#they deserve to get a raise but also i kind of want to kill them because it makes the game SO. FUCKING. L O N G

[trans-leek-cookie]

when I think about Geto Suguru i want to kill and torture him when I think about Mimiko and Nanako I want to kms. You give me twins who went from physical abuse to being in a cult and you don't even give them the grace of the guy who is basically Their Dad But Worse dying while they're alive? You just kill the bc. Fucking. Idk they fed him some fingers. You don't let them live without their fucking garbage dad who I want to kill and torture? You waste their potential? You waste the girls who could be really fascinating parallels to Maki and Mai? Twins with similar name schemes who suffer extreme abuse and their abusers are all massacred by one person- but while Mimiko and Nanako are everything to each other, Maki and Mai were pitted against each other and only able to connect at the last possible moment? Mimiko and Nanako were saved but Maki was saved by Mai, and then had to save herself??? I'm going to start killing innocent people at random.

[oh-meow-swirls]

whoever on 3's development team decided that nate, buck n hailey should have a single braincell between them better have gotten a raise cuz that's the best part of the game tbh-

[dickvinci]

and i know i could and possibly might just start posting about fics and what not that i'm writing her and set up a kofi and take suggestions and what not but. it's a lot of work.

[sansaorgana]

— BEDROOM HYMNS

PAIRING — Ser Gwayne Hightower x fem!Reader // Queen Alicent Hightower x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — Your sister-in-law wishes for you to become one of her ladies-in-waiting but you become so much more. Things complicate when your husband comes to visit.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — The title is from Florence + The Machine song. Alicent is a lesbian in this fic but she's also very conflicted about it. Reader is 100% bisexual. I wanted to write this fic for some time now because I have a crush on Alicent ever since Season One so yeah... Here we go... 😩😈

WARNINGS — cheating, homosexuality seen as something *wrong* (by Alicent), mentions of sexual activities (no actual smut – tiiiiny bit in the beginning)

WORD COUNT — 6,240

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

BEDROOM HYMNS

You moved away from between her trembling legs after a cry of pleasure muffled by her own hand that she had covered her mouth with. Alicent’s juices were dripping down your chin when you smirked at her and looked up to meet her big brown eyes. Those soft big brown eyes that you adored more than anything. You had always adored them. So full of sadness and softness and you had never wanted anything but to make her feel better.

“Have I pleased you?” You asked while peppering her soft inner thighs with your kisses although you knew the answer already. Her husband had no idea how to please her.

The Queen only nodded and looked away. Poor Alicent – she always felt bad and guilty after the peak had already been reached. The sudden realisation of her sin was soul-crushing but the tension and desire had been too great to ignore them. She deserved the relief and you did not see anything bad about it.

“How many times do we have to do this?” You sighed and lied next to her in her bed. Your fingertips caressed her sides and your lips attached themselves to the crook of her neck, smelling all the scented oils in her hair. She was The Queen of the Realm and she was pampered like no other Lady. “There is no shame in this.”

“There is a sin,” Alicent turned her head around to finally meet your gaze. She raised her hand to nervously play with the seven-pointed star pendant on her sweaty chest.

“Why?” You bit on your lip and caressed her auburn locks out of her face.

“It is betrayal,” she frowned as if she was getting frustrated with your lack of understanding.

“It would have been if you lied with a man,” you explained and kissed her cheek before laying on your back and staring at the ceiling.

“I should find your vague idea of morality perplexing,” Alicent pointed out and you couldn’t help but chuckle at her confession.

“But you do not and thank Gods for that,” you rolled your eyes with a smirk.

A silence occurred as Alicent kept playing nervously with the pendant between her fingers and you were staring at the ceiling and counting all the cracks.

“What kind of husband is my brother?” She asked suddenly and you turned your head around to look at her again.

“A good one,” you admitted, feeling nearly guilty for that because you knew why she was asking – her husband was not good. Not to her and not to her children.

“Why are you doing this then?” Alicent asked.

It was obvious why her brother was on her mind now. He would arrive at King's Landing any day now. You couldn’t wait to see Gwayne again after a few months of being apart and you only wished he had taken your son with him but he could not. Robyn was the eldest son and he was supposed to stay in Oldtown. He had just become a squire and leaving his knight for a few long weeks would not be advised, therefore you had to go on missing your boy. Day after day as if he was a burning hole in your chest. Mothers would always miss their sons, you assumed.

