#these are literally the people I dislike so much and vow to not do why is it like that

[thecranewivesrpf]

now in addition to telling me to kms voice in he back of my brain is also telling me I'm r slur-ed. what the fuck 😭

[jo-harrington]

Charitas. (An As Above, So Below Story)

Gratia. Charitas. Solamen. Grace. Charity. Peace. The oath of the Knights of the Holy Order.

Summary: You and Eddie--separated by time and endless suffering--don't realize how many strings keep you connected on the web of fate. What players are there trying to cut those strings? And when will you both find out that they are unbreakable?

Word Count: 3.7k

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!OC (The Knight - Written in 2nd Person POV - You/Your - No Use of Names of Physical Descriptors)

Warnings/Themes: Soulmates, Kas!Eddie, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Grief, Minor Character Deaths, Manipulation, Transformation, Corruption, Supernatural Encounters, Religious Elements, Discussion/Criticism of Religion, Biblical and Other Literary and Pop Culture References

Note: Sorry this one has taken forever. The next part is already written, just gotta clean it up. Shouting out @powderblueblood and @rosewaterandivy for being my fellow media vacuums and not only enabling me to do this/what's next but also Powder specifically for her love of the Archie-verse because CAoS is one of my favorites and why would I not let the Knight get a chance to face Faustus Blackwood one on one while also maybe alluding to The VVitch and criticizing religion even more?

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

“But the rage passes and leaves no trace behind.” ― Rainer Maria Rilke, Sonnets to Orpheus

November 12, 1986

You'd developed a dislike for small towns.

Hawkins might still be home in some ways, but it was more because of the people who had lived there--the memories--than the town itself. But it, too, fell into the category of small towns that you'd grown to hate:

Small, unassuming places that held some kind of dark, terrible, dangerous secret. Atrocities in the making.

You'd walked into Hawkins fully oblivious to the monsters that lurked there, though.

Here and now, with Greendale, you were almost too aware.

Jinette had entirely too much to say about it and that unsettled you.

Strange energies and missing children and sudden turns of fortune for seemingly innocent townspeople. Rituals performed in the woods and a possible portal straight to hell.

"I'll knock on the door," you joked as you read through a report he'd provided about the Greendale Mines. "Maybe I'll get some kind of time off for good behavior if I hand Satan my soul in person, instead of waiting to die for him to take it."

Jinette ignored you; jokes were lost on the clergy.

Instead of a lecture though, he simply gave you a warning: to be on the lookout for witches.

"Thought the Order vowed not to discriminate against religions," you'd scoffed at him. He ignored you again and just sent you on your way.

The Order against discrimination? Sure. The Catholic Church? Definitely not. And Jinette? The most judgmental bastard of all.

Still, his warning was front and center as you felt an unnatural, chilling frequency of magic in the air upon your arrival in Greendale.

"Let's get this over with," you slammed the door shut and shouldered your backpack so you could start investigating.

Greendale was nice enough--it had that hazy, natural beauty of the late fall that was synonymous with upstate New York--and if you weren't in such a sour mood, you probably would've enjoyed it. This stage of your work was always somewhat fun. Talking to people and learning local histories, seeing different buildings as you walked around, eating a little lunch at some hole-in-the-wall off-the-beaten-path type of place.

But you were surrounded by ghosts. Both literal and figurative.

Someone died on that street corner, heart stopped cold as though someone had stuck a pin in it.

There was a bakery that had apricot kołaczkis; not Italian but still one of Nonna's favorites.

The dentists office used to belong to a serial killer who'd never been caught; the spirits of his victims rapped on the little window at street-level, begging to be let out even decades later.

Cerberus Books was a beacon for classic horror with neon lights and mannequins dressed as monsters in the windows...and Eddie would have loved it.

You fought the urge to flinch as you felt the phantom feeling of his hand in yours, his voice in your ear urging you to go inside and look around.

You closed your eyes and took several calming breaths to clear your mind. Little by little those ghosts were banished and you'd regained your cool, your focus.

If the Order wanted you to be a weapon, you would be one. You'd break whatever darkness lurked in Greendale and then onto the next job, and the next one, and the next one. Until you could go home. Your real home.

Then you wouldn't need to rely on ghosts anymore.

Or fear them.

Your world was knocked off its axis as someone exited Cerberus Books and crashed into you. Even moreso as a surge of unearthly, dark power clashed with your heavenly one, and you fought the urge to tap into that power to repel the intruding force away from you.

The man that crashed into you grabbed your shoulders to steady you before you fell, and you breathed in the smoke-and-brimstone tinged air that surrounded him. It was suffocating and further tapped into that instinct towards defensiveness.

But as you regained your bearing, all you could see was how unassuming he looked.

Truly, his visage belied that imposing aura--a kind older man in a suit and fedora, with neatly-trimmed facial hair, and a gentle smile--but you could sense that he was a witch, just as he sensed you were...

What were you?

He held you there for a moment and you watched as his brow quirked. He read you, just as you read him. A mutual discovery. Tenuous, so as not to alarm one another, but curious.

Although naturally adverse, you could sense no danger to each other.

"I'm so sorry," he apologized softly. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

"N-No, no," you insisted. "I was caught up in my head, it's my fault."

"You're...new to Greendale." he stated.

"Just driving through," you answered, an excuse that was well-used in the past few years. This time you had a feeling you meant it. "Maybe sticking around for a few days."

"The diner has a great cherry pie."

"Cherry's my boyfriend's favorite."

"Is he traveling with you?"

Yes.

It was on the tip of your tongue. Because yes, actually he was just here with you. The memory of him, the ghost of him. You wished he was, and maybe that was enough to make him real.

Maybe that was enough so this witch felt him.

"No," you said instead. "It's just me."

His gaze softened as you continued to study each other. You held out your hand to him.

"Anyway, I should get going," you told him and you held out your hand to shake. "Thank you for the recommendation, and sorry again Mr..."

"Spellman," he replied, hands letting go of your shoulders so he could shake yours, but his words were like a shot to your heart. "Edward Spellman."

November 6, 1983

Henry was an observer, a thinker, a visionary.

He took care of them, offered mercy when he wasn't required to. He simply demanded obedience in return for all that he provided for his children in the Upside Down.

But for some reason beyond understanding, chaos had broken out.

And he was livid.

Eddie stood tall and received the images that his master filtered through his mind; strange growths, riotous creatures, and the partial reformation of the beast that Henry himself gave life to: the Mindflayer.

All with a will of their own.

"You must fix this," Henry demanded of his right hand, his general. "You must restore order."

The efforts of the physical communication winded him, as he was still fragile and healing from the attack by Eleven's friends, so he continued to relay unspoken demands through the collective consciousness. He strained to spread his authority as far through the dimension as he could.

Destroy the malcontents or you shall be destroyed.

A warning not just for Eddie, but for any of the creatures that resided under his rule to reconsider their rebellion before they met their demise.

Then came a jarring mental image of a wasteland of bodies, torn apart but still writhing and alive. The pain that would come in the wake of any betrayal would be immense, and he would keep all of them alive for as long as he saw fit to extend their suffering.

No Gods or devils could enact the devastation he could, if only they tested him.

"Does that mean you too?" you sowed doubt inside of him. "The destruction? What would happen if you didn't listen?"

Eddie stiffened as he felt the tug of your presence at the corner of his mind, hidden in that deep, dark pit. A spark amidst the void. He growled, both in acceptance of Henry's orders and to silence you.

"Do you know what this reminds me of?" He fought the urge to twitch under Henry's all-knowing gaze as you continued. "The Emperor. And Vader. Do you remember Return of the Jedi?"

His mind was a flurry of images again, these vague and distant though, twining with the ones that Henry had just relayed to him: spaceships and planets and furry little creatures, and Vader towering over Luke--

"Do you question me?" Henry snapped at him, gnarled body shaking with the effort. Eddie's eyes focused on his master once more. "Beast?"

He ducked his head and growled again. Grumbled. Repentant in his errors.

"Question him," you hissed, emboldened to no longer stay buried and hidden in the pit but slithering along his skin. Unseen, but acutely felt. "Do it. What's happening? Why are they rebelling? Ask him."

He let the growl turn into a roar, a battle cry and a warning to keep you silent. He then took to the air, determined to succeed in snuffing out this insurgent blight that had taken root in the Upside Down.

His master needed him, relied on him.

He wouldn't fail.

No matter how much you tempted him to.

November 14, 1986

To find witches, one often had to think like a witch.

Though the term witch when it came to those who practiced magic was just as broad as the term Abrahamic when it came to some of the so-called “major” religions of the world. One of your fellow Knights considered themselves a witch, more of a polytheist with an affinity for Hecate, but they derived their abilities from nature.

Technically you did too, your powers rooted as deep within the earth as they were tied to the Heavens.

Maybe it was all the same? Or maybe it was all bullshit.

The type of witch that you were looking for though, the type that Edward Spellman was, was something else. Dark rituals, blood curses, deals with demons, names signed in books, machinations with The Devil himself.

“Arthur Miller was popping a boner somewhere right now,” you muttered.

You supposed it felt a little unsettling, but less in a way that made you fearful, and more in the way that oil floated on water. Similar, both liquids, just...not meant to mix.

Which is why you kept yourself calm and open minded.

"I'm not here to kill them," you reminded yourself. "Find out why innocents are disappearing...stop them, maybe...but they'll carry on unharmed."

Truly, you could have just followed Edward Spellman as he went about his business in town, but you figured that that would have probably been as suspicious and rude as you could get.

That's why you enacted your own sort of a tracking spell.

Witches didn't always move in the world like mortals did; they transmuted, teleported, moved along the shadows cast by clouds and trees and blades of grass.

But if you reached out…asked the clouds and trees and grass to show you what they’d seen? Well, then it would be impossible for them to stay hidden.

So you walked.

Left your car at the motel and set foot into the lush forests surrounding Greendale, letting instinct guide you.

The further away from town you got, the more unruly your surroundings became, until you ended up following an old, overgrown set of railroad tracks deeper into the wilderness. Bats or birds--you couldn't quite tell--flew overhead; omens of some sort urging you to give up and go back to safety.

"How bad could it be?" you asked aloud, only to skid to a halt as something larger and shadowy crossed your path ahead.

Once again, you couldn't make out what it was, but the energy it left behind felt dangerous and smokey, an ephemeral stain of dark magic.

You took a calming breath and clenched your fists, ready for whatever you might find, and soldiered on.

Eventually, the treeline thinned, and power lines sprung up along the track, and then a structure. Large, looming, and made of stone and glass; it was overgrown with dead ivy and surrounded by tall, dry grasses.

Gehenna Station.

You scoffed at the name, at the implication, but the longer you observed the structure, the more you felt the underlying darkness that churned within. In fact, the longer you stared, the less sure you seemed to feel of the building's existence itself. Your eyes started to lose focus of the structure; your perception wavered, almost like it didn't want you to know that it was there.

Maybe it wasn't even there at all?

"Good afternoon Miss."

You whirled on your heel, ready to defend yourself, only to find a young boy standing there. His eyes were large, cheeks round and soft, and there was a small smile on his lips; kindness and innocence emanated from him, but also a deep sadness.

It didn't take long for you to realize that he was dead.

"You don't belong here," he stated matter-of-factly. "You should go."

"I'm here to help," you told him instead. There was no duplicity when it came to ghosts; they could see through you, no pun intended. "Kids are dying. Kids like you. Can you tell me what happened? I can try to stop it and find you some peace."

His brow furrowed, and he pouted.

Then he held his hand out to you, palm upwards for you to lay your own hand in his small grasp. You hesitated for a moment, but gave in.

He was solid and your hand didn't sink through his form like you expected. But as your palms touched, you saw.

A dank cell illuminated by the moonlight with sights that would drive one insane.

A desolate forest full of dead trees and a clawed beast that slunk unseen.

And a looming tree laden with thirteen rotten apples and a swinging noose.

The Harrowing. And it truly was as it's name described, as you watched one child after another succumb to the trials.

