#the power and beauty she has is like on point!

[uisceb]

Okay I want to talk about this moment between Morrible and Glinda for a sec because it adds such a wonderfully sinister layer to a scene that is otherwise a triumphant defining moment for Elphaba, and it sets up the dynamics for Part 2 so perfectly.

At this point, we are in the thick of “Defying Gravity.” Everyone’s attention is on Elphaba - and rightfully so, she’s up there declaring war on the Wizard, displaying incredible feats of magic, of course everyone’s attention is on her.

…Everyone, except Morrible.

Morrible has realized that Plan A was a bust, but rather than panicking, she’s already worked over Plans B through Z in her head and has realized that Glinda, not Elphaba, is actually the key figure here. Glinda is actually the best thing that could have happened to them.

Mind you, Morrible hates Glinda. She thinks Glinda is vapid and attention-seeking and completely without talent. It would be extremely easy for her to brand Glinda as an accomplice to Elphaba, have the guards drag her off, imprison her, never have to deal with her again, nice and neat.

Instead, while everyone else is focused on Elphaba, Morrible only has eyes for Glinda. She zeroes in on her, releases her, and comforts her, because she understands what no one else understands, which is that yes, that’s great that the Wizard now has an enemy to unify his people against, but they also need a symbol of hope, something that is the exact antithesis to Elphaba, something to keep everyone at extremes. 

The Wizard himself can’t really be a symbol of hope, because the key to his success is that he remains shrouded in mystery, and yes people think he’s wonderful, but there’s a level of uncertainty and intimidation to him. He is Oz the Great and Terrible, and everyone’s preeeeeetty sure he’s a good guy, but if you have someone like Elphaba out there - who Morrible knows from experience is very smart, very articulate, and has her own sort of magnetism - there’s a potential that she could turn at least enough people against the Wizard to make things very inconvenient.

So what they need, now that they have an enemy, is to have an equally magnetic figurehead representing the Wizard who embodies all these one-dimensional ideas of goodness, someone for the public to adore and fawn over so the association between Wizard and Goodness is crystal clear.

And by bringing Glinda along, Elphaba has unknowingly served that figurehead up on a platter.

Glinda is everything Elphaba isn’t, from personality, to appearance - Morrible has already set Elphaba up by calling her green skin an “outward manifestorium of her twisted nature,” which paves the way for Glinda, who is the perfect conventional beauty, to be an “outward manifestorium” of pure goodness. 

Morrible realizes they need these two lightning rods of Absolute Evil and Absolute Good in order to manipulate people - fear alone isn’t enough; the only way to effectively radicalize the populace is to make sure there is no gray area whatsoever, no room for question: you're either good, or you’re evil. And the Wizard alone isn’t a strong enough representation of “goodness” when by virtue of existing, he has to remain in the shadows. Glinda on the other hand? With her looks and her charm and her openness and her ability to expertly win over a crowd? Perfect for the role.

Now the tricky part for Morrible is taking into consideration that Glinda and Elphaba love each other. But we also know from earlier scenes that Morrible is a master at manipulating emotions. Right from the start when Elphaba is having trouble with her magic, Morrible casually brings up the “Animals should be seen and not heard” disturbance from class, spoon-feeding her just enough to get Elphaba upset, triggering her magic, after which Morrible makes sure to give her assurance and praise to keep Elphaba optimistic about her power.

She’s also aware that Glinda does have quite a bit of influence over Elphaba, because when Elphaba flees, Morrible immediately tasks her with winning her over, rather than simply relying on the guards or even going after Elphaba herself. She knows if anyone has a chance at roping Elphaba back in, it's Glinda.

Obviously, Glinda isn’t successful in getting her back, but while this puts a dent in Morrible’s plans to get control of Elphaba, it does give her an extra weak spot to exploit in Glinda.

So now, at the height of “Defying Gravity” when Elphaba has officially taken her stand against them, Morrible sees Glinda, and Glinda is at her most vulnerable, her most emotionally fragile. Not only is she heartbroken and in shock, she’s also just witnessed in real time exactly how easy it is to turn an entire nation against someone. She’s scared, she’s powerless. She’s just lost the love of her life her only friend, she has no one to turn to - Morrible has definitely picked up on the fact that even though Glinda has countless people who fawn over her, none of them can be considered a true friend except for Elphaba, which means Glinda is completely isolated. Glinda also has a very limited understanding of the bigger picture of what the Wizard is trying to accomplish, and because she’s never been a victim of the system the way Elphaba has, she is still desperately clinging to the idea that everything will be okay as long as she plays by the rules of the people in power.

She has been perfectly primed for Morrible to begin manipulating, not through violence or intimidation, but by offering her comfort when no one else would - when not even Glinda’s only friend would - when no one else is even paying attention to Glinda, because they have the very real and present threat of Elphaba quite literally hanging over them. In this moment, Morrible chooses Glinda, which Glinda has been striving for since the beginning. Elphaba has chosen her principles, the Wizard has chosen his enemy, but Morrible has chosen Glinda, and in this moment of being so alone and so afraid and so betrayed, that makes all the difference.

We also get kind of a parallel shot too - Elphaba really sealed her fate the second her hand closed around the broom. But here, Glinda seals her fate when she gives in and reciprocates Morrible’s hold on her.

THIS is the moment that sets us up for Part 2, with Elphaba and Glinda as our lightning rods for Absolute Evil and Absolute Good, but more to the point, it makes it clear that they’ve BOTH been used, they’ve BOTH played right into these respective roles Morrible and the Wizard need in order to be successful - even if it wasn’t how Morrible originally planned for things to go.

I just love it, because “Defying Gravity” is Elphaba’s song - it’s triumphant, and it’s heartbreaking, and it’s everything a defining moment should be for a character. But by injecting this little moment between Morrible and Glinda into the scene, we also get an underlying current of dread because we know we’re about to see the consequences of Elphaba’s defiance versus Glinda’s compliance and how both serve to benefit the Wizard/Morrible’s propaganda.

TL;DR - when I said "I want to talk about this scene between Morrible and Glinda for a sec" I clearly meant "I'm gonna write a whole essay. Like a nerd."

[vhagarys]

Sired (mini series)

aemond x reader, aegon x reader

PT. 1

summary: you are elated at the celebration that awaits on your eight and tenth name day. little do you know, you brothers have an unexpected surprise for you.

warnings: vampires, canon-typical incest (its the targaryens love), dub-con, smut, blood-drinking, manipulation?, all hail king daemon, siring?, probably more but I can’t think of any.. oops

MDNI

Ten and eight.

Your name day.

Twas a highly awaited day for you and your family both. While you were giddy with excitement for the festivities celebrating your womanhood, you’d little thought as to what exactly would await you.

See, what your family so carefully evaded from you was that the Targaryen dynasty were bestowed gifts in more ways than one. The blood of the dragon coursed through their veins, but so did something else.

A hunger.

On a Targaryen’s eight and tenth name day, the gift of immortality is bestowed upon them.

The dynasty has long reigned as the most feared and most powerful lineage in Westeros from this unique endowment.

Your naivety could almost be pitied as you fussed about the lacing of the scarlet gown you would don on your special day. Grinning like a cheshire cat, your older siblings watched you and your servants pick out jewels and embroidery to stitch onto the neckline.

“Why are we forbidden from speaking of the ritual? Shouldn’t we enlighten our dear sister on the events to ensue on the morrow?”, your sister Helaena frowns as she fiddles with her ring.

Aegon hummed, “I agree, dear sister. But, we mustn't worry her. Look at how excited she is to-”

“The ritual is a rite of passage. Tis a gift given only to us. That in itself is worth celebrating,” your older brother Aemond interrupted, closely following every small movement of his beautiful sister.

Aegon hummed once again, this time in agreement.

Both of your brother's eyes fixed upon your form. Your supple breasts now filled in the bodice of your gown, the soft flesh spilling over. Hips curved and full, your body was ripe and ready for child bearing, which of course did not go unnoticed by your brothers.

No, not when their hands tugged at their weeping cocks to the sound of your voice, to the soft touch of your skin against theirs, the sweet smell oozing from beneath your skin, pumping through your veins.

Aemond’s member twitched eagerly as you pulled the final layer of your gown over your head, leaving you in nothing but your small clothes. His eyes quickly averted to his brother, who chewed into his bottom lip to the point of drawing blood.

Sharp canines poked through his plump lips, Helaena lightly slapped Aegon’s arm and hissed under her breath.

“Control yourself, brother.” His eyes remained glued to you as you bent down to grab your afternoon camise, lavender eyes filling with red as a low growl emitted from his throat.

Just as he went to take a step towards you, the commanding voice of your mother broke through his thoughts.

“Aegon. Come with me.” The queen dowager walked towards them.

“Mother!” Your eyes lit up as your mother graced you with a loving smile.

“Hello, my love. Are you excited for the morrow?” Alicent sauntered towards you and lightly took your chin into her hands.

You beamed. “Very, is there anything I may help with?”

“No, sweet girl,” your mother kissed your forehead.

She turned on her heels, and you missed the look she shot towards your siblings as they quietly followed her out of the room, no words spoken.

That was odd.

They followed her into the adjacent room where she ushered them inside.

Alicent’s eyes were stern as she took a step towards Aegon.

The back of her hand graced the side of his cheek, snapping his head to the side as a pink handprint bloomed onto his pale skin.

“What were you thinking! Losing control of yourself like that in front of her!” She fumed.

Eyes cast down, he murmured, “I wasn’t thinking mother, please, forgive me.”

Aemond couldn’t help but scoff at him, his brother never exhibiting an ounce of self-restraint when it came to you.

