I’m not going to miss my shot again. You should’ve killed me when you had the chance.”

You did know it was coming. You wished he would get the one person above you first so you could witness your boss with his brains blown out, the outcries that an Emanator of Qlipoth killed. You could have gotten wine with Diamond and laughed about it and died happy knowing the world was washed clean forever of Oswaldo Schneider.

But you can’t be so lucky. You’ll have to wish him luck. If he actually manages to kill you that is. With how things are going? You’re not making it hard.

He grabs you by the neck so you can’t struggle away to call help. The iron hands encased over your neck like a shackle isn’t a bad feeling. You almost quote as such so he might grab you a little tighter. Sadly, it seems his finger is directly over your windpipe— making talking an impossibility. He really doesn’t want you to run. Not like you would. Dragging you as he goes towards the cabinet. He presses you against the wall one-handed.

Using his other hand to peruse through your belongings. Even if you struggled. You doubt you could make a dent against the material. You’ve always been more of a pen instead of a sword guy.

It seems he’s smarter than you thought. Since, he checks the bullets in the gun. Rather show-offishly, too. He clicks the trigger against your head and nothing comes out. He counts them out, too. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6.

You already knew that none of the shots would ring. But here’s a certain heart-pounding feeling even if you know it’s empty. He clutches the gun even tighter till it threatens to break between his metal appendages.

Obviously, you’ve cleaned them out. He glares at you. Of course you’re the one at fault. Of course you were smart enough to know the first thing he’d do when he woke up was try to kill you. Of course you wanted to see the look on his face when he got his gun back when he realized it was empty. “Don’t you have spares? You eat them, don’t you? Just shit them out.” You smile. It’s hard to talk with his hand on your throat.

The floor hits you. Hard.

Or maybe you hit the floor.

Either way. It hurts. Your head spins. But, you collect yourself. Maybe. Dizzy people often can’t tell they’re dizzy. “You going to kill me right? You don’t need a gun to do that. To make it painful. To get your little revenge.” You’re sputtering. Aeons. It be embarrassing if you didn’t say that. If you’re slurring. Though who are you to ask for a clean death? Innocent have died in uglier ways.

“I don’t get you.” Boothil’s boot presses against your chest and juts against your lungs— “make up your mind you wanna die or not? You’re seriously flip-flopping.”

You smile back at him from the floor. “I’d rather my employees not go down with me when you’ve got to escape. Jeremy just got a promotion. You won’t die here… will you space cowboy? So, you’ll have to make your way out.”

“Might as well limit the casualties.”

“You took everything from me.” Robots don’t stumble over their words. Robots are more precise. Everything about him is human. The way he’s so sentimental, emotional at your lap, while you can do nothing but watch. “What right do you have? You have way more blood on your hands than I do.”

“You’re not wrong.” you repeat, quietly. “It’s karma. It’s justice. I’m so happy you exist. So people like me get that just-dessert.”

“I could never ever dream of it. I could never do it with my own hands.” You smile remembering where you work. Your boss. The things you never had the confidence or strength to do yourself. “So I’m glad that you did. Thank you.”

He looks down at you.

He steps back.

You already know.

Too self-aware for your own good.

Maybe you should have shut up. You already know you’ve messed it all up. The way he looks at you is a look of disgust.

“Everyone here’s so fluffed up.” he grimaces. rubbing his shoe against the floor like he’s snuffing a cigarette out. so lowly. “Anyone the IPC touches get’s gosh-dang ruined.”

You know why he did. You ruined his life. You did. So, it was only fair he did the same in return—

Reaching out— before you realize it. “Hey, wait.”

“You’re not dragging me down with you! I want you to pay I’m not letting you off easy. When we meet again. I’ll have changed this place forever. And you’ll be forced to live with yourself…!”

He doesn’t even look back at you. You wish he did.

He lets you go and he runs out the door. You hear the sounds of loud screams. Shooting guns. It turns into a blur after a few seconds. They’re going to fail to apprehend him. You hope.

On the messy floor. Your lab a wreak. You’re sure. They’ll come here. They’ll question you.

And your life will continue as always.

You’ll lie. Jade can tell. But she won’t tell on you. You hope Oswaldo doesn’t notice. He’s the tricker. If he knew. He’d laugh.

“Fuck you, too.”

You put your hands over your eyes and you just ignore everything until someone comes and gets you. You’d use the word save. But, that’s what he was meant to do.

You’ll meet him again. You can wait. It’s all you ever do.