You blinked and the images were gone, but the sound of screaming still rang in your ears.

"It's always been this way, Miss," the boy said sadly as he pulled his hand away again. "You can't help us. No one can."

Something burned in your chest at his words, the finality of it, the acceptance of this fate. How many times had you heard that from your father or Jinette or the other Knights? This is the way it always would be. Cycles. Downward spirals.

You'd already decided that that would end with you.

This would too.

"The hell I can't."

You let go of the boy's hand, turned back towards Gehenna Station, and started walking.

Every step felt heavier and heavier, but you proceeded onwards until the doors of the building opened of their own volition and then slammed shut behind you once you were inside.

November 6, 1983

Eddie soared over the vast landscape of the Upside Down alone.

He had gotten used to flying with legions of bats at his sides, wings beating in tandem. It was a euphoric experience to be with them. Be one with them. To dip and roll, swarm, and even play.

He tried calling out to them through the bond—

Help me, the master demands your cooperation, your obedience.

—but there was no response. Not even a reluctant one.

It was irritating. He was leader after Henry, for all intents and purposes. Even their friend in some cases, their own flesh and blood.

Why wouldn't they come at his call?

He could feel them. Some waiting in the trees, cowering. Some were tempted to fly with him, soar with him, safe with him in the lead.

But there was something in the air that stopped them from answering the call.

A strange sense of foreboding, a shift in the presence of the dimension itself. A change in frequency, in the fragile balance of control that Henry had over everything.

Even the particles floating around him didn’t seem right.

“Are you sure he’s in control?” you whispered deep within him. “Are you sure Vecna is telling you the truth?”

Of course, you were still there clinging to the edges of the pit inside of him, snatching at his thoughts like the parasite you were.

He curled his lip and growled at you again, willing you to be silent. But you simply refused. Whispering worries and warnings.

It was curious how your tone had changed. You seemed weaker here. Unsure. In contrast to how you’d been earlier in his master’s presence. There was a tenuous quality to you now.

He had considered, more than once, that you were some machination of Henry’s. To weed out the disloyalty in him. A little remnant of his humanity to taunt him and tempt him. A test.

But even with unhindered access to Eddie’s mind, there were simply things Henry couldn’t be bothered with. Memory, emotion, humanity. Those were all things he sought to destroy when he created the perfect weapon.

All of the things that you tried to bring out of him.

“Be careful,” were the final words slithering from you before you went silent once again.

He scoffed despite the pang in the hollow space where his heart should be.

Careful.

That was another indicator that you couldn’t possibly be of Henry’s design.

Careful wasn’t in his nature anymore.

Had it ever been, though? Even when he was alive, even when he was truly Eddie Munson, had he ever been cautious or careful? If he had been, he wouldn’t have brought Chrissy Cunningham to his trailer that fateful night.

Then he wouldn’t have shed that fragile body and become something greater.

This was fate.

He could feel you scoff at the thought now, and he grinned ferally, hoping his great and dark destiny would keep you quiet.

His wings beat harder, propelled him faster, motivated by the thought of some peace and quiet from you. At the prospect of being his master’s great weapon and champion.

He preened so hard, he didn’t realize how human the action actually was.

Until he crossed some seemingly invisible threshold, some metaphorical membrane made up of static electricity, that made everything go quiet.

The constant buzz of the hive mind was suddenly gone, thousands of consciousnesses silent, and his body seized momentarily as he reacted to the tangible loss.

Everything felt harder to do--breathing, thinking, feeling--and he went into freefall.

Down he went. Falling and flailing, air whipping about him. If he thought flying had been a freeing feeling, falling was another kind of freedom; something deep down and dark inside of him welcomed it, the prospect of a hard and fast demise.

But as his eyes drooped closed, the phantom feeling of your hands grasped at him, encircled his torso and willed him to take flight once more. Your phantasmic voice sounded underwater to his uncooperative ears, to his non-existent soul, as you screamed for him.

“Eddie!” His name brought him back into focus as hands grasped his face. Your invisible touch was electric and abruptly brought the world back into focus. “Eddie, wake up!”

He gasped a breath as your spark kickstarted his reflexes, but it was simply too late. He crashed heavily into the ground, barreling through the earth, until he came to a halt.

His body, unbreakable, seemingly bent with the impact. His ears rang, he couldn’t move, couldn’t think.

There was a distinct absence of being.

An absence of everything.

But he swore, before he lost himself, he saw the impossible.

He saw your face.

November 14, 1986

The inside of Gehenna Station was exactly what you expected.

That is to say, it was nothing that you expected; you had expected the unexpected.

If you reached out with your consciousness, you felt...a vast infinity. Halls that led everywhere, rooms of an unimaginable quantity. No wonder the outside of the building felt as if it wasn't there, because it really wasn't. This pocket reality was folded inside of it.

And what this pocket reality was, was a school.

A suspiciously empty school.

There were empty classrooms and hallways, an auditorium with a slide projector showing a list of incantations on a screen at the front, a cafeteria with trays of abandoned lunches.

You explored and searched--looking for someone, anyone--until you found yourself back in the main atrium, before a statue of a man with a goat's head and lower body, winged, with two fingers pointed up and two pointing down, surrounded by statues of children.

Baphomet.

"Interesting," you muttered as you encircled it.

You'd think a place like this, a place of satanic witches, would have some kind of idolatry towards Satan himself. Traditional depictions of devils and demons, maybe even some kind of artistic imagery of the archangel Lucifer?

Not this.

Your thoughts raced.

Hadn't you just contemplated your fellow Knights and their differences of beliefs outside? Yes. And that was where the mystery of this school and these witches remained. Everything had meaning; imagery like this had meaning, words had meaning.

Gehenna had ties to Hell and eternal suffering, places of divine punishment, and yet this was a school. A place for children to learn and grow. And Baphomet? People often mistook it for something sinister but Baphomet symbolized balance, the equilibrium of opposites; as above, so below and all that. Equal light and darkness inside everyone and everything. Peace at finding a balance with it. Equality in all and for all.

How could a statue that depicted children, trusting and reverent, stand for an institution that killed kids?

You supposed that the contradictions found here were akin to those in your own beliefs; how the church was supposed to be merciful, but you only found wickedness--like Jinette...like yourself--tied to it. That's how you were in this mess in the first place; someone using God as a justification to kill and steal.

"Guess all religions are shit," you snorted.

That's why you needed to find out what was actually happening here and stop it.

Unfortunately, in your rumination, you'd let your guard down.

You felt it before you saw it, the slide of your sneaker on the uneven floor. When you looked down to investigate, the tiles--made to look like a thousand eyes--began to fall away right under you.

The last thing you did before the floor beneath you disappeared and you fell into some dark oblivion wasn't an attempt to save yourself or find something to hang onto.

Instead you snorted and thought:

Guess the whole thing about being delivered right to Satan wasn't such a joke after all.

"I am good, but not an angel. I do sin, but I am not the devil." — Marilyn Monroe

[violetlunette]

So idk why the trope ‘Inko is a bad guardian’ is even a thing. She not perfect but she literally tried to be there for Izuku and always worry about his safety. She literally tried to take care of Izuku when he was quirkless in a society that views quirkless people below them. She literally stressed eat because of how guilty she feels like if anything she better than 90% of animated parents in some shows

I think I touched on that else where to why Inko’s hated in fanfiction.

As for Canon, the main complaint I’ve seen from Inko detractors is that they dislike how Inko didn’t do anything about Bakagou’s bullying. However, there’s no indication she knew about the bullying. (Unlike the two dad figures who saw the bullying firsthand and even had video evidence and decided to do shit about it.)

But I agree with you. She’s not perfect, but she tries her best.

She admits her regrets for not supporting Izuku’s dream but vows to support him going forward, which she does:

She made him his first Hero costume, even designing it the exact same way he sketched it. Then, when the UA boarding discussion came up, she not only called out ALL MIGHT and, by extension, UA for their neglect of her son, but still kept to her word. She swore to support Izuku’s dream to become a hero, and she does; she just asks him to consider another school.

Inko has her flaws, as she’s a very timid person with anxiety, as those two things influence her actions at times. But she’s not a bad mother and is very loving towards her son.

Honestly, this sweet woman gets too much hate and deserves better.

Thanks for sending in the ask!

[prodigal-explorer]

speaking of your turn to die i need your turn to die mutuals you don't understand it's a need

so here are some your turn to die opinions and if you agree with them i'd love to be your homie! i promise i have lots of headcanons and goofy jokes and badly constructed essays.

spoilers for your turn to die up to 3-1b!

my top favorite characters of all time are reko, nao, kai, and jou! honorable mentions are kanna, gin, q-taro, sara, and shin!

i'm honestly not a massive fan of any of the floor masters or dolls in 3-1 purely because i feel like i didn't get the chance to know them well. it's a real shame too because i think they're super cool! just not quite fleshed out enough to my liking. i'm hoping we at least learn more about the floor masters in the finale because they have the potential to be so interesting!

i don't really like shipping in your turn to die, i kinda think it's unnecessary (though i don't hate on people who do ship!), but if i had to pick a ship i like, it would be reko x nao! i think it could be cute, and they have a lot of sweet moments in the game!

my favorite part of your turn to die to play is hands down 2-1. those attractions are so much fun! and all the mystery is insane, the part with the fake mishima ai was INSANEE. i also really liked 3-1 because of the part where you use the lantern to uncover people's memories about hiyori and asu-naro. it was so cool to get a glimpse of people's pasts!

to be honest i'm kind of a noob so i can never get it straight which route is logic is which is emotion (even though it's probably really obvious), but my favorite route is the one where kanna and reko live! i watched a playthrough of a route where shin lives but i didn't really like it as much, even though it was interesting to see that side of it!

this isn't really an opinion, just a confession, but i'm really dumb and really bad at the logic stuff so i lowkey thought it was impossible to save reko for the first like three years of playing the game...i figured it out though!

i've never once used a walkthrough to figure out your turn to die, i've always just used my own brain to figure things out. maybe...uh...maybe in hindsight, that's why it took me so long to figure out how to save reko...

the only character in the entire franchise that i genuinely dislike is keiji. i just think he's kinda creepy and off-putting (though that might be in part due to translation errors)? also i'm lesbian so i don't really find him hot i think he just looks like a muscly piece of popcorn.

in terms of my opinion on who the "mastermind" is i actually have literally no idea? the only idea i kind of have is that it's either sara or keiji because they're the only two who we don't get to see how they signed the asu-naro vow. but i also don't really get how it would be either of them because keiji was a victim of hiyori's tricks too, and sara just seems totally clueless. it makes my brain hurt to think about so i kinda choose not to.

i think the "gin is the mastermind" theory is mind-bogglingly stupid. sorry LMAO-

i think the theory of jou being the son of mr. policeman is actually super cool! i don't really know why it exists but i've seen people talking about it and i think that would be a cool connection.

i've read a few things about the referendum theory and i think it's a cool theory! it kinda make sense, though there are a few holes that i can't logic my way through quite yet. it seems very plausible though, and it would make for an interesting plot!

i don't think shin is overrated at all. he's a super interesting character and i love how he contributes to the story, and all the twists about him are so unique and exciting! i do hate when people water him down to like a soggy little man who's super weak and innocent, though. the coolest thing about him is his fortitude!

in case it wasn't obvious, i am on team "q-taro is the goat", especially after 3-1b. even after accidentally getting the ending where q-taro abandoned all of us i was like "okay but that was lowkey cunty af of him..." i've always been on homie q-taro's side and i also think it's hilarious that he's like supposed to be an american stereotype.

anyway that's all i can think of! i hope some of y'all wanna be friends!!

[vacantgodling]

🚼🛝💝💔 for whichever siblings in tcol are the most chaotic

honestly this is a very good question, who are the most chaotic? i have a habit of making ridiculous and defunct sibling relationships, and many of the tcol characters have siblings... but i think i'll stick to the ones i know the absolute most about (relatively), the brightendales which are mc clear (26) and his two siblings vanity (23), pure (14) who are those ages at the start of book 1 lol.