Alicent’s eyes shot to her other son. “Keep him in line until the ritual, for the sake of our house. Please Aemond,” who only wordlessly nodded as the queen dowager stormed from the room.

Every fiber in his body wanted nothing but to give you another visit, the only thing stopping Aegon from forsaking his mother’s words was his sire bond.

During the ritual, one must first be bitten by another Targaryen to begin the transition. A sire bond between them is then formed, creating an innate urge within the newly turned to please the one who helped bring them into the world of immortality.

In tradition of their house, the father performs the siring ritual to each of his children. However, as King Viserys met his sudden end several moons past, Alicent performed in his place for each of her three oldest children.

Upon his death, your family named his brother, Daemon Targaryen, as the new king of Seven Kingdoms, your half-sister Rhaenyra his queen.

Them, along with other members of your family all gathered to celebrate the eve of your anticipated celebration.

You were sat next to one of your childhood friends, Sylvia, whilst the rest of your family chattered and indulged themselves.

“Are you nervous?” Sylvia turned to you as you stuffed another biscuit in your mouth.

You giggled. “And whatever is there to be nervous about? It will be a joyous occasion!”

You and your friend missed the quick glances from others at the table, unaware of their eavesdropping.

She leaned in closer, a look of worry within her features.

“I heard whispers in the wind that a sacrifice is required for the ceremony.”

Your heart spiked momentarily.

Just as you were about to question your friend further, a presence behind you pulled you fron your conversation.

“May I steal my sister for a moment?” Aemond offered his hand which you reluctantly took, your friend quick to avert the steely gaze of your brother.

Joyous music rang through the dining room as friends and family danced and laughed together. Aemond pulled you into the throes of people and wrapped his hand around the small of your waist.

He began to sway the both of you as the sour smell of anxiety invaded his nose.

“Brother, is there something regarding the ritual I am not yet aware of?”

He pulled you closer, inhaling the vanilla and cherries on your skin.

“Everything will be just fine, dear sister.” He rubbed small circles in the small of your back as the sweet tang of your blood broke through the sweetness of your perfume.

His breath hitched.

You looked up at him.

Something didn’t feel right.

There was something he wasn’t telling you.

“Pardon me, brother. I must refresh myself in the washroom,” you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before scurrying towards your friend, grabbing Sylvia’s hand before dragging her out of the room.

“Tell me what else you know,” your eyes frantically searched hers for answers after shutting the door behind the pair of you.

“I-I heard that the Targaryens possess a hunger inside of them. O-one of unholiness.”

Surely this was a jest?

You couldn’t shake the unease this warning brought upon you.

Your feet moved faster than your mind as you ran out and made a beeline towards your mother, desperate for some sort of explanation to ease your confusion.

Just as you were about to reach her, you were promptly swept off of your feet by your brother Aegon.

“There she is! The most important girl in the Seven Kingdoms!” You could smell the wine on his breath as he paraded you around the dance floor.

“Brother, please. Please set me down.” His eyes searched yours as an odd look of realization washed over his features.

Without explanation, he made quick work of whisking you out of the dining room and into the library across the hall.

The blood in your veins pumped loudly in your ears as he set you down.

“B-brother, please explain to me what is happening at the ceremony. I know there is something being withheld from me.”

He stopped abruptly in front of you, admiring how beautiful his dear sister looked in the light of the fire. A true Targaryen, he thought.

Perhaps it was the wine coursing through his veins, perhaps it was the desire to finally taste you that had the words tumbling from his lips.

“Have you ever wondered why our dear uncle, the king, has barely aged a day in decades?” He slowly circled behind you.

Vanillas and cherries. He inhaled you.

“I h-hadn’t thought of it, perhaps its-”

“Perhaps it’s because he is unlike a normal being. Perhaps none of us are,” he enjoyed watching the gears turning in your little head as his words filtered through your ears.

Poor, confused little girl, he smiled down at you.

He grasped the bottom of your chin and glazed over your soft features, your insatiably plump lips he so wished to devour.

All the while, you fiddled and picked at your nails beneath your skirts, a nasty habit you developed whenever you were anxious.

PIcking and picking, the unmistakeable scent of blood soon overtook his senses.

A low moan escaped him as he gently reached for your hand.

Trembling, you watched your brother inspect your bloodied nail bed.

“I am fine brother,” you tried to pull away but was effectively stopped as he brought your finger up to his lips and into his mouth.

You were so stunned by the queerness of his actions that you sat frozen in your seat.

Moaning louder, you were met with eyes filled with scarlet.

He looked other-worldly. You couldn’t seem to remove your eyes from your brother.

He smirked down at you as he released your fingers.

“You taste delicious, little zaldrīzes,” (dragon) his tone shot a shiver down your spine.

Cold fingers twirled through the strands of your hair. You couldn’t help but lean into it.

Aegon smiled at your pliancy. He was consumed by the urge to claim you, have you in every way imaginable.

And now he would take it.

Pushing your silver locks behind your ear, he absentmindedly traced circles into the skin of your neck.

“You’re just in time, brother,” Aegon finally acknowledged his brother who stood at the entrance of the door, observing the scene between the two of you.

As if hypnotized, your eyes remained locked on Aegons, your other brother taking his time as he waltzed over to the two of you.

“Well, what do we have here, hm?” His eyes immediately found purchase on your exposed neck, fidgeting in his place.

“Oh, I was just ensuring our dear sister was alright, it appears she cut herself. Look, brother.” He brought your fingers up to his lips and kissed them lightly, delighted to see how uncomfortable his younger brother looked.

You finally turned your gaze to Aemond, snapped out of the trance you were previously in.

“Aemond, I-I don’t understand what’s happening.”

His usual stoic demeanor cracked as the urge to taste you swallowed him whole.

He took the seat on the other side of Aegon and grasped your injured appendage.

“Shh. It’s alright. Allow me”, he began to lick up the droplets sliding down your finger, groaning as he finally got to taste you.

He needed more. They both did.

Watching his brother, a wicked thought popped into his brain.

“Would you like to know how we taste, mandia aesi?” (dear sister) Aegon ran his fingers through your tangled locks.

Mindlessly, you nodded as you watched your brother lapping at your finger. Not even registering what is what your brother was asking of you.

Aemond’s eyes shot up to his brother, wordlessly disapproving of what he had in mind.

Ignoring him, he pricked his finger and slowly brought it up to your lips.

“Jikagon, sylutegon issa mandia,” (go ahead, taste me sister).

Before your conscience could stop you, you savored the queer, coppery taste of your brothers blood.

You knew not of the sorcery that possessed you. All you knew was you wanted more.

Something inside of you snapped.

You wrapped your other hand around his arm, effectively locking him in place as you sucked harder, drawing more blood from his wound.

The pair of them watched, transfixed as their sister indulged.

A light yank of your hair pulled you from him, your other brother offering a taste from him which you happily obliged.

After a few minutes went by, you released his hand and licked your lips.

“More please,” your brother’s eyes darkened, something primal finally overtook any ounce of self-restraint remaining at your glossy eyes and blood dribbling down your chin.

“Now, don’t be greedy, dear sister. Let us have another turn.”

Leaning back in your chair, your brothers crowded each side of you and littered your neck with small kisses.

Nosing along your vein, your brother Aemond murmured, “Ao sytilībagon naejot īlva, mandia.” (you belong to us now, sister) before piercing into your soft flesh.

You groaned loudly as you felt a slight sting on either side of your neck, soon followed by an intense pleasuring shooting through every nerve in your body.

Gripping the arms of the chairs, your eyes rolled to back of your head as you brother continued to drink from you, their lust for you sending them into a frenzy.

Your body buzzed from the intensity, teetering on the precipice of an unknown pleasure you felt soon claim you as you lost control of your senses, spiralling into a black abyss.

Soon, your brothers broke away from you, maroon staining the skin around their mouths as they gazed upon your lifeless body.

“Fuck,” Aegon murmured as he wiped off and tasted the remains of you on his lips.

Aemond sighed. He stirred in his breaches as he reveled in the euphoria of the moment.

“She is insatiable,” Aemond grabbed a napkin and cleaned himself.

“Hmm, I already wish to taste her again,” Aegon smiled devilishly at his brother.

“Mother will be furious,” Aemond noted, following a rivulet of blood running down the valley of your breasts.

“Tis little matter now.”

The minutes dragged on before the doors of the library swung open, revealing a furious Alicent along with Daemon, Rhaenyra, and Helaena.

Taking in the scene before them, Alicent stormed toward the three of you.

“What have you done!” She shouted, rushing towards you lying limp in the chair, inspecting the puncture wounds on your neck.

Before either could reply, a small whimper left you which directed everyone’s attention.

Slowly lifting your eyelids, once lavender orbs were now tainted with red.

authors note: already starting pt. 2 hehehe, let me know your thoughts!

#enjoy

- alie

[thewistlingbadger]

Originally I was going to respond to someone else's reblog of this post because I thought it was a good discussion and good points were made. However I also found that it was too harsh and critical of you for my liking so I'm going to respond to your post right here without the input of others. In this post I'm going to provide additional perspectives as to why people are upset about the direction Jinx's character took.