[siriusblackdevotee]

Aplphard x siirus pretty pretty pleaseeee

Tw: incest, grooming, child neglect (?), light/implied sexual content (?)

for a bit of context? Not sure if this is necessary or not, but the first few Sirius-centric or Black family-centric fics I read had borderline or genuine casual incestuous relationships going on, and with Sirius written as the perfect creation, the literal purpose of his family's in-breeding, so everyone was a little bit in love with him? Weirdly obsessed? Well not everyone, I mean Narcissa, Walburga, his aunt (?), Bellatrix (?), they were all just casually talking about fucking him, which, cool🧍‍♀️and besides that, one of those fics included Sirius thinking Alphard was different like him, but then eventually getting betrayed later when he realizes Alphard is like the rest of them (Alphard was also a sexual assault victim, to his grandfather)...anyways, all that was branded in my brain, in a way. Here we go.

All this starts because Orion just, stops paying attention to him. Their relationship before was that Orion (and Walburga) were deeply infatuated with him, whatever Sirius did, he'd get compliments and praises, deserved or not. That stops when Sirius becomes incredibly outspoken with muggle equality, calling their traditional blood supremacy ways total bs. So Orion obviously hates this and just, completely ignores him, because he thinks Sirius is a lost cause. Walburga, unlike Orion, cannot ice him out completely, she's too in love with him for that. It's more like, she'd tell him he's the biggest disappointment of her flesh, then sends manually cut fruit into his room. So Sirius knows that Walburga still loves him, the proof is right there. The issue is his father, because he just never interacts with him anymore, despite living in the same room, despite seeing each other everyday at the same dining room.

so Sirius? Starved of affection from a father figure.

He'd get attached to any older man that shows him the smallest fraction of attention, except no one really does that. His own father wouldn't. His uncle Cygnus hates him because he's the heir, for being born a male while his kids were born females. However, Alphard..., that uncle was always nice to him.

Now Alphard. He didn't have the same cruelty as his siblings. He didn't have the irrational resentment Cygnus had for Sirius, he didn't have any reasons for any hatred because Sirius was just a kid, who had big things going for him that Alphard never wanted. And unlike his shitty siblings, Alphard was polite and nice. While Cygnus is mumbling about his one sided grudge against a child, Walburga complaining about her wayward child, Alphard just gave Sirius a bit of attention, spent time playing with the kid, and pretty much thought nothing of it.

That was all Alphard did, he never put in much effort but it was enough for Sirius to see Alphard in a different light, making Alphard his favorite. He goes from doing things to get Orion's attention to waiting for Alphard to come over so they could just talk. So he could feel good about himself because that's the effect Alphard naturally has on him.

How Alphard perceives Sirius changes when Sirius starts going through puberty stages. When he's growing out, he shoots up like an arrow, deeper voice, stronger jawline, losing his baby fat, just becoming more of a man. Everyone notices this, how the eldest son of Orion's was blooming, and he was doing it so prettily, growing into those perfect aristocratic features. It's a time when Sirius attends parties, all of his relatives and family friends were gushing to them about how tall he is, what a looker he became, how he looks so much like his beautiful mother or his handsome father....

This everyone included Alphard. He slowly stops seeing Sirius as just a kid, and starts seeing him as...well still a kid, but quite the gorgeous one. He starts genuinely paying attention to Sirius, he can't help it, Sirius knew how to attract all the eyes on him, unintentionally of course, but that's how he notices just how receptive Sirius is, an innocent blush to him just saying "boy" or the starstruck look he gets from the simplest praises. He notices how Sirius is only like this with him.

Sirius doesn't mean anything by it, Alphard knows that, but he sees this as Sirius offering himself anyways, and Alphard is not the good man to reject him

Sirius had become quite the rebel, refusing to participate in piano lessons (I couldn't think of anything, yes it's boring, leave me alone), and it was driving Walburga up the wall, because all her efforts to get him to learn ended as failures. As she was complaining to Alphard, getting her frustrations out, Alphard saw his chance and offered to tutor him instead. Walburga was a perceptive mother, she has long known how her son preferred the company of her brother, how Alphard became a soft spot for him, and knew Alphard would have an easier time correcting Sirius because Sirius would listen to him. She knew Alphard was quite skilled as well, though she was better, she made sure he was too. She knew Alphard was basically living a mundane life, that he had nothing to do, no wife, no kids, no responsibility as a family. He had free time. And frankly, she was more than willing to brush the responsibility of raising her son off her hands. Sirius had become a handful, too much for her even though she did love him. She knew he'd be in good hands, so she rests peacefully.