🚼How many siblings did they grow up with, if any?

clear technically Really only grew up with vanity, as the two of them are closer in age than pure who was had as a sort of "make up child" by his parents. to explain, clear has been pressured from a young age by his parents to be a dark hunter--and he's literally the Best one who's ever lived (because of his unique make up). however, the horrors and trauma that he experienced growing up severely stunted him and alienated him from his sister, especially because his father wasn't concerned with being yknow. a good parent. so he ostracized vanity for not being as good as her brother (also he never wanted a daughter so that's a whole other can of worms). vanity looked up to her older brother though; not in the same way that pure will eventually, but she always admired how despite the hardships he always tried to put on a brave face for her and their mother. vanity was always a quieter child, so she and clear never like. Talked extensively and she couldn't understand what he was going through, but when he was eventually kicked out of the home for wanting to stop being a dark hunter/being gay/etc at 17, 14yo vanity vowed that she would find him one day.

after kicking clear out, all of their father's intentions kind of projected onto pure, who grew up knowing that his elder brother was extremely talented and skilled but he threw it all away, and like thier father, pure grew to resent clear. he especially hated how vanity's loyalties seemed to lie with this brother that even she admitted she hardly spoke with while he was around, and hated how despite it all, pure couldn't seem to master his same accomplishments. pure is like if san's family life was nuclear tbh. and this resentment is one of pure's character arcs in book 2 lol.

🛝Did they get along with their sibling(s) in childhood? Do they now?

vanity and clear were distant, but they do eventually come closer when vanity decides to go to guilds in hopes of finding and rekindling her relationship with clear. pure and vanity were always at each others throats because pure thought (by way of their father's thought) that he was better than vanity, even though in reality vanity is far beyond pure in skill as a hunter. pure has definitely suffered the brunt of alienation by their father's manipulation and hates both of his siblings, but clear especially for having the gall to be good at everything he wants to be but throwing it away to be something so "stupid" as a healer tm. it'll take a Long Time for pure to be on cordial speaking terms with either his sister or clear. despite this however, clear doesn't have much of an opinion towards pure, because he rarely saw him and then was kicked out pretty early on in pure's life so there's almost no connection there. pure DOES trigger clear's ptsd when they do meet for the first time because he is a near carbon copy of their father in looks and attitude.

💝What do they like most about having sibling(s)? / 💔What do they dislike the most about having sibling(s)?

clear is pretty neutral about having siblings because of his trauma he was barely in their lives. he doesn't really have anything he likes and dislikes because he barely knows either of them. but when he and vanity do reunite, he does enjoy that she validates the abuse that he suffered because for SO LONG he just assumed he wasn't good enough for not being able to handle it. he mostly would say he dislikes that more people had to be subjected to his terrible upbringing so that's why he isn't like. thrilled about the idea of having siblings, but its not their fault.

vanity wishes that the relationship with her siblings was overall better and has gained the wisdom to understand who's at fault for that (their father for being an abusive asshole and their mother for p much checking out of the relationship and letting it happen). she liked the fleeting times at home where she got along with either of her brothers and the fun things they could do together, such as the few times clear was home (before he was kicked out) how he would take her into the forests near their home just so they could relax. or, how as a child, pure was very sweet and wanted to cling to her all the time before he was (essentially) corrupted. she dislikes how entitled and stuck up pure is and how she is generally speaking the forgotten and underloved middle child.

pure hates his siblings for his entire conscious memory so there isn't anything he likes about them. he hates how he knows deep down, that both vanity and clear are more skilled than he is, and despite being their father's golden child, he would never earn their father's true love and respect because all he was using pure for was a replacement for clear's prestige and pure can't even begin to hold a candle to that. again, its san but worse with him.

[frogbrainedfool]

Okay so here’s my UNORGANIZED THOUGHTS ON LEGENDS: DARKSTALKER AFTER STAYING UP READING IT LAST NIGHT! TM

SPOILER WARNING

I would read an entire book about just Clearsight, she’s so freaking interesting. The timelines and how they affected her relationships, it was just so fascinating.

I imagined her as this wise adult when I read the prelude to book 11, but now I’m like dang she was just some kid who ran away from home.

Fathom is pretty much Turtle, part 2, Not Annoying This Time! And tbh I don’t mind that at all. His refusal to use his animus magic felt a lot more justified.

I sort of understand why people would like Darkstalker now, but I myself still hate him. The whole statue thing, the spell to make Clearsight unable to see negative futures. Dude.

I kept on anticipating Indigo to get her own chapters but it was just the three protagonists.

I’m stuck between finding Indigo annoying and knowing her paranoia was entirely justified.

I really wanted to like Whiteout but she just wasn’t that endearing to me. I didn’t even dislike her, she just was sort of “meh”. I kinda wanna crack her brain open like an egg and examine what’s going on in there, if that makes sense.

I expected Arctic to be worse. Really setting a high bar when he literally schemed to kill his own son and puppet around his daughter and I still thought he was gonna be worse-

TBH I thought Indigo was going to die at some point. Glad she didn’t.

I wish the scene where Clearsight put the bracelet on Darkstalker was a little more dramatic.

Similarly, “The Scene With Arctic” kinda fell flat for me but that’s probably because the fandom built it up so much.

Darkstalkers chapters in general felt kinda underwhelming. The downfall of Jerboa the first felt a lot more impactful. It just felt pretty lame, as though Darkstalker wasn’t becoming more rotten but his good parts were just gradually removed. I suppose we’re supposed to assume his corruption spills over into arc 2.

I find the relationship between Darkstalker and Clearsight rather interesting. They just.. Knew they’d be together. What a bizarre thought, knowing the names of your nonexistent children before you even spoke.

From what little I knew of Albatross before reading, I always imagined him as this creepy skeletal old man dragon. Like he’d always been a little off or something along those lines. Seeing him described as a jovial, wise, grandpa-ish sort of guy did catch me by surprise.

Blob is love. Blob is life.

I wonder what’s up with Pearl. Like is she cool? She okay? Probably not, and I wanna know more about that.

It was fun recognizing scenes from MAPs, like the wooden figure or Albatross’s description of his first spell. Speaking of, it’ll be fun to watch the MAPs I’d avoided so long due to spoilers.

It was kind of jarring watching Arctic and Foeslayer jump from star crossed lovers, all sparkly eyed and fuzzy and excited, to screaming matches in the kitchen. It makes me want to learn more about them.

So are all dragonets relatively intelligent when they hatch or is Darkstalker just a special little guy? We do see from Moon’s hatching that she understands hiding, and she picks up the word “Mom” pretty quick, so is this just normal? Or maybe it’s like a nightwing thing? And is it affected if you’re moonborn? Ah, questions upon questions…

Why didn’t Fathom just enchant away his magic? Like, cast a final spell with his vow to make sure he’d never be able to use his magic? Bam, his paranoia problem is solved! But then I guess the bracelet plan wouldn’t work.

Kind of hilarious how Darkstalker is like “Nothing will ever go wrong with my animus magic because I’m really cool and powerful and always make good choices! How do I know that? Because I have animus magic on my side, of course!”

Overall, I did enjoy the book! Really wish I could read more about Clearsight, she was definitely my favorite character.

[justsomerandomfanfic]

hii, how are you doing?

i was wondering if i could get a romantic and platonic mashup for harry potter both eras, if not, that's okay. for reference i am a woman that (unfortunately) have a preference for men.

i am 5'7 with medium straight/wavy brown hair and i wear glasses;

my personality type is intp and i am a slytherin. i really enjoy talking to people i am close with and making them laugh although it takes me some time to trust new people and i can be a little stubborn sometimes. i am also quite protective of those i care about;

my giving love languages are quality time and gift giving, especially handmade things;

some of my hobbies are painting, reading, dancing and crocheting;

i have an eclectic taste in music, from rock to country and celtic. i like to say that i listen to whatever my ears approve;

about likes: autumn, nature, italian food, vintage horror movies + musicals, sitcoms, mangas, cats, volleyball, fashion, stars and i don't have a specific favorite color, i like them all;

i intend to major in pharmacy or biology;

lastly, i am from latin america, i speak portuguese, english and study spanish.

hope you had fun reading this.

thanks! ♡

Hi! I'm doing great! Thank you so much for requesting a matchup! Sorry for the wait! <3333 I hope you enjoy you like the matches!

---

Marauders Era -

(Platonic);

Severus Snape:

🐍 You met Severus on the train to Hogwarts, (and that's also where you met Lily, but that's besides the point), you met Severus in your first year, getting along alright, since he was pretty quiet and reserved; and you were somewhat the same, it took a good while until you fully trusted him enough to fully break out of your shell

🐍 Once you both got more comfortable with one another, it did help that you were both put in Slytherin, you both hung out regularly, and sometimes with Lily; you totally knew that Severus liked Lily, and supported it, but you had a feeling that something bad was going to happen

🐍 And that was correct, the Marauders, a group of pranksters, liked to well, prank you and Severus; and your only saving grace when you couldn't get them to back off was Lily, and her demands only worked since James was in love with her

🐍 But you were always there for Severus, even after all the pranks, all the bullying he suffered by the Marauders, and when he lost his friendship with Lily; you were always there... Even when you both has a bit of a falling out, you always supported him

🐍 Even though he was stubborn, he truly was thankful for you; and as the years went on, you both mended your friendship

---

(Romantic);

Sirius Black:

🐺 You met Sirius since he was part of the Marauders and in turn... He used to bully you and Severus, (now, not saying that that is a good thing going on here, because of you, he changed his freaking ways, so good for you, now...) anyway, you disliked him quite a lot in the beginning

🐺 But, similar to James, he was whipped, smitten, head over heels, and he would do practically anything for you; and it only took a little bit of convincing, just giving him a small smile made him vow to never bully or prank Severus again, (it took James a little bit longer to do that so Sirius won)

🐺 After he grew into a better person, Sirius went straight into flirtatious, casanova, will-do-anything-you-want-if-you-just-ask mode; from flowers, to new rock-and-roll cassettes, to art supplies, and even a couple of (like fifteen) books

🐺 And as the years go on, you began to fall for him too, (and this was some of the reason why you and Severus's friendship dwindled) but you found Sirius rather charming, sweet, handsome, and very generous; you were still stubborn though, and turned him down when he asked you out, but that never stopped him, (and you finally agreed to go to the Yule Ball with him in the end)

🐺 Sirius is invested, like he's gonna put a ring on that finger invested, and he did... You said yes, spoiler alert; Sirius thinks you are a goddess, a deity, he literally worships the ground you walk on, you were so in love with Sirius in return and so grateful for all the time he spent with you

---

Lightning Era -

(Platonic);

Cedric Diggory:

🦡 You met Cedric when you were in third year, you shared a few classes when Slytherin and Hufflepuff shared classes, and though it did take you a while to know him, you were surprised when he was so kind to you in the first place, I mean, you were a Slytherin; but that was just Cedric, he was sweet and saw the good in everyone

🦡 So you quickly became friends, and you just loved to make him laugh, whether with jokes or maybe a pun or two, you loved to see that smile; Cedric loved hearing your jokes and learning more about you, he thought you were great

🦡 Cedric, when you both hangout, loves to watch vintage horror movies with you, and was always down to try some italian food when he visits your home in the summertime, (your parents are pretty nice); and when Cedric was named for the tournament, you made sure to be there for all the trials and always made sure he was alright when you could

🦡 Even your cat that you got back in your first year liked Cedric, and that cat hated everything, which the two of you thought was pretty funny; and Cedric even bought you a manga for your birthday once

🦡 You two were attached to the hip, always there for one another, even after the trial, you were always there for him; you knew even if he was gone physically, you'd alway have him in your heart, and always remember his angelic laugh

---

(Romantic);

Neville Longbottom:

🍀 You met Neville when you found his toad, Trevor, on the train back in first year, and Neville couldn't stop the blush from turning his chubby cheeks red, (he thought you were super pretty); you felt the same, immediately, you thought he was adorable