1. Jinx canonically is mentally ill, we see her mental illness at a young age and her mental health problems only become more apparent as she gets older. Lots of fans relate to Jinx due to her mental health issues and her mental illness because they struggle with similar issues. So to have a character that provided representation to those who struggle with mental illness and mental health issues no longer struggle with those things no longer be battling an illness she was born with is incredibly disheartening. Because she was validating all these people and now suddenly the show has taken the opposite stance. Season one for a lot of people showed that you could be mentally ill and not be treated like a villain. You could be as complex as Jinx and have heroic moments like she did in s1. S2 eliminated Jinx's mental illness because in the eyes of the writers there was no way to make her a "True Hero" if she was still struggling with that stuff if she was still killing. They literally put an episode in season 2 where Jinx seemingly no longer had mental illness and everything was so good in that universe. Episode 7 gives off the impression that Powder is a better version of Jinx because she doesn't struggle with her mental health, because she's well adjusted, because she has all her family, etc. But remember, "there is beauty to imperfections" they make you who you are. Powder is an alternative version of Jinx but she is not "better" than Jinx. So one perspective is that Jinx no longer struggling is bad because it takes away representation for the mentally ill and it gives a poor message to them ("you would be better if you didn't have your illness").

2. Yes, people DID want to see Jinx get worse, and for multiple reasons. The first one I'll talk about is game accuracy. Arcane is based on the game League of Legends and in that game Jinx is an EXTREMELY unhinged character she is constantly bombing piltover with a smile on her face. She has a lot of Joker vibes in the game and because the show is based on the game people expected Jinx's character to go in a similar direction in the second season. When her character did NOT go down that path it left people feeling disappointed, ESPECIALLY since the finale of s1 suggested that Jinx's character was going to go down a darker path. People thought that with Jinx firing the weapon at the council and with Silco dying, Jinx was about to go apeshit and wreak havoc. But she didn't. Instead she got really calm.

Another reason why people would have preferred to see her go on a downward spiral is because villainy is entertaining. Jinx's character was already antagonistic in season one she was already doing bad things and it was a major reason for her popularity. What she did was wrong and incredibly tragic but it was also really fun to watch. People liked how incredibly twisted she was and wanted to see more of that side of her and they didn't get to.

3. Jinx's characterization in season 2 goes against a major message and takeaway from season one and by doing so it undermines season one. Season one discussed Jinx's inner conflict of identity and the past vs the present. At the end of the season Jinx finally decided who she was going to be. The message of the finale was ultimately that you can't change the past and you can't change who you used to be. All you can do is accept yourself and live in the present. That is a really powerful and strong message that we all need to hear and it was a lesson Jinx needed to learn. But in season two Jinx doesn't act on this lesson. She decides she's not going to be herself she's going to be who she used to be. This goes against a key theme in season one and that was incredibly frustrating to watch.

4. The direction of Jinx's character in season two was just bad writing all around. Not only did it go against who Jinx was set up to be in s1 and it went against the message of s1, it also just broke general writing rules. Character arcs are supposed to be progressive. We're supposed to see characters grow and evolve. We see Jinx go through this in season 1, she goes from "Powder" to "Jinx". But in season two Jinx's character is REGRESSIVE, it's about going back to the way things used to be. She isn't growing, she's shrinking. She's not evolving as a character she's reverting back to who she was at the start of the show. Season one ends with the promise of Jinx becoming herself and acting on her identity more confidently. This promise is immediately broken in season two, with Jinx LITERALLY saying the line "Jinx is dead." In season two Jinx acts nothing like how she acted in season one, she quickly reunites and reconciles with her original family and she even goes so far as to start answering to the name Powder again. This just feels like a complete betrayal of who she was in s1 as well as a complete betrayal of season 1 itself.

So TDLR there's many reasons why some are upset at the calmness of Jinx's character and there's many reasons why they SHOULD be upset. I think it's natural to want to see your favorite character happy but I also think it's natural to expect the story to behave organically and the direction of Jinx's character didn't feel organic.

are people seriously mad Jinx got better as the show went on? Like really? You would have been happier if she continued to be tortured in that way her whole life? Yall do realize she’s ill right? Idk i don’t get that but I like the character so 🤷🏻

[princesssarisa]

I think in Wicked (the musical at least – not sure about the novel), there's a bit of an uneasiness between the theme of "everyone is morally gray, no one is all bad or all good" and the fact that Elphaba is a freedom fighter against a fascist government that commits atrocities against a minority group.

Yes, the Wizard has some sympathetic qualities, Elphaba has some flaws and briefly turns to villainy toward the end, and Glinda is a mass of moral grayness under her perky pink facade. But for the most part it's clear who the villains are (the Wizard and Madame Morrible), Elphaba's stance against them is clearly heroic, and Glinda's choice to work for them is clearly a moral sell-out, with which she struggles and from which she eventually redeems herself. When the Animals' treatment parallels the treatment of Jews in Nazi Germany, you can't take a "both sides" view of the situation. But every now and then, the show seems to do just that – whether in the song "Wonderful" with the Wizard's talk of "moral ambiguities" (though of course in that song, he's trying to justify his actions and manipulate Elphaba into joining him), or Elphaba and Glinda's reconciliation in "For Good," where they paint themselves as having been equally at fault. And again, and again, I've heard people say "There are no real villains in Wicked: the whole point is that there are two sides to every story and neither side is all good or all bad." But if that's the intended message, does it honestly fit with a plot that involves fascism and racial persecution?

Another work of fiction that I think has some uneasiness between its themes is Disney's Beauty and the Beast. Namely between "the Beast as a suffering, misunderstood outcast" and "the Beast as a powerful bully who needs to be humbled and change." I think a lot of the controversy about that movie stems from the uneasiness between those two themes.

On the one hand, the Beast is a spoiled, selfish prince, who was cursed as punishment for shutting out a poor beggar woman, who has a terrifying temper, and who orders others around and throws tantrums when he doesn't get his own way. His beastly appearance and mannerisms can be seen as outward symbols of his bad behavior, which is based in toxic class privilege and masculinity. From this perspective, Gaston is his kindred spirit, which is emphasized by visual cues: e.g. their similar striking blue eyes, or Gaston's pelt-covered, horned chair in the tavern that looks like the Beast's silhouette. The difference between them is that the Beast finally realizes he was wrong and changes his ways, while Gaston only becomes more beastly. But on the other hand, the Beast is also an "other", who hides from the world, who struggles with basic social skills, who is full of insecurity and self-loathing, whom Belle bonds with because they're both misfits, whose bestial mannerisms and overpowering rages are at least partly because the spell is warping his mind (in other words, a magical mental illness), and whom a mob tries to murder just because he looks scary. Analogies have rightly been drawn between the Beast and victims of racism, homophobia, or other prejudice. From this viewpoint, Gaston is his opposite: the type of privileged boor who receives undeserved hero-worship just because he's handsome and charismatic, and who persecutes "others" like the Beast.

When people view it chiefly as a story about the taming of a powerful bully, you hear accusations of "Stockholm Syndrome" and of the dangerous fantasies of changing an abuser. Viewing the Beast as a misunderstood outcast, who finds acceptance in a fellow outcast and who overcomes his mental health struggles and bad coping mechanisms as a result, reduces those accusations. But if you view the Beast chiefly as a misunderstood outcast, then his character arc can feel disempowering: so much of it consists of learning to be more people-pleasing and self-effacing, not to mention re-learning "normal" human manners and behavior (as an autistic person, I know I've sometimes felt "He needs to mask to be loved"), and he becomes fully "normal" by becoming human again in the end.

Maybe there is no uneasiness between these different themes: maybe it's just complexity. Maybe my feelings on the subject shows that I'm autistic and struggle with things that aren't black-and-white. But in both of these works of fiction, I do sometimes feel as if the writers were trying to tell two different stories at once, which sometimes fit together, sometimes not.

Does anyone else feel that way about other works of fiction? Can you name any other stories with multiple themes that seem slightly opposed and uneasy together?

[heavenshardware]

I’m crazy about the fact that Maxwell joined si-5 after 6 months of stalking and enormous pressure while Jacobi treats his one year anniversary of joining like it’s his wedding day. Idk what this is saying but I feel like it definitely says something about them and the way they view their places and roles in the power structure and their involvement in si-5

oh Absolutely. this is something i have put So much thought into because most si-5-centric episodes areeee My favorites.

Kepler and jacobi really do just. Work so well together and they way they just cut each other down is so Disgusting and Beautiful. but before i can really talk about that i do want to bring up the circumstance of how their “meeting” in TTBOT that kepler set up was able to create the roots for any of this.

kepler purposefully finds jacobi at his lowest and his most vulnerable (unlike maxwell). refers to him as his friend, starting off with his infamous “long story short”’s, buying him drinks. you could even take the way that he acts with and speaks to jacobi as a little flirtious. he pretends to take a genuine interest jacobi’s life, entertaining his riffing. as far as we know, jacobi and kepler are the only two people who are able to speak to each other in such a way that’s almost poetic. they finish each others sentences, and on jacobi’s side of things—

**i want to mention kepler quoting king lear in act 1 scene 4 specifically here. this is a little off topic but i also want to talk about it. TTBOT is also a good parallel of this scene because it lays the foundation for jacobi’s undying loyalty for kepler and his destructive nature and how it compliments keplers focus for only creating what matters as they both mirror kent and king lear respectively. this scene also touches on introducing keplers fatal flaw: his pride