Not to mention, Sirius was ecstatic to hear how his favorite uncle would be coming over more often, just to spend time with him or to teach him, all the same to Sirius. It was a win-win situation for everyone involved.

Alphard builds it up. The smallest touches, pats on his head, a lingering hand on his shoulder, tucking stray healthy strands of hair behind his ear, waits for Sirius to get used to being so physical with his uncle, then moves up to touches they wouldn't be doing in public, resting his head on Sirius's shoulder, slipping a hand down the collar of his shirt, down to his chest, gripping the bottom of his jaw while pressing a thumb on those perfect virgin lips.

It was too easy for Alphard to pretend that the praises, the love bombing he sent off were genuine and natural, not at all planned so he could see how Sirius gets so pliant and soft around him. Pretend that his nicknames for Sirius, "dear boy", "darling boy", "my precious" were filled with pure affectionate intent, not to watch how Sirius turns into that lovely innocent red. Pretend that it was needed for him to leave lingering touches all over Sirius, hands on sides, lower back, nape, shoulders, just to correct his posture. Pretend he didn't have any impure intentions as he bent over the boy, resting his hands on the boy's, whispering instructions right on Sirius's ear. Pretend how he doesn't notice the hitch of Sirius's breath, the sweating, the nervous biting of his lips.

What really worked in carving a place for himself in Sirius's heart, was just listening to the boy. He could tell no one paid attention to him, neither Orion nor Walburga put aside some time to just listen to the boy's stories, not even Regulus. Just a few comments here and there on Sirius's latest shenanigans with his friends or even something so little as his charms essay was enough for the lonely boy to latch on to him, open up to him even more.

At some point, Sirius was sitting on the piano stool, focused on his playing when Alphard moved to stand behind the boy. He leaves a hand on Sirius's shoulders, takes notice of how that proud spine stiffens with the attention then melts, how Sirius so subtly leans towards his hand. Then he was moving the hand around his neck, under his jaw, used the smallest suggestive pressure to pull Sirius back but Sirius was so willing to let himself get pulled back that he was resting his head on Alphard's lower stomach. With his head titled up from Alphard's maneuvers, Alphard just looks down and sees his craving, the open affection, the vulnerability, the submission displayed all over his face and just knew, Sirius was his now, that Sirius would take anything Alphard gives him. Alphard didn't need much more than that to lean down and kiss him.

He plays off the kiss as a reward, the highest of rewards and Sirius is too trusting of him that he just takes those words at face value. The words rewires his brain. Originally he thought just his uncle's compliments, names of endearment and touches were enough but the kiss? It opened a whole new world for him, and he wants to explore all of it. Instead of hoping that his uncle would caress his face when he does such a good job, he's left hoping that Alphard would kiss him. Because that, to him, is the ultimate proof that Alphard was proud of him, well according to Alphard.

He was old enough to know that he shouldn't be kissing a man as old as Alphard, and especially not his uncle, but he's more besotted with Alphard to question it, again, too trusting.

Too sheltered to realize what was happening as their kisses grow deeper, filthier, what it meant as he's lured on Alphard's lap, until they're grinding and humping. All he knew was that it felt good, that he was wanted and loved.

And it was fun. When Walburga asks him how his piano lessons were going, it was fun to say it went well, that this time, uncle Alphard played on the piano and Sirius learned a lot, it was fun to pretend Sirius didn't actually just spend an hour on his knees between Alphard's legs, while he played on beautifully. Or bent over the piano, utterly naked and cold as Alphard took his time violating him, fondling his body parts, savoring him. It was fun to pretend at parties how Alphard touched him was familial and innocent, well Sirius thinks it was that too, but also not at all a signal for them to sneak off later.

It's the happiest time for Sirius because he's utterly spoiled, like how he used to be with his parents before they stopped liking him. He stopped talking with his father but with his mother, no matter how much he begged to have something, his mother adamantly refuses because a disobedient child like him doesn't deserve new and good things. So he gave up there. But with Alphard, all he needs to do is ask prettily. Though sometimes, Alphard does make him beg, but it's for a different reason. He asks once if Alphard could stay longer and then in the next moment, Alphard is moving to negotiate more tutoring hours with Walburga. He offhandedly mentions if they could spend more time together and the next day, Walburga is sending him off to his uncle's residence. Besides that, he was genuinely taken care of. After rolling around under Alphard's sheets, sweaty and naked, he could talk on and on about his interests, his day, his friends, anything, and Alphard would be right there, listening and engaging with him.

And of course..the abundance of pleasure and praises....