🍀 The time that you actually have a conversation, though it's a bit awkward and slow, you both grow close after talking about plants, autumn, and nature; and over the years, you grow into friends, then friends pining for each other, and then finally partners

🍀 And about being a Slytherin, he was never afraid of you, since you did help him in the beginning, and he was grateful that you were always there for him when Draco tried anything; you didn't care if the other Slytherins said anything about you, you were standing your ground, not backing down, and protecting your Neville

🍀 Neville joins you a lot of the time for stargazing, even though he hated breaking the rules, he'd only break them for you if you asked, (and if it was a reasonable rule to break), so sneaking out of the Gryffindor and Slytherin dorms was something slightly common for the both of you; and a little fun fact, Neville loves when you speak Portuguese, gets his heart all fluttery, and he loves braiding your hair

🍀 You and Neville are inseparable, always there for one another and always there if the other needs a shoulder to cry on; from advice or just sitting there and listening, you and Neville are both thankful that you have one another

---

[theliterarywolf]

Alright, let's compile some spoiler-related asks under a Read More. There's four here so, uh... Plenty of reading

Anonymous asked: Holy shit, Submission-anon here. I was actually considering mentioning how much Zora's domain bothered me in Totk this time around. Glad to see I'm not the only one, and I hope it's fine I add my thoughts on that to my submission about my observations on Yona's character, since I feel it REALLY plays into WHY the entirety of Zora's domain feels a lot less... fun, emotional and personal, like it did in Botw, or even Aoc. Anonymous asked: Zora's domain was my fave in botw 🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃 sounds like it'll be my least fucking fave this time around fuck Anonymous asked: Dorephan deciding Sidon is straight, so he can have a go at Link. I'm only saying one thing: 20 liters. Anonymous asked: The straights are at it again /J But seriously, not going to be "QUEERPHOBIC!HDHUYDB!" Bullshit argument for loz, but I will point out that when someone says "This chick kinda sucks I think link fits better with this other fem character!" You get shitton of support or at least no real backlash, even if she's "only a friend". But if you say "I don't like Yona." even non shipping related, so many people will throw a tantrum and claim it's because "you wanna make link gay, dudes can be friends"

Anon 1: Feel free, anon.

Anon 2: I mean, you'll probably still have fun. I will say that reassembling the Zora Armor was interesting, at least...

Anon 3: First of all, I can't get over 'deciding' because I want anyone who has played through the Zora's Domain portion of TotK to look me in the eyes and deny that it honestly felt like Dorephan was more excited to see Link than Sidon was.

Like, yeah, after the Water Temple when Sidon went down on one knee to present his vow to Link and all, but still...

...Also, you just had to add that cursed tidbit at the end there, huh?

Anon 4: I feel that we have been seeing a more vocal amount of headcanon brainrot with ToTK as of late. Because, yeah, even though me and another anon were joking about Yona being a beard, they were just that: jokes. Some people out there are legitimately trying to cry homophobia because of her introduction and it's just, like I said, Sidon is a Prince (well, now a King but whatever), he is Dorephan's ONLY HEIR because Mipha DIED, he has to get married in order to keep the bloodline going. This isn't hard to understand.

But, also, I want to take a moment to point out the obnoxious level of 'this character is X and if you don't agree you're a bigot' as well as 'why do the alphabet-soup people ALWAYS have to make characters gay or trans?!'

Because I know where the upsurge in all of this came from: that interview that Aonuma gave where he was talking about 'oh, we always develop games with Link being more nonconforming to gender'.

And, of course, that should be taken as Link is more of a slate for the player to project themselves onto, no matter what gender or sexual-orientation, to create a more immersive experience.

But then we ended up with people going 'So, Link is trans then? It's canon, suck it homophobes!' And then legitimate edgelords going 'Link can't be a tranny, stop projecting onto everything!' And then there's that back and forth while rational people in the middle are just trying to live and vibe with 'In my headcanon, Link is a GNC man and Sidon has two hands and I'm happy and not bothering anyone'

So there's what was mentioned above and that animosity leaches over to conversations about Yona (people on both sides thinking that the only reason she's disliked is shipping)

Anyway, I'm just going to stay in my corner, enjoy this game at my slow-to-medium pace... And brace myself for the 'jealous wife'/'fujoshi wife' fics that will inevitably fill up the SidLink tag on AO3 because people forget that polyamory is a thing.

[slightlyrebelliouswriter23]

What's your opinion on Vivi? Cos I'm re reading the series and have just finished twk and while she does love her sisters I'm reminded of why I don't like her much there's always something that never struck me right about her mainly it's the whole situation with Heather and how Vivi glamoured her and everything else but also bc of how she deals with her sisters

DISCLAIMER: this post is about defending Vivi Duarte with what little information we are actually given about her, for those who are genuinely open to interpretations on her. if you've made up your mind and do not like Vivi, that's fine, but this is probably not the ask for you!

i love most of the characters in TFOTA. in fact, unless it's Balekin, Valerian, Asha, or Locke, you can be sure i will probably take the time to defend them.

Vivi is funny, outspoken, and (like most HB characters) complex. but i think people's dislike of Vivi is along the same vein as their dislike of Taryn.

both betrayed their sisters in one way or another–Taryn through more obvious modes of betrayal (the Locke situation in TCP and tricking Cardan in TWK), and Vivi through more covert modes (questionable sisterly neglect). but if we look at a person's actions as facts about their character, rather than the result of nuanced motivations, it's easy to dislike them.

i like them precisely because liking them is so much more difficult. not impossible, though—we just have to do a little digging.

I. Words and How They Bind

something very interesting about Vivi that i think is hard to remember for the duration of the series is that, in the prologue of TCP, she vowed to hate Madoc forever:

“'I hate you,' Vivi proclaimed to the tall man with a viciousness that Jude was glad of. 'I will always hate you. I vow it.'”

this isn't something to be taken lightly. it's not a rage-filled but mostly empty threat of a child that can be later assuaged with a few kind words or a handful of sweets. it's a proclamation.

it is explicitly a vow.

to the fae, vows and promises are absolute. just how the people of Elfhame are bound by their word when they pledge themselves to the High King/Queen, or how the fae bind themselves through vows in marriage, Vivi is literally bound to her word.

she will hate Madoc forever.

additionally, it's almost as if she pledged herself to a life of being the opposite of whatever Madoc wants her to be. he wants her to live in Elfhame? she will move to the mortal world when she's old enough. he wants her to attend classes? she will stop going. he wants her to go to the revels and socialise? she'll stay at home and read comic books.

"If it annoys Madoc, it pleases Vivi." (TCP, ch.2)

so it's interesting that Madoc, right after Vivi has made her vow to hate him, tells her not to shirk her responsibilities as the eldest child—and, consciously or not, she proceeds to do exactly that. and perhaps even more interesting is Madoc's constant emphasis on "family over everything", juxtaposed with Vivi's almost apathetic absence from it.

this isn't to excuse Vivi of everything she never noticed with Jude and Taryn by pinning it on some magical vow she made when she was nine. but i do wonder if, because of her vow, there's a little more at play than just carelessness here.

still, even if we are to believe in Vivi's free will, imagine growing up being forced to live with a biological father you viscerally hate, and having your younger sisters—whose parents (and yours) were literally murdered by him in front of your eyes—treat him as more father than murderer.

at that young of an age, i suspect it would be hard to understand why Jude and Taryn didn't hate Madoc viscerally, too. to Vivi, i think it might even feel a little gaslighty.

Jude hints at Vivi's feelings about this in TCP:

“When Vivi wasn't reminiscing about home, she was a terror. She broke things. She screamed and raged and pinched us when we were content. Eventually, she stopped all of it, but I believe there is a part of her that hates us for adapting. For making the best of things. For making this our home.” (TCP, ch.2)

if you're alone in hating someone, it is probably a very isolating experience.

II. Coping or Cop-Out?

Vivi is portrayed as this impulsive, rebel-child with her head in the clouds. her main focus is on escaping a life she never chose for herself. in fact, i think one of the ways Vivi tries to take control of her own life again, after Madoc upends it by murdering their parents, is through escapism.

we see this in her constant fixation on the mortal world, through her voracious consumption of the comics Heather draws, and how she only has one friend in all of Faerie: Rhiya.

“All our new memories are of here, and Vivi has only a passing interest in those.” (TCP, ch. 2)

suffice it to say, she has not bothered putting down roots.

one fascinating theme, which has become apparent to me recently, is that the Duarte sisters each have a very distinct way of handling the trauma they've endured.

Jude carves out a space for herself through strength, skill, and intellect- fight

Vivi seeks any methods of escape- flight

Taryn relies on relationships with others to ensure her security at court- fawn

each of these is a psychologically recognised trauma response. so if Vivi seems distant or detached from the happenings in Faerie, it's because of this coping mechanism.

however, the difference between Vivi's response and that of her sisters, is that hers is a coping mechanism for a memory of the past. Jude and Taryn's responses are survival mechanisms for current ongoing trauma.

i don't think Vivi, as one of the fae, recognises the privilege she has over her sisters.

if there's anything negative to be said about Vivi's character, it is this. that she either presumes that since Madoc claimed Jude and Taryn as his own, they would be just as accepted by the fae is she or Oak is, despite their being mortal; or worse, that she is as Jude suspects—altogether oblivious to the plight of mortals living in Elfhame.

either way, it's not as if any of them talk about it.

but if Vivi's words truly do bind her will, i wonder if existing in a space occupied by Madoc is difficult. i wonder if it weighs more on her than it does on her sisters. i wonder if noticing details of other people's lives is difficult when your mind is totally consumed by a hatred for one person.

i think Jude, of all people, might be able to understand that.

III. Age is Not But a Number

we sometimes forget that, although she is older than Jude and Taryn, Vivi is still a kid herself. i believe she is said to be around 19-20 in the books.

now, i know the "adult" age for humans is 18, but frankly that doesn't really mean anything in our world, much less Elfhame. even with my 25 years (which is still quite young btw), i look back at years 19 and 20 and think about how immature i was then.

i was barely able to care for myself sufficiently. i was in no way qualified to care for a whole other person (or two).

there's this weird theme in YA fantasy novels where the fate of the whole world often rests on the shoulders of kids. where the only adults they know are either obsessed with power or dismissive and impervious. and while i do think kids are capable of a lot, and it's certainly neat to imagine a world where they are given enough respect and credibility to affect positive change in their societies, i don't think it's good or fair to conflate capability with responsibility.

just because someone is ostensibly capable of doing something, it doesn't mean they should have to do it. especially not alone.

which brings me to my biggest point: it was never Vivi's responsibility to raise her sisters.

even when they lived in the mortal world, where the twins were relatively safe, it was presumably Eva and Justin who made sure all of their needs were met. it wasn't Vivi's responsibility then, and it isn't when they get to Elfhame, either.

so my question is, do you actually have a problem with the way Vivi specifically treated the twins? or are you frustrated with her lack of protecting them from the way they are treated by Elfhame in general?

because in my mind, that burden is entirely Madoc's to bear. he assumed the responsibility of protecting them when he murdered their parents. he even says so himself in the prologue of TCP:

“'They are the progeny of my wife and, thus, my responsibility. I may be cruel, a monster, and a murderer, but I do not shirk my responsibilities.'"

yet, how are we meant to believe he honoured his duties to them when they lived every day terrified?

we, as a fandom, seem to have many excuses at the ready for Madoc:

"he loved them in his own way"

"he did the best that he could in raising them"

"he didn't treat them any differently, he regarded them as his own, what an amazing complex relationship!"

and while i think these are commendable and true statements, i also think they should be able to coexist with:

"he didn't do enough to protect them, he should've done more"

"because he was obsessed with power, he was also a bit neglectful"

"he had his own interests in mind more than his children"

so if the twins ever felt unsafe or unwanted in Elfhame, we should only have Madoc (and potentially Oriana, whose guilt is by association) to blame.