—to directly quote kent here, he’s able to “keep secrets…ruin an elaborate story by trying to tell it, and deliver a plain message bluntly”. jacobi is essentially the filter for kepler, has he’s molded him as such. really, jacobi has trusted kepler from the beginning; i mean, how many other guys do you know that are also military men who go to shitty pubs in san francisco in the middle of the afternoon? jacobi is putty in keplers hands. kepler likes control, and when it comes to kepler, jacobi likes giving it up. [insert some powerplay joke here based on their innuendo-esque discussions about punishment]

moving on from TTBOT specifically, though, it makes sense that they have such a relationship. kepler introduces himself as jacobi’s savior. kepler is the reason he’s found a job, kepler is the reason he’s found his best friend who is practically his sister, kepler is the reason for.. who he is. (its also definitely related to the cycle of abuse kepler gets caught in due to his proximity to cutter.) kepler manipulates jacobi’s desperate need for approval constaaaantly so their power dynamic mimics that of two people who put each other on pedestals just building them higher and higher. kepler is obsessed with keeping up his image so jacobi doesn’t lose trust in him, and jacobi is obsessed with knowing that this image is true so he can continue to mirror it. he separates himself from his personhood to get as close to kepler as possible. in an ama somewhere as well shachat says that the two *need* special attention from each other for the si-5 to even function as a team! codependent freakssss!!!

to get to a general point about power structures, though, jacobi and kepler are so high up because they work together as a unit essentially sharing a status when the cutter administration isn’t present. neither of them believe that maxwell is “beneath” them, however, she simply isn’t able to match the influence or connection they have. maxwell is a skeptic, she’s a *woman* who’s been wronged so many times by the system that she has a general distrust of everyone and everything around her (excluding hera because… you know). and thats not to say she doesn’t genuinely value her relationship with jacobi either, but she teases him for his undying loyalty to kepler and their genuine appreciation for goddard. she’s only there to do her job as kepler is the only person giving her the means to do it. within the system, jacobi and maxwell are coworkers and kepler is their superior. however, socially, jacobi is above maxwell because of how much kepler and jacobi value each other.

not to paraphrase mitski here but… you know. jacobi is keplers dog. he believes in him like a god. and kepler will cut him down like he is

[sarafangirlart]

Long post so not sure wheter or not you will read it, but there's a retelling of the myth of Perseus for kids by Imme Dros: De huiveringwekkende mythe van Perseu. The book is in german, so I will point put some bits from it that I liked and some rough translations of the fragments by me.

1) Here it's said that Acrisius thought Perseus is the son of his twin brother, not of Zeus. This is the first time for me when I see a book aimed for kids about Perseus that mentions Proteus too. Also, it is mentioned that Acrisius imprisoned Danaë back when she was only 13.

"King Akrisios heard him crying under his feet. Furious, he had Danaë taken from her prison.

'Who is that child? Whose child is that and who is the father?'

'This is Perseus, I am his mother and Zeus is his father.'

'Zeus the father? You must mean my twin brother. Of course he seduced you. To take my land! He is not satisfied with his own area, he wants everything. He has sons and now he is also claiming my grandson.'

(King Akrisios and his brother were born fighting, already fought in their mother's womb, already hated each other before they saw the light and they didn't trust each other for a fathom.)"

2) Danaë wants to educate child Perseus, but all he thinks about is fishing. She wants him to know about the gods, to which Perseus tells her that the only god he has to know about is Poseidon. Danaë then tells him that he will be the King of Argos one day so he must know about the gods too. Little Perseus's favorite god is Hermes, so he constantly asks his mom to tell him more about him:

"Diktys taught young Perseus all about ships, sails and oars and everything he needed to know about water, wind and current to become a decent fisherman. Danaë wanted to teach him everything about the gods. Perseus had no patience for that. He protested:

'I go to sea and I only need to know Poseidon, that is the god of the sea, that is the god of fishermen.'

'But you will not remain a fisherman, Perseus. You will be a king! King of Argos. Kings should know the gods.'

'Well, then tell me the adventures of Hermes. Hermes is also a god and he always wins, that's exciting,' Perseus demanded, but his mother kept trying.

'Soon from Hermes. Listen now, Perseus. First there was Chaos. Everything came from Chaos... Say, are you listening, Perseus?'

'Yes, I hear it. But now from Hermes. Now from Hermes again.'

'Soon from Hermes. This is important. You need to know this. Everything comes from the great, fierce, dark Chaos...'

3) When Polydectes saw Danaë for the first time he thought she's Artemis and started to worship her for a moment:

"A powerful king ruled on the island of Serifos who oppressed and sucked his people, Polydectes. He was Diktys' brother and just as bad as he was good. About the time Perseus became a man came Polydectes meets the lovely Danaë during a hunt through the forest. At first he thought she was Artemis, the goddess of hunters, and he fell down before her. When he noticed she was human, he demanded that she become his lawful wife.  Danaë didn't want to."

4) At the beginning of his journey Perseus arrives for the first time in Athens, where he starts crying because of how beautiful the city was:

"Who stood shouting loudly in the middle of Athens could just reach a man near the walls with his voice. So the city was not allowed to get any bigger, that would be a danger. Perseus cried his eyes out. What a square, what houses, what a beautiful temple, what a mighty theater. That such a thing could exist. And oh, what people. He would get an answer to his question here, that was certain. But in the busy market of Athens no one could help him.

'Did you say Gorgons?'

'Gorgons? No, I wouldn't know.'

'No, you shouldn't be with us.'

'Go ask that in Delfi. Everyone goes there and that's why it must be good. Anyone who has a question and wants an answer always goes to Delfi.'

'Delfi, go to Delfi.'

5) They go by the version where Medusa was a beautiful mortal woman once. The difference is that here she willingly has sex with Poseidon in Athena's temple, and when she asks her how dare she do such thing Medusa tells her that Poseidon loves her and wants to marry her and she will soon become her aunt, so she should be nice with her from now on. This is the moments when Athena gets angry and turns her into a gorgon.

"[Medusa] made no apologies and bragged about her affair.

'If Poseidon marries me then I will be your aunt, Athena. He has more power than you, so don't worry about that temple.'

Pride comes before a fall, let people realize this very well! No matter how one excels, modesty is always required. They will never become gods, they just don't want to understand that. [...] A single bad trait can undo all the good that a mortal received. Gods hate pride and it was for her pride that Medusa had to pay, even though she was a nymph and the daughter of Forkys, the sea god."

6) We get to see the moments where Athena teaches Perseus how to fight while looking and his shield, whereas Hermes teaches him how to fly with those sandals:

"With the shield in her hands, Athena came to Perseus and she said to him, the goddess with the sea-green eyes:

'Never look directly at a Gorgon, look into this shield and look for her image, just remember that the right is the left in it.'

Perseus practiced diligently for the battle with Medusa, aimed in the shining shield at trees and rocks. Hard enough, it took him days to hit anything. He also had to learn to fly. With trial and error. Hermes held his hand and it took a while before he managed to keep his balance during take off and descent, before it flew straight and could make a quick turn. Flying seemed so easy when you saw birds flying,

but Perseus would never become a swift or a seagull. When he became more confident in floating and not every nymph anymore was crooked with laughter as he sailed past, Hermes announced that it was time to leave. And the merry nymphs wept loudly at parting."

7) The Perseus and Andromeda moments are sweet but cute. Also, here Andromeda and her family live in Joppa:

"Now Joppa was in charge because Perseus demanded the bride, but the man with the oldest rights came with an army.

To make a long story short: Medusa's head

served well again because every enemy petrified. Perseus and Andromeda were married that same day. He loved her and she loved him so they were happy The celebration of the great wedding in Joppa lasted ten days."

"King Cepheus made the cupbearer go round again, then each guest left for his own house to sleep. But the king slept in the palace next to Kasiopeia, and Andromeda shared her bed with her bridegroom Perseus."

8) Perseus also traveled in the Underworld before arriving in Joppa. At his wedding he tells the quest about what he saw in the realm of Hades and even tells the myth of the seasons at one point for some reason (but I won't include it as well because it's too long):

"Nowhere is the water as deep as where the water is separates the living from the dead. Five rivers flow between us and the poor, unfortunate shadows. When I looked at the grave lily meadows it seemed as if I

just like the Gorgons looked into a mirrored shield, but outside that shield was none of what was reflected. I saw the

images of people, but the people themselves were nowhere. And I saw those shadows of people nowhere present stagger across the meadows and report to the entrance where the Dog sat.  He let the shadows pass, but when one wanted to go out he shook his three heads. Whether they were old, whether they were young, inside was inside. There in the depths Haides and Persefoneia rule."

"On the edge of Tartaros, that is the deepest depth, houses the goddesses of revenge, who continue to persecute people if they have committed crimes. Their faces and claws, horrible to see, something I will never be able to forget. The Harpies are also monstrously ugly, fast as the storm wind they fly about to torment the dead, to provoke the people. They have heads like women, bodies and wings like birds, claws like tigers. When a man has insulted a god come the cruel Harpies. They pollute his food, shit on his plate and piss in his cup.

Until he dies of hunger at crowded, smelly tables. And I saw Sleep and his brother Death far away walking at the gates where all dreams come through."

"...daughters of my father Danaus, bear water to a great and bottomless barrel in leaking jars.These women killed their husbands the night after the wedding day. When I saw the poor shadows dragging the leaky jars my eyes became blind with tears, I couldn't bear it. And I became afraid of everything that could happen to myself. Suddenly I wanted to leave and I would prefer to forget everything what I saw there under the dark earth."

9) There's a short moment where, turning back to Argos, Danaë visits the chamber where she was imprisoned years ago:

"King Akrisios heard the news and his bad conscience drove him away from Argos to a city in the north. He had friends there in Larissa, he was safe there. So when Perseus arrived with his wife and his mother, he found in Argos an empty palace and no one could say where old king Akrisios had gone, whether he was alive or perhaps dead and under the earth. Danaë showed her son the underground dungeon,

dark and gloomy with bronze doors and no windows. And she visited the places where she had played as a girl. When they were on the beach of the sea just like a long time ago laid flowers of pebbles, she cried bitter tears. Because her life had turned out differently than she had hoped."

Why are all the interesting Perseus adaptations not available in English?