“To kill the time,” you shrugged your arms, not wanting to reveal how much Alicent meant to you and for how long. “And to help you. You are my friend and I love you,” you confessed.

Alicent always loved Princess Rhaenyra more. Your father was a Master of Coin in King Viserys’ Small Council and you were growing up together – three girls running around happily. Or rather – two girls following the Princess like two overjoyed puppies. Rhaenyra was the centre of everything for you and not only because she was the Princess but also because she meant everything to Alicent. No matter how much effort you were putting into making Alicent like you more, you were destined to fail for she always was choosing Rhaenyra over you.

It made you grow bitter towards The Princess but never towards Alicent. You were blaming yourself – you had to become more and try harder perhaps and maybe then you’d earn more than just leftover crumbs of her love and friendship.

You couldn’t understand your feelings back then – why was the attraction so strong, what was making you feel so attached to the young Hightower Lady. You were the same age and yet everything she said was like a command to you. Wherever she went, you followed. Even when you felt like a burden because she so clearly would rather be left alone with Rhaenyra. But Rhaenyra never minded your presence because to her you were only a pawn on the board, an ornament, an addition of no importance. So, you often witnessed the two girls laughing together, whispering, exchanging small gestures of affection. You were only watching. Observing as your heart ached.

During The Heir's Tournament you met Ser Gwayne Hightower, Alicent’s older brother. He was young then, eager to show off his abilities and make his family proud. Perhaps he did not have his sister’s big brown eyes but he had the auburn hair you loved so much about her and he had her softness about him. You were enamoured with him in no time and when he approached the royal box to greet his sister – he caught your eye and you caught his and for that moment when your eyes met, you felt butterflies all over your body.

Ser Gwayne Hightower received your favour on that day and the sparkles of joy in your eyes while you were throwing the wreath at him were very obvious to your father and to his as well. You could not know that then but they exchanged meaningful looks for a short moment.

Even though Gwayne lost the duel with Prince Daemon Targaryen, he did not lose your affection. In fact, witnessing him nearly winning and losing only because Prince Daemon chose to play dirty – it only solidified your feelings. Ser Gwayne was a righteous man, a chivalrous knight and a brave one, too. It took lots of courage to face Prince Daemon Targaryen himself.

Gwayne was carried away with his face covered in blood and dirt while his mind was filled with thoughts of you – of losing your favour and your interest. However, you hurried to his side right after the tournament ended to make sure he was fine. And at the sight of you – he truly was fine again.

You were only ten and five but you knew already that Ser Gwayne was the only man you could see yourself being married off to. Thankfully, your father saw that, too. Two years later you were sent to Oldtown and for the whole time in between you were exchanging letters. When Alicent was married off to King Viserys shortly after his wife’s death, you still felt bitter but not as much as you could because you mostly felt excited about your own upcoming wedding.

However, the sadness and anxiety on Alicent’s face on her wedding day were a sight you would never forget.

Years and years of the happy marriage had passed and you were still in touch with your sister-in-law because of the letters you were exchanging and her son that you and Gwayne were raising in Oldtown – Prince Daeron Targaryen. But other than that, you had your own life now to live, your own duties, your own offspring and Alicent was simply not occupying your mind as much as in your adolescent years. 

You were aware of King Viserys’ health getting worse and worse as Alicent was ruling the Kingdom in his name. The burden of responsibility was heavy and her marriage was getting more and more difficult. You couldn’t say the same of your own union – you loved Gwayne and he loved you. Just like every married couple you had your misunderstandings and disagreements but you were grateful for him every day of your life and you knew well that he felt the same towards you.

It was after breakfast on one of those days that seemed to be pretty typical in the morning and then they turned out to be life-changing for a person. Without a warning and without an ominous feeling deep in one’s gut, they just happened and changed lives.

A letter came to you from Queen Alicent and you expected nothing of great importance in it so you put it below the pile of letters you had to respond to this morning. You sat by your desk and dipped the feather in the black ink as you started to perform one of your duties as Lady Hightower, helping your husband to run Oldtown in his father’s name.

Letter after letter, until finally you were left with the last one. You opened it with a small yawn, which turned into a frown after reading Alicent’s plea and request.

“What is it?” Gwayne entered your chambers this very moment but his smile dropped at the sight of your face.