IV: Heather the Harbinger of Clarity

to me, Vivi glamouring Heather at Taryn's wedding in TWK was the panicked action of a young person who felt guilty for letting something bad happen to someone she loved. much in the same way as the time Vivi whisked Jude and Taryn back to the mortal world for a few days because they missed home, Vivi just wanted to make the problem go away quickly.

and much in the same way as their escape to the mortal world when they were little didn't fix the girls being homesick, glamouring Heather didn't fix anything like Vivi thought it would. it only made everything worse.

so was it a good move to glamour Heather without her permission? no. it was a mistake.

i don't think she realised the gravity of what she was doing, and it showed the audience (as well as Heather) that maybe she wasn't quite ready for a relationship.

i do think Heather is an important piece of all of this, though. because Heather's problems in Elfhame will be the same or similar to Jude and Taryn's problems. the only difference is, Vivi is directly responsible for what happens to Heather, since Vivi is the one who brought her into the world of the fae.

i'm hopeful that their relationship will shed a light on the subject of mortals in Elfhame that Vivi had yet to see. and perhaps someday we will get to see her make amends with Jude and Taryn, too.

TLDR:

Vivi is bound to her vow of hatred for Madoc, and therefore, is isolated by being the only one who truly hates him.

the way she copes with that is by running away to the only place she's ever known love (the mortal world). this makes her appear detached and neglectful in protecting the twins, which rubs people the wrong way.

but that was never Vivi's job. it was Madoc's.

we see Vivi acting like a kid because she is one. and part of being a kid is acting impulsively and selfishly sometimes.

at the end of the day, Vivi is learning how to best care for herself at the same time as she is learning how to love others to the best of her abilities.

i don't fault her for making the mistakes she does. that's part of growing up.

—Em 🖤🗡

more on words & vows in the fae

more theories & analysis

[outrunningthedark]

shannon wouldn't get a shred of the sympathy she gets now if she was a woc, but her stans aren't ready for that conversation

Just look at the way Ana and Shannon are depicted in fic. Both are canonically ableist female characters, but Ana haters take it a step further by making her a stalker, or homophobic, or (literally) unbelievably harsh during the breakup scenes, while Shannon encourages Eddie to tell Buck how he feels and builds a legit friendship with both men over time - and is, ofc, a consistent presence in Christopher’s life.

And lbr here. A big reason why people want(ed) Shannon to stick around was so that one of the “female bestie” headcanons might actually come true. The odds of TayKay or Lucy getting close to both halves of Buddie and supporting them were/are slim at best (and fandom knows this), but Christopher’s mother? A woman Buck would have to communicate with and be around for Christopher’s sake (and probably to support Eddie)? Are they really going to dislike each other for the rest of the series?! 🙄

I don’t think fandom is ready for the conversation about the optics of the situation, either. Far too often the media - both real and fictional - tells stories about people who were raised by single mothers, people who don’t have genuine relationships with their biological fathers.

Not only did 9-1-1 flip the script by choosing to write Eddie, a man of color, as the parent who acknowledges his mistakes and vows to do better…they used a white woman’s neglect in direct contrast so the audience could see and appreciate just how much progress Eddie had made.

[ramblings-of-a-mad-cat]

Genuinely wondering, if you like S8 then what is it you like about it? I make an honest effort to see what you see but it's just trash. Trash everywhere. I challenge yoou to name 5 things you like about it.

Is this about Game of Thrones? I'm assuming it is, so this should be fun.

I'm not saying Season 8 is award-worthy television. It's one of the weaker seasons for sure. In general, I dislike that the decision to shorten it to six episodes, just as I disliked the choice to shorten Season 7. I also don't like how Doctor Who's seasons have been gradually shortening over time since the Capaldi Era. I just really wish shows would stop doing this. Why actively choose to give us less content? We like your shows! Let us have more! Take the time you need to tell your stories! Ah well, if only these seasons were a bit longer, I feel like they wouldn't be hated quite so much. Though some of the decisions in Season 8 were so universally despised that it might not matter. I'll get to a couple of them. But as you wish, I shall list five things about the eighth season that I unironically loved. Nah, I'll go you one better. Here's ten:

10: Varys' Death. We can talk for hours about all of the terrible events of S8E5, but I don't think this falls under the same category. It's easy to forget that Varys died in this episode because it happens right at the start and, let's be honest, most fans probably just remember this episode as the one where Dany spends 75% of the runtime torching King's Landing. This is the episode that "killed the show" for the general fandom. But Varys' death was perfectly handled. It was foreshadowed in Season 7 extremely well, and much like Littlefinger's death, it's a fitting end for his character. Varys played his games, and they caught up with him. Sure, he did so for noble reasons, but he was still playing with literal fire. I also don't think Daenerys was wrong to kill him, even if I wept to lose such a fine character and honorable man. She vowed to execute him if he betrayed her. In this episode, he spread secrets to undermine her and it's suggested that he tried to poison her. He would still have been a threat from a prison cell, as he has all of his "little birds" and what's more, if Dany doesn't honor her promise, then she's sending the message that her word as Queen means nothing. This was a powerful death, exactly what makes Game of Thrones so great.

9: The conclusion of Theon's character arc. Seriously, as much as I didn't want to lose him, I feel like he'd been marked for death for a while. Had he survived, I believe a small part of him would always have that self-sacrificial death wish, that belief that he didn't deserve to still be alive. He went down a hero, protecting The Starks. Protecting the same boy that he'd once betrayed. Well...not exactly the same person but close enough. Considering how a few other character arcs ultimately ended, I'd say Theon takes the cake for having the best one. He grew up uncertain of who he was, and then he thought he found himself, but he was wrong, so he lost himself - and how. But eventually, he emerged from the dark and reclaimed his identity and his true family. I don't even mind how easily he got defeated. He was never much of a warrior, the strength in his character always came from his emotional complexity. Much like Jaimie, he's the sort of person that initially, you despise and can't imagine yourself feeling for. And yet it creeps up on you, because these people are complex. They're not black and white. Well, some of them are, but not Jaime, (I'll...I'll get to him.) and not Theon.

8: Arya and Sandor's farewell. I'm gonna cheat a little bit for this one, because personally, I do not like Sandor's ending at all. I know everyone loved the Clegane Bowl but that was probably the worst ending he could have gotten. How does it service his character arc at all to fight his brother? To die fighting him? To die fighting him in fire? It doesn't even feel poetic like Jaime's death does. But! Enough about that. We need to talk about the positives. And seriously, few things get me as choked up as hearing Arya call Sandor by his first name. The acknowledgment of their bond. It's some weird blend between former enemies/rivals, big brother/sister, and father/daughter. It's hardly conventional but it's one of my favorite friendships in the entire series. Sandor was always ultimately good, but it took Arya (and Sansa, to a lesser extent) to bring out that side in him, and it took Ray and his friends for Sandor to start accepting it. He entrenched himself in hate for so long and he could see himself in Arya, which gave him pride, but also made him wary. He didn't want her to be like him, not completely. He tells her to save herself, and not inherit the bad parts of his legacy, and Arya finally lets go of her obsession with revenge after the literal embodiment of revenge tells her that it ain't all it's cracked up to be.

7: Jorah's Death. Hot damn, did he go out like a fucking hero. Saving Dany's life yet again, leading her to safety, and-is that Dany holding a sword? Oh hell yeah! Where has this been all my life? Jorah just protecting her to the last, wielding Heartsbane in Sam's stead, which I take as a symbol of their friendship and if you like, a sign that Sam doesn't have any hard feelings toward Jorah for serving Dany, despite what she did to his family. Jorah sustaining multiple fatal wounds throughout the fight, and yet - and yet! He friggin refuses to go down until the White Walkers collapse and he knows Dany's safe. And in the end, he can't even say anything? Oh, my heart. That's painful, and it's realistic too. Sometimes, if you've been stabbed in the chest and you're dying...you physically can't get any words out. Dany's expression, Jorah's expression...oh, it kills me. Drogon landing to shield Dany and mourn Jorah as well? I'm dead. Destroyed. I'd also be remiss not to mention the absolute badassery that is Lyanna. Consider this a shoutout to House Mormont in general, as I am a major fan of theirs. Lyanna, who's all of eleven years old, insists on fighting in the war. She dies, yes, but she takes out a fucking giant first. I'm sorry, y'all can call this kid a bored meme all you like, but your criticisms will be drowned out in the absolute earth-shattering thunder of her storm. She's too cool for you, she's too cool for me, she's too cool for anyone.

6: Tormund. Just, just Tormund. He never fails to make me smile and laugh, and say what you will about some of the other characters, but they didn't miss a single beat with Tormund on this cycle. Seriously, there wasn't any line he had, not a one, that was not perfect. When he tackled Jon in S8E2? "My little crow." God, they are such bros and it makes me so happy. In the first episode at the end, "I've always had blue eyes!" I've got to hand it to the actor, and yes, the writing, for how Tormund was an endless breath of fresh air, and he even got an emotional farewell with Jon in S8E4. Seriously, this character has such heart, and he's so funny. The scene where he's lamenting his woes and his heartbreak about Brienne choosing Jaime, and the camera pans out to reveal a pissed off Sandor being forced to listen to him blubber? I had to pause the damn thing because I cracked up so hard. But my favorite line of his? I'd have to go with his exchange with Jon about how they need to be celebrating. "Vomiting isn't celebrating." And then Tormund, with a straight face. "Yes it is." Seven hells, what a riot. And yeah, I know, I know, he drunkenly rambles on about how badass it is that Jon climbed onto a Dragon, and "kinda forgot" he'd also ridden one himself. Or, y'know, maybe he was referring to people who have actually "piloted" dragons rather than just being passengers, which only Jon, Dany, and the Night King have ever done. Or maybe he was just drunk, guys. That was quite clear during the scene...I swear, some of these complaints are just confusing...

5: Melisandre's death. That's it. Just, that it happened. Not as satisfying or cathartic a death as I would have hoped, but boy am I glad she's dead and I don't care if that's petty. Rest in peace, Shireen. You deserved so much better and you are at last avenged - well, sort of.

Alright, alright, the real #5: Jaime's Death. Okay, flame shields up, let me offer my disclaimer. This was not the ending I wanted for Jaime, not by a longshot. I'm a Braime shipper and I hate Cersei as much as the next fan, possibly more. Even so, as I alluded to earlier, there's a kind of poetry to Jaime and Cersei's death that I cannot ignore. I can somewhat defend the choice to have Jaime go back to her because, let's face it - that relationship is abusive. Jaime has resigned himself to this idea that he can never be a good person because he's done bad things, because he still cares about Cersei, who will always be a bad person. He knows she's never going to change, but he can't let go of her. It's a crying shame because he was on the road to recovery, and I can understand the idea that his character arc was thrown away. I'm not saying I disagree, but I still think of Jaime as a victim and his death as a circular tragedy. Just because the writers make a choice we disagree with or would have done differently, doesn't automatically mean it's bad writing. I don't understand the complaint that Cersei was killed by falling rocks. So? That final moment was unironically beautiful, and sad. The final shot of them being buried choked me up. It's telling that as much as I despise Cersei, I couldn't enjoy her death. How is it "lame" that she was killed by a collapsing building? Besides, Daenerys may not have swung a sword at them, but she's clearly the one who killed them? Besides, if it had never happened, we wouldn't have gotten that gut-wrenching scene of Tyrion unearthing the golden hand and sobbing, hitting the rock on the ground. Or the badass moment where he quits as Daenerys' Hand.

4: Sansa and Daenerys' rivalry. I'm not sure why people disliked this so much, when it's literally the same kind of conflict we've always had. Game of Thrones, for the most part, doesn't have heroes and villains. It has three dimensional people who all have their own political agendas, and Sansa and Dany's agendas were in serious conflict. This is like complaining that Renly and Stannis were at odds with each other. It's just always been a part of the show and I thought it was realized pretty well. Whether you side with the Starks, with Dany, or you think they're both being stupid, it's easy to understand where each of them is coming from. It's a well crafted debate and both sides have good points. And I love how it's not about Jon - it's literally about Northern independence. Sansa is in overprotective sister mode but she also just generally doesn't trust Dany, and Dany knows it. Sansa shows what she's learned from her mentors when she betrays Jon, and yet paradoxically she also proves how much she cares about him. Sansa's betrayal matters a lot, and while I know some fans hate her for it, there was no way she was ever going to do anything else. This response was exactly in character. As was Daenerys' begging Jon to keep his heritage secret and resenting him for not agreeing to. It's a hell of a thing to ask, but Dany's been working toward the throne for the last seven years - and what, all of a sudden it's going to be snatched away because some secret *male* relative shows up at the eleventh hour? Yeah, if I were her, I'd think that was some bullshit as well.