[prythianpages]

Azriel x Valeria (Rhysand's Sister OC) | "Some nights are still, I close my eyes and picture me and you."

(An edit based off this series & inspired by Orlando, Kilu's You're Everything bc the lyrics just screamed Val & Az to me. I've always pictured Anya Chalotra as Val in my head. Also, read below for spoilers on the series. Warning that these spoilers will not make sense if you haven’t read the series and that this series is not completed & currently on hold.)

a/n: Idk if anyone remembers this series or cares but I think about Val from time to time & it breaks my heart that I didn't get to finish her story. I didn't even get to the part that inspired this series. Stupid writer's block. Anyway, this is what I had planned for part two & thought why not share it. Warning this is a draft/summary of a plot so things are not finalized and may be confusing.

Val emerges from the blood rite as an Oristian. She almost made it to the top but when she saw Damien (Lord Devlon's son, the one who hurt her in the past and the one who Azriel threatened) being attacked on the mountain, she chooses to save him. It's kind of a moment of pity but also one of spite because he'll have to live with the fact that he survived the blood rite thanks to her (because all Damien attributed to her was just “another pretty face”)

Of course, this is ground breaking because she is the first female to achieve such a title (and maybe not so realistic in terms of canon stuff but ya know what, that's the beauty of fanfic lol.) But for her, this moment proved that she was worthy of fighting for her court.

This doesn't settle well in the Night Court. I imagine that Prythian is not so accepting of having such a powerful female and in this series, Rhys's dad is an asshole to her. So he throws a ball for her to celebrate her achievement but it's really her engagement party in disguise. He's marrying her to the Night Court's general, who is cruel and set on "taming her." Because now she is engaged, her father forces traditional expectations on her to keep her from “stepping out of line” with her power and also to quiet down rumors that she may be the heir the Cauldron chooses (and not Rhys.)

Az, Rhys, and Cas are pissed. With the upcoming war, they make their own plans to kill off the general so Val doesn't have to marry him. Meanwhile, Val & Az are still sneaking off. During this time, Val begins to understand her powers more and more, which is astral projection. Her powers were always connected to the moon and I really liked the idea of her being able to leave her body and wander off into some kind of spiritual realm and enter other people's dreams. (I was also going to mess more with portals/astral projection here but I wanted to read CC & TOG first for more context on portals.) However, at this point, she doesn’t realize she’s trying to astral project. Az does find her right when she’s on the verge of succeeding in her first astral projection and he freaks out because her body is unresponsive. He essentially calls her back to her body & they’re both confused as to what the hell happened. Az chooses not to question it, too distracted in his relief that Val is okay and was just in a “deep slumber.”

Val and Az do eventually get caught by Rhysand that goes a little like this. The mating bond has already snapped for them (any guesses when lol) but they were pretty much in denial for their own reasons. Az didn't think he was deserving of Val as his mate. Val was scared that Az only felt something for her solely because of the bond and not because he actually loved her. They do address the bond and their feelings.

Nothing changes much in terms of their relationship. They still keep it a secret, only difference is that now Rhys knows. Things are tense between Rhys & Val. I was planning on mixing canon here with the war and Valkyries dying, which leaves Val devastated. Val's fiance also dies and it's revealed that this had been the High Lord's plan all along. He wanted to get rid of his general but in a sneaky way to avoid conflict in his court so he arranged Val to marry him, knowing one of the bat boys would take care of it. (I was planning on writing a scenario where all 3 of them had their plans to kill him off like poison, targeted attack, etc and it's not clear as to which was the plan that actually killed him. Funny part here is that this is something they kept from each other but Az ends up finding out and has a small laugh at that.)

Val's dad suspects something going on between Az & Val. He sends Az on a triggering mission and then gives Az a warning to stay away from Val or else. Az realizes Rhys had been right all this time. That the High Lord would use their feelings for one another against each other so Az decides to distance himself. He ultimately breaks Val's heart for the sake of keeping her safe and things go downhill from here between them.

The war is still going on. Rhysand gets kidnapped by Amarantha (I already forgot who it was he had gone to save? I think it was Jurian? only to get captured.) When Val hears this, she goes to rescue him and reluctantly works together with Az. The war ends shortly after but Val is still giving Az the cold shoulder.

I had a headcanon that somewhere in this timeline, Rhys and Val go to the Bone Carver. Rhys sees either Feyre or Amarantha & Val sees Tamlin (I made this choice based off this theory that the Bone Carver shows you someone related to your death/near-death.)

Anyway, Prythian is trying to move on to a period of peace after the war. Tamlin & Rhysand become closer to one another. Val's mom notices the distance between Az & Val so she takes it upon herself to do something about it. She insists on Val taking her to see her friend one day and they end up at Rose Hall to visit Azriel's mom. Az just so happens to be there too. Things are tense & awkward. Az and his mom end up having a talk once Val and her mom leave: “Why do you deny yourself happiness, my son?” “It’s complicated.” “tell me…is she worth fighting for?” “Yes.” he answers without hesitation. “Then fight for her.” His mother says, encouraging him not to give up. Something along that.

Amarantha is still lingering around Prythian and I wanted to write about her pursuit/interest in Tamlin. This pisses Rhys off and Val steps in to help, which then makes Azriel jealous. After pining and groveling from Az, him and Val reconcile.

Another headcanon I had was that Val's mom always knew Val & Az were endgame. So just as she had made dresses for Rhys's mate, she made many for Val. She even made mating ceremony outfits for Val & Az.

Val & Az make a plan to basically elope/accept their mating bond. They set a date & make private arrangements with a priestess.

Meanwhile, as Rhys and Tam grow closer (and also Val but on her end, it is all platonic), Tam's dad does not like it. I was still going to follow canon, where he plans to target/kill Rhys. But the sons of spring find Val & her mom instead so they attack them. They kill Val's mom first. This is where I had planned for Tamlin to save Val from dying (was still debating on two possible scenarios so I'll just leave it at this.)

I had also planned for him to use his shape shifting abilities (as far as canon goes, he is only able to shift others into animals but I've always been curious how Feyre was able to shift into Ianthe so I feel like this is part of his power that he keeps secret) to shift Val's appearance to keep her safe from his brothers. He also helps her hide somewhere for the time being.

Angst comes in because this all happens right before the private mating ceremony Val & Az had planned. They are all devasted when they find Rhys's mom's head in the river. All they find of Valeria is one of her belonging's so they go Spring Court for revenge. Tamlin's family gets killed. Rhys is too enraged to hear reason, his dad goes on to kill Tamlin's mom. Az is also there but his priority is to find Val because he thinks they have her held captive. He doesn't find her in time but he can still feel the mating bond. He goes crazy trying to search for her.

Weeks past and no sightings or news of Val. Until one night, he no longer feels the bond at all and completely breaks down.

Meanwhile, Val is going through a period of grief from losing her mother & starts to blame herself for it. She doesn't want to face Rhys because she feels like she failed him in keeping their mother safe. Tamlin allows her to stay with him for as long as she needs (he’s also grieving loss of his family.) Val is still disguised as a different fae. So she starts to explore her astral projection powers more, wanting to find answers. This is where she learns she can travel through a spiritual realm. She reunites with Noctis & her mother, who warn her not to stay in this realm for too long as time passes differently there.

Val also learns that through this spiritual realm, she can travel & visit others. So she visits the Night Court & finds Azriel. She touches him, hoping he can feel her but he doesn't. She then finds herself slipping into his dreams just to see him again.

Azriel begins to dreams of her a lot. He finds himself sleeping more just to see her again. One night, he wakes up to find the piano playing itself–a love ballad. One that Val wrote for Azriel. He thinks this is the way of the house of wind comforting him but his shadows pick up on a presence. (In reality, it's Val trying to communicate with him through the “spiritual” realm.)

So in summary, Val's powers were portal/astral projecting and she's able to slip into other's dreams or visit them (kind of like ghosts? I guess. How you may feel a presence but sometimes, you don't necessarily see them.) That is where part two ends because I had planned for a part three...Though part three wasn't as extensively planned as part two, it was going to focus on Val finding her way back to herself (bc her soul does get lost from astral projecting too much) and realizing so much time had passed.

She's still in Spring but I was torn between having her come back prior to ACOTAR events or somewhere during. Tamlin had vowed to keep Val safe because he blames himself for what happened. If this were to happen prior to ACOTAR, I planned to include Lucien, more Amarantha and her meeting Feyre.

If this were to happen during ACOTAR events, I pictured Tamlin keeping Val safe in a locked room (using magic to keep her body preserved, I dunno, I didn't think this far lol.) Lucien & Feyre grow curious about the room but it's Feyre who sneaks her way in and sees an unconscious body. Tamlin lies and tells her it's his sister or some relative. Feyre lets this slip to Lucien who calls Tamlin out because he knows Tamlin never had a sister or living relative that he’s close to. When Val does “wake up” from her astral projecting, tensions rise between her and Tamlin when she asks for him to release her of his magic and let her look like her again. All she wants to do is go back home. But Tamlin tells her it’s not safe.

Either way, I planned for Val to meet Az again but he doesn't recognize her because she doesn't look like Val. Though, he feels something deeper between them & from his pov, he freaks out because he recognizes a pull. He fears what this means for him because he thinks this is the Cauldron's way of telling him Val is dead. (So insert more angst here because Val & Az went from friends to lovers to “enemies” to now “strangers.”)

Eventually, Tamlin does release Val from his magic. She looks like her again and wastes no time in going back home where she reunites with Rhys, Cas, Mor & Az.