You folded the letter suddenly as if it was a secret or something dirty but it only increased your husband’s curiosity as he approached the table and raised an eyebrow at you.

“What is it?” He repeated the question and you pinched the bridge of your nose, trying to find the right words.

“It is from your sister,” you replied and looked up to meet his confused gaze. He knew about your friendship and for you to react this way at one of Alicent’s letters was simply unusual.

“Is he dead?” Was all Gwayne asked.

“No, Gods, no,” you shook your head and took a deep breath in. “Not yet,” you added.

“What is it then?” Gwayne lifted your chin up gently to make sure your eyes would still be on his. You swallowed a lump in your throat and finally decided to tell him what his sister had requested.

“Queen Alicent wishes for me to become one of her ladies-in-waiting,” you revealed and Gwayne’s confusion only grew. “She feels lonely in King’s Landing, she needs a friend by her side. Somebody she can trust.”

“It is out of the question,” Gwayne took the folded paper from your hands and read the letter himself, still standing above you as you nervously fidgeted with your fingers.

Your own feelings were chaotic at that moment. Something in your heart wanted to run to King’s Landing at this very moment because Alicent needed you and because you wanted to make her life easier and make her happy. You had always wanted nothing but her happiness.

But you had your own duties in Oldtown and you had your husband here and your children. You could not just leave like that, could you? Especially when Oldtown was so far away from King’s Landing.

“It is out of the question,” Gwayne said again and threw the letter on your desk. “Reply to her that your Lord Husband does not agree.”

“She is your sister,” you looked up at him, pleadingly.

“Yes and I have nothing but love for her in my heart but her request is selfish,” he clenched his jaw as he looked you up and down, visibly surprised that you were not agreeing with him on this. “Why does she want to take you away from me? You are my wife.”

“Your wife – not your property,” you reminded him.

“That is debatable,” Gwayne huffed and looked away but before you could scold him, he continued with more. “Living in a different city, different castle, so far away from me… Will you still be my wife?” He turned his head around in an attempt to try to read your emotions.

“I will forever be your wife,” you stood up and took his hand into yours before placing it on your chest where your heart was. “But she needs me, Gwayne. She’s all alone there with no one by her side.”

“Father is with her,” Gwayne interrupted you. “He always favoured Alicent.”

“You do know that being favoured by him is a burden, not a prize,” you reminded. “Please, let me go. For some time at least. Until The King dies. It should not be for long and I’ll take the girls with me,” you tried to convince him as your fingers caressed his hand on your chest. “Please,” you whispered, looking up deep into his eyes.

After a long moment of silence and hesitation, your husband nodded his head reluctantly.

A few months later, you found yourself standing in the courtyard of The Red Keep, awaiting your husband’s arrival. He had a business to deal with in The Crownlands and he wanted to spend a few days with his family, too. You were caressing the creases on your dress with your hands and your teenage daughter Margaery was fixing her younger sister’s hairdo. Little Wyllow had been missing her father the most and she couldn’t wait for his arrival. In fact, she had made you and Margaery wait there since early morning and at this point you were exhausted already but you didn’t complain since you couldn’t wait to see Gwayne again either.

Even though it also felt a little weird and awkward since your mind was being flooded with memories of his sister’s body tangled with yours underneath her royal silk sheets. Her plump lips parted and soft moans escaping them, her beautiful big brown eyes hazy and filled with tears of shame and pleasure…

You were trying to shake those thoughts and images off of your head when you were interrupted by the sound of the horses approaching the gate.

“Father!” Wyllow nearly ran straight under the horse if she was not stopped by Margaery.

Your older daughter gave you a scolding look and she was right to do so because it was your duty to watch over your children, meanwhile you were distracted by the memories of dirty acts instead.

When you watched Gwayne jumping off of the horse, your heart clenched in your chest at the sight of him and you suddenly realised why Alicent was so filled with shame and guilt because now you felt them, too.

His handsome face, his eyes sparkling at the sight of you, his auburn hair reflecting in the sun… He truly was the man you loved. You just couldn’t help the fact you loved his sister, too.

“Father!” Wyllow finally was free to run into his arms and he crouched down to hug her and kiss her forehead.

“I am so happy to see you, little bird,” Gwayne cupped his daughter’s cheeks and she giggled.