3: Jon's realization about his identity. Alright, I know the memes. Jon only has two lines throughout the season, "I dun want it" and "muh queen" (Frankly, those memes have become more annoying than the actual problems with Jon's character in the show. Seriously, that joke is more dead than Ned Stark, just let it rest.) I agree that not nearly as much was done with Jon's heritage and that his overall role in this season was a passive one - until the end, anyway. But that scene in S8E1 is an actual masterpiece. Jon and Sam reunited in the most wholesome hug, Jon learning the truth at last, not being able to cope with it, the question being raised of who would be better. The discussion about Ned. It's just a magnificent scene. Sam was the perfect person to tell him, and it helps that he also finds out about Dany killing Sam's family in the same scene. I absolutely love the line where Sam asks if Dany would give up a crown to save her people because for better or for worse, S8 kind of suggested that she was not, and would not. It really kicked the conflict of the season, the tension between Jon and Daenerys, into overdrive, and I appreciate that. I appreciate that the scene happened in the crypts as well, and how significant that location has been to this storyline. Hell, you could call this whole scene a narrative mirror to Robert and Ned's scene by Lyanna's statue all the way back in Episode 1.

2: Arya killing the Night King. Oh yeah, I said it, I love this. It blows my mind that there are fans who are genuinely devastated that it was Arya, based on fan reception I've seen. First of all, she makes perfect sense - she has the skillset to sneak up on the Night King. This gets into a bigger fallacy I've noticed where fans who hate Arya will simultaneously complain that she's overpowered, and that she never uses her face-changing abilities. Like, which is it, guys? Sometimes I just think people want to hate her, and for the life of me, I don't get why. She spent two whole seasons training to be a master assassin. People hate that storyline too, but they seem to forget it happened when they criticise Arya. (Though believe me, I'm right there with the folks who are mad about the final fight with the Waif. I can suspend my disbelief far enough to accept that she survives those wounds, but do not show her running the very next day, because no. That would not happen.) Second of all, am I the only one who thought that the Night King's death wasn't about who did it, but how it was done? The Catspaw Dagger, the weapon that was used to try and kill Bran all the way back in Episode 2, ultimately saved his life and ended The Long Night. The narrative thread that was resolved with this death wasn't the killer, it was the weapon. But that's just my two cents. I know a lot of people wanted it to be Jon, including Kit Harington himself, but the fact that it wasn't doesn't mean they were just trying to "subvert expectations."

1: Jaime Knighting Brienne. I said before that I was a Braime shipper, but you don't have to be one to appreciate this incredible scene. It was preceded by Jaime's trial, which I also enjoyed, and especially the moment where Brienne speaks out in his defense. It was so damn satisfying to see someone do so and Brienne was the perfect person. Their bond has been built up over the last five seasons and never mind romantic tension, there's a mutual respect going on here, and recurring themes about honor and loyalty and what it means to be a Knight. Jaime's own tricky relationship with all of these values, and how he carries the title anyway. Brienne being the picture perfect example of what a Knight should be and yet not having the rank, having always been held back. This moment is satisfying because holy fuck did Brienne earn this. And it warms my heart to see how happy it makes her, for however much she claimed she didn't want it. And not only did Jaime make logical sense for the person who would do it, narrative-wise, he is absolutely perfect and the only real choice. It just blows my mind how much I love this scene, and really this entire episode. The episode is even named for her, as damn well it should be. I've talked about this before but between Jaime and Brienne fighting together, the two pieces of Ice are reunited to defend Winterfell and that's kind of perfect. I'm gonna have to stop myself now because I could easily gush for another five minutes about this flawless scene and how Season 8 is honestly underrated. Far from perfect, but also far from the travesty that most make it out to be.

[onmyyan]

Hi its me again. I love your writing and the fact that there isn't as much abuse like there is in others. It reminds me of old yandere stories were it was genuine lovesickness. Anyway, how do you think jjba yanderes would react to a darling that is taller and more muscular than them by quite a bit. You can do whoever you like I don't mind.

A/N: Omg ily🥺 it means a lot you said all that because I really love this genre it’s my comfort trope anyway thank you for the request n I hope ya like it!! Kira should be a trigger warning in an of itself but dw he’s just weird, not mean. Mentions of his past ‘girlfriends’, a curse word or two, lil suggestive in someplace’s Mista murks a few people, tw//gun violence

Characters: Pt2 Joseph, Josuke, Kira, Mista

Joseph was used to looking down on people, standing at a proud 6’5” he was literally and figuratively knocked on his ass when he’d first laid eyes on you, his immediate thought was you were a forgotten pillarman coming from nowhere to get revenge for your masters only to quickly realize you were just a stallion. You were strong enough to put him on his back after one too many cheeky comments. Unafraid to speak your mind and keep him in check, You would stare down at him with that mind melting smirk, all too aware of his frustrations, you assumed he was just being a man, ashamed to be outclassed by someone other than himself, oh honey how wrong you were. You enjoyed teasing the behemoth of a man as no one else really could, at least not as well as you did, throughout your little jabs and snark he always had a retort, a response on the tip of his tongue, eager to do this dance of yours until one of you broke, to you he was a way too cocky dangerously self assured pretty boy who was entertainingly easy to rile up, but to Joseph, you were his everything. Someone he could proudly take home to Granny Erina once he’d finally tamed you. He had a plan, a three step plan to steal your heart just as you’d done his, and this little game of who could annoy the other the most was just step 1. “It’s been fun JoJo but you’re gonna have to find someone else to bother.” You’d jokingly said one day out of the blue, an odd friendship had formed through the month you’d been in town and it felt wrong to leave without notice, an act of kindness you’d learn to regret. “Is this one of your famous jokes (Y/n)? Not so funny to play with a mans heart like that I nearly believed you.” He finished with a scoff, his signature smirk not reaching his eyes. “It’s true Joseph, my flight leaves tomorrow, I didn’t wanna leave without saying goodbye, because as much as we fuck around you’re pretty fun to hang out with.” Your sincerity almost made him feel bad about rushing the next few steps of his plan, he’d have to cram months of planning into a night but he’d accomplished more with less time on his side. He huffed, his grin stretched wide across his handsome features. “Then we outta make tonight count eh?” A thick arm was tossed around your neck, you had to bend awkwardly for this to be possible much to your amusement. “Okay you weirdo, whatever you say.” You let him lead you around town with a grin, unaware you’d be missing that plane, and any other one you tried to take without him.

Josuke watched you eat with the dopiest grin on his face, he’d spent an extra hour in the mirror this morning in preparation for your first official date! Well you didn’t exactly know it it was a date and Okayasu was eating rather messily beside you two but still! You’d actually agreed to come to Toni’s with him! You’d been an enigma since you transferred to the bizarre town, choosing to keep to yourself, and despite the intimidating height and mass you possessed, he saw through your act in seconds. There was a huge softie under all that muscle, he’d watched you enough to know this as a fact, you were a gem and he was intent on showing you his appreciation and adoration for the rest of his days, a vow he’d silently taken the day you’d stolen his heart, the moment was brief in reality but it lasted forever in his mind, you smiled at him in passing, he could feel time slow down, everyone around you faded in the background, a backdrop to the beginning of your story. He could imagine telling your kids how you’d met, something about the way you’d stare down at him, eyes sharp and attentive, like you truly listened when people spoke, your laugh was loud when it was real and every time he heard it he felt 10 years added to his lifespan. At the same time that icky feeling at another person making you laugh was conflicting, he’d never been in love before but he suddenly understood why his mom had never given up on his dad, love was weird but he wouldn’t give it up for anything. You’d accidentally snapped your chopsticks laughing too hard at a joke he’d tossed out, your face scrunched in embarrassment before chuckling at yourself and switching to a fork, his stand came out on its own, pocketing the shards to fix later, a new item for his ever growing collection, what a cute little memento from your first date! His thoughts swirled happily with the stories you’d be telling your kids. Thankfully neither of you noticed his little pickpocket moment, dangerous plans forming as he stared at you with those misleadingly soft puppy dog eyes.

Kira could die in this moment, happily I might add, as your firm but soft hand was wrapped oh so deliciously around his throat threatening to crush it with ease at the slightest movement. He’d been watching you for a while now, the longest he’d ever spent on someone he didn’t plan to kill, it become sort of hobby he’d picked up recently, the morally upsetting activity bringing peace to his day to day, usually he used his stand to carefully observe your routine, eager to learn all he could about his future spouses likes and desires, but he was getting greedy. Of course he could always introduce himself but he resisted, knowing there was a time and place to get exactly what he wanted. He liked to think he knew everything about you by now, your favorite color, how you liked your coffee, your love for cats, but he didn’t anticipate this. You were much more observant than he’d given you credit for, while you couldn’t see his stand you could sense yourself being watched, and seeing the large blonde lurking indiscriminately in the crowds throughout the day was enough to set you off. So you trailed off into the less crowded parts of town quickly entering an alleyway, he followed in pure confusion only to be roughly slammed into the wall, his stand came out on reflex but simply stared at his attacker, it seemed almost confused as what to do. “Why the hell are you following me pretty boy?” His eyes rolled to the back of his head at the feel of your fingers tightening, god he’d never felt this rush of exhilaration, none of his past ‘girlfriends’ could pull such an illicit reaction from him with a simple touch. When he didn’t answer you simply scoffed and tossed him aside like it was nothing. You left with a threat to stay out of your sight, yet all he could do was smile, the faint imprint of your fingers burned in his skin deliciously, how lucky could one man get?

Mista observed you with hungry eyes. His stare was unapologetically locked on your form. He made no intention to hide his attraction for you. The day you’d joined Buccarati’s crew was the day his world flipped. He assumed his new teammate would be no one to fuck with based on what Bruno told him about your stand, but when you walked in? Needing to bend down slightly just to enter the doorway had him sweating in his seat. He didn’t know what to say as he watched you happily interact with his fellow teammates, immediately you blended with the group, but all that was running through his mind were all the fun things you could do with those muscles. He usually stayed silent around you, not out of dislike as one would assume from his piercing gaze, but fear of accidentally voicing one of those nasty thoughts kept him quiet. You didn’t seem to mind though, always including him in the conversation, you even understood his very valid fear of that dreaded number! How could god plop such a perfect person in his lap and expect him to not do anything about it? Alas, Bruno had specifically told them not to make you uncomfortable with any flirting so he bit his tongue. Your aura was calming, a contrast to your powerful stand, speaking of, he couldn’t get his under control. Whenever they could Sex Pistols was out and all over you. They climbed and clamored for your attention, thankfully you didn’t seem to mind, always entertained their antics when you could, even giving each one a small peck when they wouldn’t let you leave for a mission without Mista, to say he was done for was an understatement, it took one mission going foul for his resistance to snap. His stand moved faster than it ever had, piercing the skulls of the idiots who brought you pain. He left the last one slowly bleeding out kneeling down to wipe the matted hair from your forehead, “You okay baby? Don’t worry honey I’ll make the bastard hurt.” He spoke not breaking eye contact, his hand pointed behind him, grip steady as he unloaded in the poor fool who thought it was a good idea to make you bleed, the wound was small, not even deep enough to trouble Giorno but that didn’t matter to Guido, any slight against you was disrespecting the future parent of his children, and what kind of man would he be if he didn’t defend your honor?