Anyways! Good things don't last for Sirius so! Nasty argument between him and his parents>he runs away to the potters>Alphard finds out only the next day when he comes over for the piano lessons>Walburga tells him everything>Alphard is upset with her>Walburga thinks he's grown to love Sirius like his own kid

...the end isn't important, I think. But anyways, Alphard does secretly do some snooping, some planning, finds where Sirius is and goes to the Potters. He's outside their doorstep, all the Potters incredibly suspicious of him, having heard from Sirius how awful his parents were but then Sirius is moving to immediately embrace the man and then they they see how at ease and familiar Sirius is with Alphard, how Alphard so clearly loves him and is concerned for him, so they leave the two of them alone, giving them privacy. So hungry and craving for each other, Alphard manages to come up with an excuse, that he has some of Sirius's stuff because Sirius didn't exactly pack before running away, so Sirius could come to collect them anytime he wanted. After informing the Potters, they immediately agree, not only for that reason, but they were sure Sirius sees him as some sort of parental figure so they send him off, telling him it was okay to spend the night, so they could spend more time with each other.

There is of course some stuff Sirius needed to bring back that Alphard made sure to collect from GP12, but really, they were only there so they could spend the entire night fucking.

But in the morning, they have an actual proper talk. Alphard lets him down gently, lets him know that they can't meet so much anymore with him as a disowned Black and Alphard still as a Black. And Sirius was surprised and hurt that his own mother took his name off the tapestry, but he was more hurt when Alphard drew a line. He understood though, he's not so selfish to make Alphard risk disownment but he still begged to see him more often.

As usual, Alphard folds. He talks to the Potters, ever so polite, pretended he was missing his favorite nephew, who he spent almost every day with, and was heartbroken to know that he family wouldn't allow him to visit, unless he risked disownment. Naturally, the Potters, the bleeding hearts they were, were more than willing to set aside time to send Sirius to his residence, and agreed to keep their meetings a complete secret.

The Potters were happy to know that there was at least one person in that household that truly cared for Sirius. They too, saw Alphard in a good light.

....but after a year of secret meetings, their little affair, Alphard dies! (There's no mysterious drama thing going on, he just dies) Just as Sirius turns 17. He doesn't even find out from any of his family contacting him, but from a lawyer on the Potter's doorstep because Alphard left all his gold to him. A lot of inheritance business.

.... inheritance...hm wait.

Okay, from there, to handle and finalize a lot of this bs, he has to get in contact with his family and that's how he reconnects with Walburga. Walburga is pissed that Alphard left so much of his gold to her absolutely undeserving son, she knows he had quite the affection for her son but to leave him all his gold? They probably hadn't even talked for a year! It made no sense and filled her with rage, to know so much of their precious gold went to her traitorous son.

She ends up talking shit about Alphard in front of Sirius, and Sirius just snaps at her. She in response, just asks a question, mindless, uncaring, a simple question. All she asked was why Sirius cared, after all, Sirius never cared to come crawling back or contact her, and he, to her knowledge, did the same for Alphard. Sirius should have no reason to be snappy.

And Sirius :> is grieving, just learned of his not-lover's death mere days ago, he's spiraling, and all he wants to do is to hurt his mother and he knows how. He confesses everything. He enjoys watching how his mother's face falls, turns disgusted, stricken, as he lovingly reminds her that every time she left Sirius and Alphard to be alone, Sirius was learning how to suck her brother's cock instead of anything to do with the piano, that every time she sent Sirius off to his residence, Sirius had to lay on his bed, tied up and naked and thoroughly fucked. He spared no details, utterly shameless and by the end of it, Walburga too, was spiraling.

There was nothing she could do. Up until a minute ago, she thought of her brother as naive, too affectionate, a bleeding heart, loving those that didn't deserve it, like her son. But now, to learn the monster he truly was...there was nothing she could do because Alphard was dead, he lived a life full of sin and never faced the repercussions, even now he lay in their precious graveyard, meant for the Blacks that truly deserved to lay there. He got away with it.

The dead is gone but her son is still alive, she probably tried to mend things again, or make Sirius see the truth but again, Sirius lovingly reminds her that Alphard, who truly loved him, would never blast off his name from the tapestry the way she did. He never gives a chance for Walburga.

Heartbroken, furious, Walburga has lost her son yet again. In a fit of rage, she blasts off her disgusting relative's name off the tapestry.

And without Alphard's grounding and distracting influence, Sirius does form doubts, Walburga's words, that Alphard took advantage of him, starts haunting his mind. But as much as he had those doubts, he was still in the firm belief that Alphard loved him.

He never did get to process that, going to Azkaban and all.