 She decides to winnow to the Sidra, knowing someone would sense her "intrusion" to Velaris. And within seconds, a winged figure lands behind her. Azriel. He pales like he’s seen a ghost and falls to his knees, tears welling up in his eyes. He thinks he’s hallucinating. “Val?” He breathes.

“I’m sorry I missed our mating ceremony.” She replied with tears in her eyes. “I got held up.”

and Val & Az have their happy ending <3

Sorry this was a lot. I do hope I can eventually finish writing Val's story. I don't know how to explain it but even though I wrote this, I'm having trouble reconnecting with this series. If this doesn't make any sense, I'm sorry and I'm open to any questions. Just thought I'd share the plans I had for this rather than keeping it to my google doc.

[ayrtonswnna]

helloo, author-chan! Me again hehe 😊😊

I love how you did my request abt Franco x Senna!reader. I really do, it really shows Ayrton's child-ish character (all thanks to the lord and savior, Gerhard Berger) Hehe.

Anyways, I wanna do another request.

It's for Ayrton himself, but the reader is his childhood friend who's goodbyes from him were like a form of betrayal for her accord and cut ties with him for good when she founds out he got married (which i think you know that his wife and him got divorced but then dated gfs here and there, you'll get my point). UNTIL, she was invited to the paddock in one of the races and she doesn't know he was a F1 driver.

Your plot is your own free will but make it STRAIGHT ANGST to Forgiving at the end, that is if you can ofc. No pressure 😊😊.

Good Luck, Author-chan 😘

ʚɞ a/n: more ayrton content yessss!!!! hey sweetheart, thank you very much!!!!! i am sorry for taking so long to finish your request, but here it is!!

i tried my best to embody your request (and take the challenge) and keep as much as i could of your ideas, added a lot for context and got a bit carried away, but i think it turned out great.

i'm head over heels for angst so here it is!!! hope you like it and thank you for your support!!!!

⠀⠀⠀⠀A LONG TIME COMING 〃 ayrton senna oneshot

ʚɞ ayrton senna x maria de oliveira. (female!oc)

ayrton sees his past right in front of him. a lot has changed.

warnings: ANGST. A LOT OF IT. story takes place in the late 80s/early 90s, it's up to you, author opened wikepedia and chose the first old man in power to be the villain, description of an abusive relationship, character physically and mentally hurt, ayrton saves the day, mention of non-active character death, author in need of therapy (she's picturing dead man as a savior)

Ayrton recognized her the moment he saw her. It wasn’t just her face—it was the memories she brought with her. Childhood afternoons spent running through São Paulo streets, teenage years filled with laughter and long conversations. All of it came rushing back in a heartbeat.

But she had changed.

The tight coils her mother used to braid into intricate hairstyles were now softer curls, looser and more subdued—maybe she straightened her hair sometimes. Gone were the colorful clothes and wide, carefree smiles. In their place were sharp heels, a tailored blazer, and muted tones. It was strange, seeing someone so familiar and yet so different. Could a person change so much and still remain the same?

"Do you know her?"

The question jolted Ayrton from his thoughts. The voice belonged to Jo Ramirez, McLaren’s team coordinator, who was sitting beside him and following his line of sight.

"Who?" Ayrton asked, though he already knew.

"Maria. My girlfriend."

The word hit him like a slap. Girlfriend?

"I—uh—yeah," Ayrton stammered, struggling to keep his tone casual. "Her mom’s Brazilian. Friends with my family. Something like that."

He hesitated before adding, "Isn’t she much younger? Like... twenty-five?"

Twenty-five. Ayrton knew her exact age, knew she’d turn twenty-six on November 3rd. He remembered everything. Her mom from Rio de Janeiro, her dad from England. Their parents’ business ties that had brought them together so often they practically grew up as siblings—until they weren’t anymore.

Until he left.

Jo chuckled, clearly finding the question amusing. "Yeah, something like that. But what’s it to you?"

Ayrton’s lips pressed into a thin line. Jo Ramirez was fifty. Fifty years old. Ayrton thought he knew Maria better than this, thought she’d never go down that road. A man twice her age, with a background so different from hers.

"I mean," Ayrton pressed, "she’s young enough to be your daughter. Don’t you... don’t you find it weird?"

Jo smirked, leaning back in his chair. "No, not at all. That’s the beauty of it. I can put her in her place. However I want to."

The words set off alarm bells in Ayrton’s head, a sinking feeling twisting in his gut. His face must have given him away because Jo laughed, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Relax, man. It’s not what you think. She’s not a kid. And besides," Jo added, his tone turning smug, "you don’t know her anymore. People change."

Ayrton’s gaze shifted back to Maria, standing at the edge of the garage, her expression unreadable. She seemed lost in her own thoughts, her body tense like she didn’t belong there.

Jo’s next words were like knives.

"These girls, man... they’re like having a personal doll. A private paradise. You do what you want, whenever you want. She doesn’t even complain anymore."

Ayrton snapped his head toward him. "What the fuck, Jo? Are you—are you hearing yourself? What the fuck are you even saying?"

Jo just laughed again, as if Ayrton’s reaction was a joke. "Chill out, mate. It’s my girlfriend. None of your business."

But Ayrton couldn’t shake the sick feeling in his stomach. His gaze flicked back to Maria, and for a fleeting moment, their eyes met.

Ayrton’s mind raced, trying to process Jo’s callous words. The jovial tone, the dismissive attitude — it all felt too wrong. He couldn't believe that the Maria he once knew, the vibrant and spirited girl who used to run through the streets of São Paulo with him, could be subjected to this kind of treatment.

The words "personal doll" and "private paradise" echoed in his head, making his stomach churn. They didn’t fit with the Maria he remembered. His Maria, full of life and laughter, had been an equal, not someone who could be reduced to such an object.

“I guess you’re right,” Ayrton said, forcing a casual tone, even as every fiber of his being screamed in protest. “People change.”

Jo laughed again, patting Ayrton on the shoulder. “Exactly. Don’t worry about it.”

As soon as Jo turned his attention elsewhere, Ayrton’s eyes found Maria’s once more. She was standing at the edge of the garage, her body tense, her eyes distant. The sight of her made his heart ache. What had happened to her?

Maria had always been so alive, so full of personality. This version of her seemed almost foreign, like a ghost of the woman he used to know.

It wasn’t just the physical changes. Sure, she had grown into herself, but it was more than that. It was in the way she moved, the way her eyes shifted, constantly looking around, searching for something or someone. She was no longer the carefree girl from their shared past.

Maria hadn’t come to the paddock for him, not really. She was here because of Jo, and she had no intention of rekindling old memories. Her posture was stiff, her eyes flicking nervously, never settling. Ayrton felt the weight of that discomfort in his chest. This wasn’t how he imagined seeing her again.

"An elder?" Jo’s voice broke through Ayrton’s thoughts, pulling him back to the moment. The tone was playful, but there was something off about it. He squeezed Maria's side, just like he had when they were teenagers, poking into her space with a familiarity that made Ayrton uncomfortable. "C’mon, Mariazinha, you’re better than that! I can't believe I'm seeing you again. What happened to your hair? You’ve changed so much!"

Maria’s eyes darkened, and her response was cold, detached. "Grew old, I guess."

Ayrton took a small step back, unsure of how to continue. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. There should have been more. More warmth, more recognition of the bond they once shared. But instead, there was this distance, this wall.

"Yes, could be it," Ayrton murmured. "How are you? How’s mamãe?" He used the term of endearment without thinking, but immediately regretted it. The word felt too intimate for the way things had turned out.

"Watching from above," Maria answered softly, her voice thick with an emotion Ayrton couldn’t place. She took a step away from him, eyes darting around as if looking for Jo.

Ayrton felt a pang of guilt. "I am so sorry," he said, reaching out to her but pulling back when he saw the way she flinched. "Was it... Was it recent? I passed by your house just last week."

Her eyes were cold now, and it stung. "Seven years ago."

Ayrton’s heart sank. He had missed so much. And Maria had been forced to pick up the pieces of a life that he had left behind.

"So, dad?" Ayrton asked, trying to change the subject, his mind reeling. "Bet you’re in England more these days, with Jo and everything."

Maria nodded, but her expression didn’t soften. "Yeah, I guess."

Ayrton noticed the tension in her shoulders, the way she couldn’t quite meet his eyes. There was something in the air between them, something thick and unresolved. "It’s weird, though," he said, trying to ease the situation. "I would’ve never guessed you’d grow into such a quiet adult. You were always so... vocal."

Maria's lips twitched. "I guess life has a way of changing things."

Her words stung, and Ayrton knew they were aimed at him. He had left her. He had walked away without a second thought. And now, all these years later, he was standing in front of a woman who had learned to live without him.

"You found a wife and left," she said, her voice tinged with bitterness. "It’s not like you stayed to know what I’d grow into."

Ayrton winced, his own guilt rising up to choke him. "Yeah, I... I deserve that." He ran a hand through his hair. "I made mistakes. But I’m really happy to see you again. Maybe we could catch up, catch up like old times?"

Maria didn't respond immediately, her gaze flicking toward Jo in the distance. She seemed to hesitate before shaking her head. "I don’t think so. You can’t just leave and come back when you feel like it. This is not how it works. I put my life together without you, and I don’t want to go through that again. It’s already too—" She paused, her throat tightening.

"Too what?" Ayrton pressed, his heart racing. "You put your life together with a fifty-year-old man who talks about you like you're a piece of meat? I don’t understand. I don’t think I’m the complicated part in this."

Maria stepped closer to him, her face flushed with frustration. "Aren’t you also fucking young blond women all around? Why is my life suddenly your business? Jo was here for me when you turned your back on me. I don’t care how he talks, or how complicated it is. He was the one who showed up for me when you didn’t."