[magalidragon]

paris is always a good idea | a Jonerys Drabble

Thank you @youwerenevermine​ for my wonderful birthday gift, I love it so much and I love Paris so much and Jonerys and you for making this for me so I felt inspired and wrote a quick little drabble thing, lol. It’s only the fourth time I’ve written Jonerys in a modern, non-Westeros world, but it was fun!  And I wanna’ go back so much!  Paris, je t’aime!

They met while in university, oddly enough, as fate would have it, on her birthday.

She had been there to study art, for a year abroad, savoring every last second wandering the wide, arched hallways of the Louvre, staring at grand masters for hours on end, burning the vibrant colors and mesmerizing brushstrokes into her memory, wishing she could be as good as them one day.  One day, someone would have her art in their house, and proudly boast they'd gotten it back when she was but a nobody, painting on the streets or in the grassy parks.  

Since it was her birthday, she decided to treat herself, and instead of heading straight to the university to get some time in the studio, she decided to get an ice cream at Berthillon, heading to the Ile-St-Louis instead of to the metro, taking her time to admire, as she often did, the glory of Notre Dame, it’s gargoyles and buttresses.

At the glacier she took her time selecting a flavor, did not even mind paying the exorbitant price and shouldered through tourists taking refuge from a cold rain that had begun to fall. She savored it, the clean water bouncing off her peat coat and the beanie she’d tugged over her silver hair.

She was about to set off, to eat her ice cream and wander into the Marais, perhaps drop down into the Latin Quarter— maybe take a trip to Chanel or Dior or Celine to admire the creations she couldn’t afford— when her ice cream went flying, straight onto the wet sidewalk. Where a mass of pidgins attacked it with gusto.

“Merde! Faites attention!” she shouted, stomping her Doc Marten on the ground in petulant annoyance.

The man who had bumped her because he’d been roughhousing with another friend had been apologetic.  He bought her another and said his name was Robb Stark. He was from Scotland, was on spring break with his buddies, which she didn’t care about. To apologize he invited her for a drink, especially when the worker who she’d told it was her birthday had commented on it again when she got another ice cream.

She figured why not?  He was attractive, sorry, and nice enough so she agreed, although she had commented his French was terrible best to speak English. “You’re English?” he had teased.

“Half and half,” she answered. English father, French mother.

At the comptoir where she suggested they meet, in Montmartre, she brought her roommate Missandei and Missandei’s boyfriend Grey. It was just a drink and they’d leave and go to the dinner Missandei planned to take her to anyway.

Except that’s where she met him.

The dark, brooding figure at the tiny table in the corner, ignoring Robb and Robb’s friend Theon, and a couple others, favoring silence and his drink. He was in all black, barely acknowledging her and slipped out for a smoke when Robb began to shamelessly flirt. She didn’t care about Robb, she cared about him.

Jon.

She exited, saw him lighting a cigarette against a lap post. She flicked her coat collar up and sidled towards him. “Puis-j’en avoir un?”

“Sorry I don’t speak,” he began, and his eyes— black in the orange lamplight glow— flicking to her. He smiled gently “French.”

She smiled and repeated her question in English.  “Can I have one?  A smoke  that is?”

He stuck the cigarette between his pouty, sinful lips, framed with a cropped dark beard, and reached into his coat pocket, removing a pack. She took one delicately and he lit it, cupping his hands around the tip so the wind didn’t blow it out.

A stream of smoke escaped her nostrils when she puffed and she smiled up at him, hoping he got the hint. “Do you like Paris?”

“Not especially.”

“Aw come on,” she teased. She hummed, closing her eyes and taking in the cold night. The electric buzz is people on the street and at the cafes and bars around them. “Paris is always a good idea.”

“Someone famous said that.”

“Audrey Hepburn.”

He sucked on the cigarette and smiled, a tiny one, the curve of his lip sly rather than shy.  “You aren’t in there with the rest of them.”

“Because it’s my birthday and I want to do what I want to do.”  She stubbed the cigarette out on the post and turned, disposing it in the bin by the door.  A quick text to Missandei: I’m going to skip dinner, I think I have a date, she turned and studied him.  “I’m…”

“Dany,” he said. He shrugged, finishing his smoke. “I remember.”  

Her eyes narrowed. “I didn’t think you were listening when Robb introduced me.”

“I was.”  He pulled the tartan scarf around his neck tighter.  He glanced towards Sacré-Cœur, illuminated white in the lights around its base. He smirked at her.  “You going back in?”

She shook her head. “No,” she drawled. She followed his gaze to Sacré-Cœur. “Have you been up there?”

“No.”

“You should. Some of the best views of Paris.”

He chuckled, voice tight. “You should invite Robb.”

“I think he might be a third wheel.”

It took him a second, the gears in his mind turning, understanding what she was saying. He cocked his head. His black curls were in a mess around his face. A few scattered rain drops landed on them, and he shook it free like a dog. Or a wolf, she thought, noting the animal embroidered on the edge of his scarf.

He narrowed his eyes again. “I told you I don’t really like Paris.”

“Why?”

“It’s loud. Busy. Dirty.”

She laughed. “Every city is like that but in Paris it’s different.”

“Why?”

Her bravado got the better of her and she stepped towards him, linking her arm through his. If he didn’t get it now, he was a stupid fool who deserved it when she kicked him into the gutter. “Because,” she murmured, rising to her toes, trying to gaze as directly as she could into his eyes, which she now saw were actually gray. His breathing quickened. “You’re with me.”

The wolf got the point with that comment. He allowed her to keep her arm around his and lead him towards the cathedral.  They spoke of nothing and anything on the long walk through Montmartre to the highest point in the city.  

He was in Paris for a research trip.  He was studying medieval weapons and was going out to Bayeux to study some relics. His cousin Robb and friends came along for the free trip.  They spoke about being starving artists in their field-- her literally an artist as it were.  They talked about Paris-- how much he disliked it, how much she adored it.  The top of Sacre-Coeur might have changed his mind, but he pretended he still didn’t get the appeal, so she dragged him back down to the streets, to her favorite all-night boulangerie, into the metro and across town to the Eiffel Tower, spinning in circles on the Champs du Mars.  They ran across the Pont-de-la-Concorde and across the Tullieries.  They wandered down the Seine, smoked cigarettes in the doorsteps of old buildings in the Latin Quarter, and drank cheap wine in one of the tourist-cafes near the Jardin du Luxembourg.  

They meandered back through the streets, the city oddly quiet, the rain stopping, and she brought him to her garret studio in the Bastille, up the six flights of stairs to the top of the building, where she shed her coat and boots adn scratched her fat cat Drogon’s ears, leading him to the wrought-iron bars in one of the four windows she had, pushing the window open and crawling out, up onto the roof where she wanted to show him something.  

“Look,” she directed, when he climbed up next to her-- less gracefully-- pointing to the lit-up Eiffel Tower.  

He cursed under his breath.  “It’s gorgeous.”

“It’s my favorite place in Paris.  The rent is steep, but it’s worth it for this.”  She chuckled.  “And it has the best view.”

He whispered.  “Yes, it does.”  

And to her surprise, since she didn’t realize the time, the tower began to twinkle, the 20,000 lights across its metal beams flickering and she glanced sideways; he wasn’t watching the tower, but her face.  She arched her brows.  “You know, the lights twinkle for five minutes every hour, on the hour.”  She smiled and shrugged, whispering.  “It’s a sign that you’re supposed to return to Paris.”

Instead of saying anything, like how silly that was, he leaned in and cupped her face in his wide palm, callused and warm, bringing her face to meet his, kissing gently, in the twinkly glow of the lights.  He pulled back a moment later, breathing, “I think I like Paris.  And you’er right...this place has the best view.”  His eyes were wide on hers, focused.  She chuckled, nodding in agreement, and pulled him back to her for another kiss.

That night she savored every moment with him, as they pulled each other’s clothes off slowly, kissing and touching, every smooth curve and muscle of each other, each hard ridge and plane of his strong, muscular body or her soft, lean one.  He touched her and kissed her and stroked her in ways she’d never experienced, bringing her to heights she’d only dreamed about.  It was intense, the lights behind her closed eyelids when she came, over and over, gripping his shoulders, hair, the bedframe behind her.  He rose up and over her, in and out, their bodies moving as one, thrusting and arching.  

She didn’t know if she’d see him again; if this was a one-time, romantic Parisian adventure, but in the morning when she woke, she found him coming back inside from getting pastries and coffees, the faintest scent of cigarettes and her toothpaste on his lips when he kissed her good morning.  

They exchanged their information, vowing to speak daily, and he would see her when he got back from Bayeux.  She couldn’t believe when he did call and he kept his word.  “When you lie, words lose their meaning,” he’d explained, obviously reading her surprise.  

And when her year ended in Paris, she found herself in London, back at university, dreaming of their magical time there, even when they made time for each other, going back and forth from London to Edinburgh; and he from Edinburgh to Paris during the last couple of months of her year there.  

They made it a priority; every single year they spent time in Paris, like they were students again, on that magical night.  

They grew older, no longer needing to find the cheapest drinks and cigarettes, or staying in studio garrets, eventually able to experience some of the best hotels and restaurants the city had to offer, as he sold books and became a well-known author and professor, and her dream of becoming a famous artist came true, when sure enough, someone bought one of her paintings on the side of the Seine, someone who happened to be an art dealer in New York.  

It was their city, where they met, and where they could remember.  

After they married, about fifteen years after that fateful birthday, they visited again, and spun together on the Pont-Neuf, kissing and murmuring how they loved each other and always would, and he took her back to the tiny studio garret, which was now theirs, and sat on the rooftop and watched the Eiffel Tower sparkle.  

“Paris is always a good idea,” she murmured, head in the crook of his neck, her back to his front, wrapped in a warm blanket, and his arms tight around her middle.  She tilted her face up to his, sated, and still hopelessly in love with him.  “Take me to Paris, Jon.”

He nuzzled his nose into her cheek, whispering.  “You are Paris, Dany.”

As it was the city where they’d met, fallen in love, and found true happiness, she grinned, because that was his way of saying how much he loved her.  She brushed her lips over his, sighing, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”  

And they kissed, as the Eiffel Tower lit up, and she curled up into him, falling asleep in the city of love and lights.

[bbnibini]

i personally interpret diavolo's tendency to “avoid lying” as nothing more than an underlying demonic way of being evasive and redirecting the attention away from himself, even if he isn't aware of it. i don't believe he means to act this way, but given his upbringing i can't help but think that this is the life he's always known, and no one has shown him otherwise. even the person who actively committed treason against him, belphegor, failed to see why he was initially uneasy with diavolo, and eventually grew to become tolerant of him. he has so much power that isn't only tied to his position and title and i think this is something that people fail to address often, although i cannot fault them for it. as you said, the initial impression that diavolo makes on new players is a positive one compared to others like solomon.

i enjoy the subtlety between the obm casts' traits as well—dissecting them and thinking of how i can incorporate them into the content i make is the same as playing around with my friends' genshin artifacts to see how i can come up with the best outcome, lolol ^^ even if i dislike an obey me character for how they compose themself or their beliefs, i still do my best to bring justice to them, you know?

solomon viewing the demons as “toys” in the official chart is something that is kind of correct? the devs seemed to be setting up a stereotypical view of him without diving too deep into how he actually views them. i'm not sure if you're aware of the b-log translations, but solomon stated that he'd be happier if the people around him were smiling compared to him being happier on his lonesome, and i think that might include demons as well. in another b-log translation, he mentions that he'd be willing to make pacts with every demon if the devildom were to disappear, and i couldn't help but think to how he puts humanity first and foremost.

from my point of view, one reason why he's made so many pacts was to ensure the safety of the human realm. making so many pacts means that he is in control of a huge threat, because he cannot trust demons to uphold their “vow” of peace. he seems to have mellowed out with the influence of mc's interactions with demons, but it's nice to see how strongly he holds onto his beliefs regardless.

another thing...! your twitter just so happened to appear on my tl with your new solomon post, i couldn't help but leave a follow <3 excited to see more blurbs over there from your previous works, hehe

Ooh! That's an interesting way to look at it. Either way, there's definitely some strange inconsistencies with his character. I really like him. He shares a lot of parallels with Solomon and Lucifer, but I also feel like his character development is very fragmented. The route system could have benefited his development greatly rather than the speed dating, reverse harem joshimuke setup we're getting now.