He straightened himself but Wyllow clinged to his left hand so he used his right one to caress Margaery’s face lovingly.

“You’re growing fast, my love,” he pointed out.

“I am trying my best, Lord Father,” Margaery nodded her head with a smile and then she took a step back to get out of the way and let him greet you.

“Lord Husband,” you gave him a nervous and soft smile. Gwayne tilted his head a little and your heart skipped a beat. He was a very observant man but there was nothing that would give you away, right? What could it be?

“Lady Wife,” he smiled at you and took two steps ahead to be able to kiss the palm of your hand. Whatever he had noticed, he pretended it was nothing. At least for now.

“You must be exhausted,” you pointed out. “The chambers have been already prepared for you and I’m going to tell the maids to fix you a bath.”

“Does it mean we are not sharing the same chambers during my stay here?” Gwayne raised an eyebrow at you.

Margaery cleared her throat and she took Wyllow by her free hand.

“Shall we go inside now? Let our Lady Mother greet Lord Father properly,” she dragged her protesting sister behind her.

“She is becoming a fine Lady,” you chuckled awkwardly. “I can’t help feeling that the air and water in King’s Landing are making her grow up faster. Perhaps she is spending too much time with women older than her,” you explained, clasping your hands in front of yourself as if you had no idea what to do with them. “Come with me, I am sure you want to greet your father and sister, too.”

“I do,” Gwayne followed you inside while some of the men he had taken with him were taking care of his luggage with the help of The Red Keep’s servants. “You still haven’t answered my question about the chambers,” he pointed out when you were in the staircase together.

“My darling,” you turned around abruptly, making him stop his walk. “Your chambers are close to mine, please do not get cross with me. Those past few months I have learnt to love my solitude,” you explained and Gwayne tilted his head again but he only nodded.

“Let it be then,” he only said.

With each one of your husband’s kisses and each one of his touches, each one of your reached peaks and cries of pleasure, you felt more and more purified of sin as if his body was washing away Alicent’s smell off of you. After months of not laying together, you were lost in each other for hours with caring very little about getting any sleep. You were watching the sun rise behind the window when you were too exhausted to go on as you were laying on Gwayne’s chest, drawing circles there with your fingers and his hand was playing with your hair, gently massaging your scalp.

“Have you been faithful to me?” You asked casually and you could feel his muscles tensing under you.

You had no right to ask that – but he did not know of it.

“I have,” he answered. “Of course I have.”

“And if I say that the whores count, too?” You looked up playfully.

“I have been faithful to my Lady Wife,” Gwayne shook his head and you spotted a slight irritation on his face. He did not like it when his honour was being questioned – he was a knight, after all. “Why do you ask? Have you not been faithful to me?”

A shiver went down your spine at his chilling accusation.

“How can you ask me that?” You gasped.

“You have accused me first.”

“Because you are a man,” you reminded him.

“I am. And I know what men are like,” Gwayne nodded his head. “They must all be following you around – a beautiful Lady far away from her husband is like an invitation,” he finally cracked a smile, revealing that he was only jesting.

“I do not want any man but you,” you assured him as the tension left your body because you did not have to lie about it.

“That is good to know, my love,” Gwayne kissed the top of your head. “You had me worried with your cold greeting and not letting me into your chambers.”

“Are you not in my chambers now, Lord Husband?” You teased him and placed a kiss on his chest where his heart was. “And if my greeting was cold, then I owe you an apology. I spend too much time around your sister and her husband and I keep forgetting that some marriages are happy. That mine is…” You wanted to look up to meet his gaze but you couldn’t as something inside of you was stopping you.

“That is a shame,” Gwayne only said.

“It is, darling, but you are here now to remind me.”

You were sitting in the same chambers as Alicent, embroidering side by side and even though you were using no words, you found each other’s company comforting. Your arms were brushing as you both were focused on creating beautiful patterns on the same piece of fabric to make the work faster. It was supposed to be a beautiful green blanket with embroidered little dragons. 

Princess Helaena was sitting nearby and embroidering spiders on her own piece of fabric. Her cousin, Lady Margaery Hightower was sitting next to her and teaching her younger sister the craft. It was peaceful, cosy and quiet – you loved those moments the most because it was nearly as if Alicent was your own Lady Wife and you were just enjoying the time spent together with your family, far away from all those loud and obnoxious men surrounding you everywhere. These chambers were your escape and your own queendom.