Ayrton stood there, his mind racing, but all he could focus on was the bruise on her neck. It was dark, swollen, and fresh. Something inside him snapped.

"Maria... What the fuck?" He reached out to touch her, his hand trembling as he took in the full extent of the mark. "Is this ok? What the hell happened?"

Maria flinched as his fingers brushed the bruise, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she tried to cover it up, pulling her blazer back in place and stepping further away from him.

"I’m fine, stop acting like you care," she said, trying to sound convincing. But it didn’t fool Ayrton.

He couldn’t just stand there and pretend everything was fine. He wasn’t blind to what was happening. He wasn’t going to let this go.

But before he could say anything else, Jo appeared, his voice dripping with possessiveness. "Maria, my love. Looks like you’re catching up with your old friend, huh? I bet he wasn’t all that when you met."

Maria didn’t even look at him as she pulled away, muttering a quiet goodbye. "I’m going back to the hotel, alright? Meet me there, baby."

Jo gave a lazy wave, clearly disinterested, before turning his focus back on Ayrton. "Don’t you dare try anything between me and my girlfriend. You’re my driver, and I call the shots. It’s best you keep your distance from her."

Ayrton didn’t say anything. There was no point. Jo had made his stance clear. He just nodded, but inside, his mind was on Maria and the danger she was in.

"Copy."

It's not like anyone is in control of the situation. It's not like Ayrton could just close his eyes and get to sleep. It's past ten, and there’s no sign of sleep.

Facing Maria after so many years brought a scary amount of new things to the table. Things he thought he had buried as time passed and could live with that way.

But no. Just like his first year alone in the UK, right after Lilian, his wife at the time, dropped him saying she couldn’t keep up with this whole career thing. Just like when he caught himself thinking about how things would have been so different with Maria.

They had history, a background. High school lovebirds and childhood inseparable duo.

Ayrton remembered their weekends together, the ones when she was not traveling to her dad's house. The way she was so bad at speaking Portuguese and would always ask him for translations once he learned English. They took classes together throughout their whole childhood. They used to do everything together.

Karting, beach days, countryside days, summer travels. Birds of a feather, inseparable duo. All the shared birthday parties, the shared beds, breakfasts, school rides. High school years, teenage experiences.

It all seems to come back now. The best and the worst.

Because now Maria is hurt. Physically hurt, probably emotionally too. The sweetest girl he once knew is now hidden in layers of clothing and sharp answers.

It's impossible not to think about the what-ifs.

What if he never left her? What if he had proposed she move to the UK with him and not Lilian? She had a family there, maybe it would have worked out. What if he didn’t kiss her in his parent's backyard for one last time?

These are the type of things that keep men up at night, awake enough to go down to the hotel lobby to maybe get some tea and tire themselves out before sleeping.

As Ayrton descended to the hotel lobby, the dim lighting and soft hum of quiet conversations brought a strange sense of calm. He wasn’t expecting anyone to be there, let alone her.

But there she was, sitting on a leather armchair near the bar, staring at a half-empty glass of wine like it held all the answers to her life.

His feet moved before his brain could stop him. "Maria?"

She startled slightly, her eyes snapping up to meet his. For a second, Ayrton saw the girl he used to know—soft, wide-eyed, and vulnerable. But it disappeared as quickly as it came, replaced by the guarded, distant woman she had become.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voice low and tired.

"Couldn’t sleep," he admitted, sliding into the armchair beside her. "And you?"

She scoffed, swirling the wine in her glass. "Guess I couldn’t either."

The silence between them felt heavy, weighed down by years of unresolved feelings and the awkwardness of their earlier conversation. Ayrton couldn’t help but notice how she sat, her posture tense, as if ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble.

"Maria," he started softly, leaning forward, "I need to ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me."

She froze, her fingers tightening around the glass.

"Are you okay?"

"Why wouldn’t I be?"

"Coming from what I saw earlier..." he said carefully, his eyes never leaving hers. "And the way you flinched when I tried to touch you. Maria, you don’t have to pretend with me."

Her lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, she looked away, her gaze fixed on the floor. "It’s not what you think."

"It’s exactly what I think," Ayrton said, his tone firm but not unkind. "I’ve known you my whole life, Maria. You don’t have to say it, but I see it. And I know you don’t deserve it."

She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. "What do you know about what I deserve, Ayrton? You left. You walked away like I was nothing. You don’t get to come back now and act like you care."

"I never stopped caring," he said, his voice breaking slightly. "I was stupid, Maria. I made mistakes. But I swear to you, if I’d known—"

"You didn’t," she interrupted, her tone sharp. "You didn’t know because you didn’t stay."

He fell silent, his guilt weighing heavily on him. She had every right to be angry, and he had no defense. But he couldn’t walk away from her again, not now.

"Let me fix it," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "Whatever it takes, Maria. Just let me help you."

She looked at him then, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "There's nothing to fix, Ayrton. You can’t undo what’s already been done."

"Maybe not," he admitted, "but I can give you a way out. You don’t have to stay with him. You don’t have to live like this."

Maria swallowed hard, her hands trembling as she set the glass down. "It’s not how it works, Ayrton, this is not-"

"It is," Ayrton insisted. "You just have to trust me."

A few days later, the team had planned an evening out—a casual dinner to celebrate a successful race weekend. Maria had reluctantly agreed to join, knowing Jo would insist on her presence. Ayrton was there too, his eyes never straying far from her.

Throughout the evening, Jo’s behavior was increasingly abrasive. He held her arm tightly when guiding her to their table, his fingers digging into her skin. He interrupted her when she spoke, belittling her opinions with condescending remarks. Ayrton watched it all, his jaw tightening with every interaction.

The breaking point came when Jo grabbed her wrist in the middle of a conversation, yanking her back toward him. "Stop wandering off," he snapped, his tone low but menacing.

Maria winced, her free hand instinctively moving to cover her wrist. That's not much of him—acting that way where everyone could see it. "Jo," she said evenly, her voice trying to stay calm but laced with a tiny sign of desperation. "Not now."

Promptly, her eyes darted to Ayrton, as if something inside knew he'd be looking. And there he was.

The thing is, Maria isn't the only one who noticed that.

Jo smirked, releasing her as if nothing had happened. "Relax, Ayrton. She’s fine."

But Ayrton wasn’t fooled. His eyes locked with Maria’s, silently communicating what words couldn’t. Later, when the group began to disperse, he caught her arm gently, steering her toward a quiet corner of the parking lot.

"You don’t have to go back with him," he said, his voice urgent. "Get in my car. I’ll take you somewhere safe."

She hesitated, her eyes darting around as if expecting Jo to appear out of nowhere. "I can’t just leave. He’ll—"

"I don’t care what he’ll do," Ayrton interrupted. "You’re not staying with him another night, Maria. I won’t let you."

Her lips trembled, tears spilling over as she whispered, "It's not like... It's not like I can just leave."

"It is," Ayrton said, his voice softening. He cupped her face gently, his thumbs brushing away her tears. "But you’re not alone. I’m here, Maria. I’ve got you."

For a moment, she just stared at him, the weight of her fear and pain threatening to consume her. But then she nodded, a small, shaky movement that sealed her decision.

"Okay," she whispered.

Without another word, Ayrton led her to his car, opening the passenger door for her. As they drove away, the city lights fading behind them, Maria felt a strange sense of relief. For the first time in years, she wasn’t running away—she was being saved.

The sound of the sea outside Ayrton’s beach house was a gentle hum, blending seamlessly with the rhythmic clink of a knife against a cutting board. Maria sat across from him in the kitchen, chopping fruit for a simple breakfast. Ayrton, leaning casually against the counter, pretended to be busy with a task, though his eyes kept drifting to her.

There’s no race this weekend, and he felt like they could use a break. She would never deny a good beach weekend, and it only took a flight.

"This is just like old times," she said softly, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Except now, you’re actually helping instead of sneaking bites every five minutes."

He grinned, playfully snatching a slice of mango from her plate. "Old habits die hard, don’t they?"

She swatted his hand away, laughing lightly, and for a moment, the heaviness that had lingered between them since that night at the hotel seemed to lift.

"So," he started, his tone deliberately casual, "how did you end up in... all of this? I mean, I know about your mom, but... Jo?"

Her smile faltered, and she set the knife down, her fingers idly tracing the edge of the cutting board. "I left Brazil not long after she passed. It was... too much. The house felt empty, and São Paulo didn’t feel like home anymore. I thought a fresh start would help. Then I moved in with Dad, in London."

Ayrton nodded, his expression softening. "Makes sense. You wanted to escape the memories."

Of course! Here's the complete passage, maintaining the original dialogues:

She looked up at him, her eyes glassy but steady. “Exactly. But I didn’t realize that running away wouldn’t fix anything. Jo came into my life when I was at my weakest. He knew what to say, how to act... At first, it felt like he was saving me. I didn’t see it for what it was until it was too late.”

His jaw tightened, and his hands clenched the edge of the counter. “You deserved so much more than that, Maria.”

She offered a sad smile. “I thought I did too. But by the time I realized who he really was, I didn’t know how to get out.”

There was a long pause, filled only by the distant crash of waves. Ayrton walked around the counter and sat beside her, his shoulder brushing hers. “You don’t have to go through that again,” he said quietly. “Not ever.”

Maria looked at him, her eyes searching his face. “You’ve always been like this, haven’t you? Saying just the right thing to make me feel... safe.”

He smirked, leaning in slightly. “It’s a gift. Though I recall you used to say I talked too much.”

She laughed, a genuine sound that made his chest tighten, in the best of ways. “You did. You still do.”