(Spoiler for main story and B's log content + some brief biblical references below)

I actually meant to say the Solomon in the main story now is heavily implied to not feel that way anymore. He's definitely a lot less guarded now, and like you said, he doesn't feel a need to make this barrier between him and the demons anymore because MC held his hand and pulled him away from that barrier and made him actually go past it and see the demons as friends. I follow the B's log updates too and Solomon had been consistently shown to showcase a lot of selfless traits. Never jealous, chooses his own battles, and someone who had really lived up to his name and became the peace his name was meant to symbolise. It's still pretty consistent with Solomon's considerate nature even in the earlier main story. It's just the circle of the people he cared about had widened. He had literally allowed himself to feel alive again, and the thought of that is just so painful and so beautiful and now I'm internally crying because THIS MAN IS SO LONELY I WANT TO HUG HIM. Him prioritising humanity is actually something I mentioned in the reblog on cypherleaf's post. He mentioned it around S2--and even admitted that to MC.

The Solomon we have now is actually a lot closer to his biblical counterpart--famous for being branded a wise fool who became shortsighted and threw away his blessed wisdom for love (or lust depending on the books or apocryphal texts you're reading).

Actually! Hear me out but what if, that desperate moment, where he was almost on the verge of death and summoned Barbatos (S4 or S3 I think?)was a seed that might have possibly sown that distrust he possibly had with demons?

:0 If you give me your username, I can follow you back! I'm not really used to twitter so let me know if you want that!!

[clefairymuke]

regrets | chapter eleven

prev. chapter | next chapter

pairing: levi ackerman x reader

themes: enemies to lovers, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut

tw: violence / explicit sexual content

word count: 1913

Ten feet. That's how far you had walked today without stopping to rest. Hange was practically jumping up and down, and Jean hugged you more tightly than he ever had before. For the first time in weeks, you started to feel a little less helpless. On the way back to the infirmary room, you held on to Jean's arm and limped back rather than being carried. It made you feel strong. Today was a happy day, which you had decided for yourself when you woke up, warm and cozy as you could possibly be under the thin white blanket that adorned the soft mattress. You felt refreshed; ready to work on your leg that morning, ready to see Jean, ready to make more progress. In the furthest part of your brain, you were also ready to see Levi that night. He was gone already when you woke up, like every other day, but that had never bothered you. The thought of good-morning small talk with Levi was awkward at best.

Now, you sat across from Jean with a hand of cards. You thumbed through them for what felt like the tenth time as Jean took his sweet time on his turn. He finally laid down a card, only for you to play one of the moves you'd thought out over the last five minutes as soon as he did. As the cycle started again, you found yourself looking out the window. The sun was almost ready to begin sinking, the blue of the sky becoming duller by the minute. You greedily awaited the purples and pinks that meant teatime. Throughout the day, the quietly nagging piece of your mind that wanted to see Levi grew bigger and bigger, until you finally had to admit to yourself that you were excited for it. You decided it was half because the tea was good, partially because he was good company, and a little bit because your hand still tingled when you thought of him.

Jean's turns got painstakingly longer as the game went on, so much so that you thought he was doing it deliberately. Your impatience grew as the sky turned orange, and Jean put the cards away. When he left, the sun touched the horizon.

The brevity of your alone time was unexpected yet welcome; the thoughts that possessed your brain while you sat in that room were hardly ever pleasant. You decided you were grateful that you didn't have your own bedroom -- the presence of company had become necessary in recent weeks. In that brief alone time, however, your mind did not hesitate to race. You recounted the events of the day before: Eren's anger, Levi's affection. For someone confined to a room, the past few weeks had surely been interesting.

You wondered about how it felt when he had touched you; you had many theories, but the leading one was that Levi put some sort of numbing solution on his hand to mess with you. Sure, it was out of character for him, but it was also out of character for you to do anything but dislike him. That was the theory you intended to stick beside.

Every time you heard the tiniest sound, your eyes shot to the door. Each time, you were met with disappointment. You looked around the room absentmindedly, eyes landing on the table that held only a glass of water. You leaned up as far as you could and grabbed it on two sides, sliding it between the chair and your bed. You felt accomplished when you laid back down, resting your hands on your stomach and focusing your eyes on the ceiling. You tried to push the thoughts of yesterday as far out of your mind as you could, but it was difficult. When the orange of the sky finally moved to pink, the door opened. There was Levi, as always, carrying along his tea set.

"Hey, Levi," you greeted him, a welcoming smile finding its way to the corners of your mouth. He nodded his head back to you as he sat down, his dark hair falling slightly forward as he leaned to pour his tea. For the first time, you studied the man sat in front of you. His lips were formed into a slight frown, more often than not. Though he was looking at his teacup, you knew his grey eyes looked focused, his thin eyebrows perpetually drawn down. You followed the slope of his nose with your eyes. His features were graceful yet sharp, all fitting cleanly together. The ends of his hair fell fell haphazardly along his cheekbones and ears, perhaps the one thing about him that wasn't perfectly neat.

"Why are you staring at me?" he asked when he looked up, sending blood rushing to your cheeks.

"I've been looking at this room for three weeks. There's nothing new about it. People look a little bit different every day," you answered him, your face hot. You pulled your eyes away from him in search of literally anything else to look at, finally focusing on your own folded hands.

"You're a pretty good liar, you know."

The two of you sat there chatting for at least an hour before you were interrupted by a knock at the door. Levi looked at you expectantly, and you told them to come in. It was a scout you didn't recognize, relatively tall, with shaggy brown hair that fell across his forehead. He only came in about a foot, then saluted. "Captain, the Commander needs to speak with you. He'd like you to come to his office as soon as possible," he said.

Levi nodded at him in dismissal, and the boy left as quickly as he had arrived. "I shouldn't be long. I'll be back soon," he told you as he stood. He followed the boy out the door and left you to the candlelit room all alone.

---

After two hours, you had long understood that Levi was a good liar, too.

It was now pitch black outside, the candle failing to provide much light. Sleep was fighting you tooth and nail as you shifted around the bed, attempting to find even one comfortable place. Your eyes were begging to shut, but your body wouldn't allow it. You continued like this for another half hour before your mind finally found rest, closer to passing out than comfortably drifting.

When Levi finally returned, the tea was cold. He was quiet as could be, careful not to wake you as he sat in the uncomfortable wooden chair; your position was less than peaceful, he noticed, your body more sprawled out than curled up and your hair in a tangled mess. Your eyebrows were drawn in tightly, your face displaying blatant discomfort. When he looked away, his eyes were pulled right back by a sound escaping your lips. It was soft, yet distressed. He wondered if he should wake you.

You started to toss and turn, your little gasps and groans growing more frequent and closer together. His brow furrowed, and he leaned forward. He tried to make out words, only deciphering the occasional "help" and "mom." Admittedly, it struck his curiosity. He sat and watched you for a moment more before rising from his seat and laying his hand on your shoulder, shaking you gently. "Hey, wake up," he said, trying to sound soft, but really only getting his typical tone across. He called your name, which tasted sweeter than it should have, twice before you finally roused awake.

You sat straight up, practically throwing his hand from your shoulder as you drew in shallow breaths. Your eyes darted around the room, vision a bit blurry, and you jumped when you saw Levi at your side. You were disoriented at best, not taking the time to speak. You noticed the tears brimming in your eyes after a moment, and immediately lifted your hands to wipe them.

"You were having a nightmare, I think. I'm sorry I took so long," Levi finally spoke up, not moving from your immediate bedside.

You cleared your throat, knowing sleep would still be present in your voice, before you replied. You looked over at him, his typical concerned expression more prominent than usual. "It's okay. It isn't your fault," you told him, laying your head in your hands. You felt vulnerable, and you didn't like it. Part of you wished Jean was here to snore loudly while you woke up in tears, not requiring you to interact with anyone.

"Are you okay?" he asked you. You noticed his hand twitch forward and then return to his side -- was he going to reach for you? You found yourself hoping he would.

"I'm . . ." you started, not really knowing how to finish your sentence. You tugged at a tangle in your hair. "Used to it, I guess. Not okay, not terrible. Just indifferent." You figured it summed up your emotions enough. Sleep had started to nag at your eyelids again, likely knowing it would be refreshing rather than restless now that you were no longer alone.

You laid your head back down and looked over at Levi, waiting for him to either reply or sit back down. He did neither; he stood there, studying your face as you had studied his only hours before. He didn't answer until his eyes finally met yours. "Do you need anything? At all?"

The look in his eyes was confusing, one you had never seen before. It was soft, almost endearing. Your voice answered him before your brain permitted it, and you regretted it as soon as it left your lips. "Would you lay with me?" You cursed your mouth and nearly vowed to never open it again. You felt yourself blushing, so much so that you wanted to turn over and bury your face in your pillow to never be seen again.

He wasn't embarrassed, though. His eyes widened a fraction for only a moment before he nodded, then sat on the edge of your bed and unlaced his boots. He pulled them off slowly and set them under the wooden frame, then stood and took off his jacket. He pulled his cravat from his neck swiftly and laid both over the back of the chair. He unbuttoned his shirt quickly, leaving only the gray shirt he wore beneath it. It joined the rest of his clothes on the chair. You moved away from the middle of the bed, allowing him plenty of room.

He didn't use it. He lifted the blanket and climbed in close to you, sliding his arm underneath your shoulders and gently guiding your head to his chest with his hand. Your heart had built up so much pressure you were sure it would explode out of your chest and leave the both of you a bloody mess. You adjusted yourself, shifting to face him and allowing your arm to drape over his stomach. You avoided looking up at him at all costs, but you could feel his eyes burning into the top of your head. This was the strangest, most foreign thing you had ever felt. The most off-center part was that you were entirely comfortable, your body more than relaxed despite your chest's unrelenting tightening.

"I --" you began, unsure of exactly what you were going to say. It didn't matter, because he was quick to interrupt you.

"Hush," he whispered. "Get some sleep."

[theladyregret]

Reading the new Ravenloft guide that came out today and...yeah...not liking the rewriting of Jander here...like...they literally just threw out what actually happens in the book and short stories he’s featured in and just made up their own history for him...and made him a pretty self centered asshole while doing it.

...Anna was a cursed ageless woman in an insane asylum, driven mad by her own experiences in Ravenloft, who he visited and cared for for over thirty years before finding himself falling in love with her. He tried to turn her after finding out she was dying from some incurable illness but she chose not to take his blood which resulted in her death and sent him into a grief filled blind rage...(which did result in the deaths of many other inmates but it wasn’t something he did intentionally as he’s literally described as having blacked out during the event and was horrified when he woke up and realized what he’d done). She was not an adventurer who’s companions he murdered when she turned him down...just...ya know...fyi bit of a huge difference there. He also only ends up in Ravenloft because afterwards he makes a vow to seek vengeance against whoever was responsible for Anna’s madness in the first place, Strahd, and that’s why he tried to destroy Strahd. Not because Strahd tried to enslave him wtf.

Like this is a horrible over simplification of everything that happened and just straight up cuts out or twists what actually happened in a really crappy way, like it feels like whoever wrote this had a genuine dislike for the character or just didn’t know what they were talking about. It’s also really vague about characters not featured in any books that I’m aware of? Like...his daughter? No real details on who she is beyond the fact she hates him? But no real reason as to why exactly or even how she came about?...no character sheet I can find, she doesn’t have her own entry in the guide even...nothing on her mother...I’m just...what? Who are these people?? What happened?

I’m so irritated and I feel bad for anyone coming across this character for the first time reading this guide. It does him a serious disservice.

Please go read Vampire of the Mists, and all related short stories, if you haven’t already. It’s one of my favorite books ever and this character is so much more then this. Especially if you’re someone like me who loves seeing monsters being the heroes.