Their laughter faded, leaving a charged silence between them. Ayrton’s hand was on the table, so close to hers that their fingers nearly touched. For a fleeting moment, he thought about closing the gap, about leaning in, about finally—

Maria shifted, clearing her throat and breaking the spell. “We should finish this before the fruit turns to mush.”

Ayrton exhaled sharply, a mix of frustration and amusement. “Right. Breakfast. Very important.”

Later, the sun was dipping low over the horizon when they found themselves on the beach. Maria walked ahead of him, her bare feet sinking into the sand, until she reached the water’s edge. She sat where the waves kissed the shore, her knees pulled to her chest, her arms wrapped around them.

Ayrton stopped a few paces behind her, watching. She always used to do this — sit right where the ocean seemed to meet her. She used to say it made her feel small, but in a good way. Like her problems couldn’t possibly be bigger than the vast sea stretching out before her.

“You’re still doing that,” he said as he sat down beside her.

She glanced at him, her hair tousled by the breeze. “Doing what?”

“Sitting here like this. You’ve always loved the water.”

Maria shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips. “Some things don’t change, I guess.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the sound of the waves filling the space between them. Ayrton shifted closer, his shoulder brushing hers.

“You know,” he began, his voice low and steady, “I wasn’t there for you when I should’ve been. But I swear, Maria, I won’t let anything like Jo happen again. Not as long as I’m around.”

She turned to him, her eyes wide and shining with something he couldn’t quite name. “Ayrton...”

He reached up, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. The gesture was so simple, so natural, that it felt like slipping back into something they’d never really left behind. Slowly, he leaned in, their foreheads almost touching.

This time, Maria didn’t pull away. Their lips met in a kiss that was soft, hesitant, yet filled with unspoken promises. When they parted, Ayrton rested his forehead against hers, his hand still lingering near her face.

“Things can change,” he murmured. “We can change.”

Maria smiled, the first real, unguarded smile he’d seen from her in years. “Maybe they can.”

They stayed there, the waves crashing softly around them, as the sun sank below the horizon, painting the sky with hues of orange and pink.

ʚïɞ check my masterlist 〃 drop a request 〃 featuring ayrton! ʚïɞ ayrtonswnna, 2025

[ladysunbite]

The sudden rush of power grips her body, clawing it, digging into it, unable to find a proper hold, not knowing what she is. Panic ripples under her eyelids. For a moment there is nothing but one colour, so bright it is like absence of any colour. no Snow, no sunlight, no emeralds. Absence of anything. Perfect, unalive world, the image of which her mad apa thunchultha tried to impose upon her as the ultimate ecstasy.

The immaculate human dress is ready to be shed, shreddered by the sudden onslaught of void. Orianna opens her mouth to screech. Velvet. Candle vax, slightly scented of orange groves. The little witcher's skin. She is in her own bedchamber. The scream never came, nor did her human visage crack, letting the obscenities of fear emerge. Her fangs merely pierced her lower lips, the only point where the alabaster control of hers gave way to a crack. The sun-eyed wraps her arms around Ciri's waist, more tight than is necessarily, eager to taste, to feel, to become a part of something throbbing, marked and imperfect. Alive. "More human, you said..." her head buried in the crook of the grey-haired's maiden neck, she tasted sweat and snowflakes, such common and delicious things. The blood, tainted with potions and magic, sang to her despite all the calculations. But now, back in her lair, the cultured vampiress could be both the beast and the maiden. The marks her fangs would leave can be cleaned with herbs, and bandaged in soft cloth until there was not even a memory of it left at the young skin. If her blood rejects the little witcher's essence, she has a place she can wait out the post-effects in safety. Pleading, shaking excuses her mind sighed in her ears, as Orianna licks the Ciri's little bird of breath from her mouth, painted crimson by her own blood. "I can guess how your blood will taste like, without even breaking into your body," the hunger of the grey-haired maiden was heard and recognized, and Orianna wanted to drive it out again, to see what creature hid in the depths of hers. Gasp by gasp and plead by plead. It was a necessary cure after that shock to her nerves; the recent rituals must have turned her more keen to the alien magic, it had never closed upon her with such intensity. Or was it her companion's fault, her hitching breath, her pleading wide gaze, her blossoming scent choking every pretense of humanity and normality in Orianna's body, urging to let go and to drain, to devour, to obsess over every morsel of flesh and mind?

"A little bit more heavy than a prefer. Smoke and sunlight, tart fruits, the air heavy with an approaching storm. Such bouquet gets into your head quicker than you can appreciate the taste to the full..." the cold marble-like body moved slowly beneath Ciri, a leg wrapping around her waist to keep her in place, consuming every bit of warmth of her skin, watching every shiver with the gaze overflowing with the bright sun of Toussaint. Cupping Ciri's head between her beautiful, bejewelled, perfectly human-like hands, Orianna brought her down into a deep kiss, biting the lower lips of hers with feral tenderness, until the thick, almost scalding, pulsing liquid dripped over her moon-like, cold fangs. "Like Est-Est of 1251. A year of many thunderstorms." @fallesto

But this little witcher was not one to be swayed by mere caution. "Your fangs tell a different story, Orianna, but I am glad you showed me something" she whispered, her voice a warm summer's breeze. The young witcher's eyes searched Orianna's, a silent invitation dancing in her gaze, the smell of her blood grew richer, sweeter, the pulse in her neck thrumming a seductive rhythm. She offered her wrist, the vein pulsing gently, a crimson line begging to be kissed.

“Your more human than you like to admit.” The thrill of the chase receding, the hunger for something more primal stirring within her. Her eyes narrowed, the pupils dilating, the emerald hue shinning. She knew the vampire held the feeling the heat of the blood beneath the surface, the tantalizing scent of life itself. Her heart skipped a beat, the anticipation a sweet symphony.

As the witcher leaned in once more, feeling Orianna's hand cupped the young witcher's breast with a gentle firmness, the fabric of witchers furs and shirt the only barrier between skin and the cold embrace of a predator's touch. Her breath hitched, and Orianna felt the girl's pulse quicken, the beat of her heart resonating through her chest. The vampire's thumb brushed over the erect nipple, and the warmth that emanated from it was almost a siren's call.

Their eyes locked, the witchers emerald gaze a swirl of desire and trepidation. The moment stretched like a bowstring, taut with anticipation. The world around them melted away, leaving only the sound of their ragged breaths and the throb of life beneath the vampiress's fingertips.

“We should go then.”

With a sudden surge of power, her eyes blazed with the light of the first hour of winter, and she teleported them both from the precarious tower perch. They reappeared with a soft thud on the plush velvet of the chamber's bed, the candles flickering in surprise at their sudden relocation. The air in the room grew thick with the scent of lust and ancient power, as if the very walls had a heartbeat that matched their own.

The witcher's body was a warm cocoon around Orianna, her breath a gentle whisper of need against the vampiress's neck. Her arms were tight around her, and the pressure of her legs against Orianna's own sent a thrill through her body, setting her nerves alight. The coldness of the vampire's skin was a stark contrast to her warmth, a delicious reminder of the differences that lay between them.

[beemintty]

ok ok do a quiz on what greek god you are. I just confirmed that my girlfriend --the love of my life-- is indeed my soulmate.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The girls are plottinggggg

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[undead-moth]

I know I've been on about this for a while now and I'm being a hater but you're telling me SydCarmy was "always meant to be platonic" even though there are two seasons of writing making use of tried-and-true explicitly romantic tropes, themes and writing signals, and SydLuca is going to be romantic because...he was nice to her on screen for a few minutes?

I don't even care if people ship SydLuca, or if they just prefer it, but you can't honestly tell me that you believe Carmy was always meant to be a friend but Luca is an obvious love interest.

Just because Syd and Carmy haven't kissed or confessed their love to each other doesn't mean that isn't very obviously the direction this show is going. The Bear has already shown you who is endgame. It has shown you every episode of the show so far.

Honestly I really don't think The Bear fanbase understands this show or cares about these characters or the story being told here, which is unfortunate because this show is shockingly well-written in comparison to most shows right now, and we should be so grateful for it but all we're doing is complaining that the writers led us on by not making a ship canon fast enough. It's just. Sad.

[tenwhiteandalusians]

is episode 8 the domitian arc ? more on this and EVEN MORE narratives i’ve been ignoring that the show said “actually,,,” about in 5

[laniidae-passerine]

decided that in my own personal canon, Santiago’s maker looked similar to Louis, simply because Ben Daniels stated that Santiago was very likely in love with his maker. and wouldn’t it be some kind of torture to fall in love with the man who murdered your first vampiric love? to then watch him fall in love with another, who bears an eerie resemblance to that first love? to be witness to something tender and affectionate blooming, every moment a memory of how none of those you’ve adored have ever wanted you back? it would be agony. it would be torture. god, you would just hate them to pieces, loathing even as you loved them. and you wouldn’t know peace - not until the whole pack of them learnt the horror of love, just as you have.

[7-oh-ta1]

When I see ppl hating on king rhoam i start blacking out and seeing visions

[hauntingblue]

This volume is called ace's introduction. Nothing more to say.

"You hire comedians here?" He is so funny....

Who's gonna tell him..... He literally will never get a break

Ace being so proud of Luffy not accepting to join and being a little shit... Also right here is where I got ROBBED of my acesan content.... Also he does fight whitebeard... In marineford... GOD!!!!!

GOOOD TAKE ME INSTEAD!!!! TAKE MEEEE!!!! AAAAHHHHHHHH

You cannot see me but I am on the floor on my knees and I am crying and sobbing and hitting my chest asking the gods to spare him