When the doors opened, everyone except for Helaena looked up with a slight irritation since the man entering this sanctuary was nothing but an intruder. Even if the man was Ser Gwayne Hightower, who was loved by every person inside the chambers.

He cleared his throat when you gave him a soft smile, your arm still brushing Alicent’s and you were sitting in a way that made sure you were facing each other. You had never thought about it before but it was quite intimate indeed. Your husband’s tilted head made you realise that he had just observed something and after a short while you understood what it was as you moved away slightly.

“Brother,” Alicent greeted him. 

“Lord Husband,” you nodded at him.

“Forgive me for interrupting. I would like to take Margaery for a walk around the gardens,” he extended his hand towards his older daughter as Wyllow looked up at him with pleading eyes. “It must be Margaery alone this time but I promise you, little bird, I am going to take you for a walk later, too. Perhaps we’ll walk to the bay and watch the ships,” he assured her and she sighed with relief.

“You can finish without my help now, I believe,” Margaery handed the fabric to her younger sister. “Do try, at least. If you face any challenges, Lady Mother or Helaena shall help you.”

Helaena looked up when her name was mentioned and she gave Wyllow a soft smile that encouraged her little cousin to keep going. When Margaery stood up and left the sofa, Wyllow moved closer to Helaena and The Princess did not seem to mind.

“Can you help me with the ladybug?” She asked and Helaena’s face lit up at that.

“Lord Father,” Margaery took Gwayne by his arm and bowed her head at you and Alicent before walking out of the chambers with her father.

“I am wondering what is the matter my Lord Husband wishes to discuss with Margaery,” you hummed to yourself.

“She is ten and five now,” Queen Alicent pointed out. “What is the only possible matter that fathers wish to discuss with their daughters at that age?”

You furrowed your brows at her words because she was right and you did not like the sound of that. It was a shame that she was right, too, and not only for your own daughter but for every woman in this Realm. 

You saw Gwayne again before dinner, on your way to the dining hall. He was walking down the stairs and you rushed to him to walk by his side. He offered you his arm and you took it.

“I have a question for you, Lord Husband,” you started, nearly aggressively and he raised his eyebrows at that fierceness.

“What is it, my love?”

“Are you planning to marry our sweet Margaery off so quickly? I do not wish for her to get wed too soon,” you told him, hoping he would understand your point of view because sadly, in the end, the decision was his to make for women had always been properties of men – once her father’s, then her husband’s.

Sometimes you wished you had become a septa.

“Not soon, no. But she is ten and five. That was the age you were in when we met,” Gwayne reminded you with a smile.

“Yes, indeed, my darling, but it was us both meeting and falling in love. That is different, you must admit,” you pursed your lips.

“I must, indeed. Do not worry, I am not willing to force anything upon our sweet daughter. I have only told her to start looking around for suitable matches… soon,” your husband explained. “I am sure King’s Landing is full of important young men.”

“I do not wish for her to get married here. This place is rotten and so are its people,” you sighed. “My greatest wish is for Margaery to marry a man from The Reach.”

“We all have wishes, my darling wife,” Gwayne’s answer was nearly mocking but he spotted your annoyance so he looked around to make sure you were not being seen before pulling you by your waist and pushing you against the wall to steal a kiss from your lips. “Gods, I missed this,” he whispered and you felt your cheeks heating up.

“Gwayne!” You scolded him playfully. “I missed this, too,” you added and caressed his cheek with your fingers.

But his smile dropped and eyes became serious all of the sudden. You stayed like that in a short moment of silence before he dropped the question that turned your guts inside out:

“What is the nature of your relationship with my sister?”

You were taken aback by his question and you moved your hand away from his face before taking a deep breath in, trying to steady your heartbeat.

“Alicent is my best friend,” you looked deep into his eyes, surprised by your own courage to lie like this…

But was it a lie? She was your friend, after all.

“There is intimacy between you two that I can only wish for between us these days,” Gwayne whispered and you bit on your lower lip.

“She is my main companion for weeks now,” you tried to explain.

“Are you still planning to come back home after The King dies?” Gwayne lowered his voice even more since talking about the monarch’s death could be seen as treason.

“Y-yes, of course,” you nodded nervously.

“Why the tremble of your voice?” Gwayne raised an eyebrow.

“What are you accusing me of?” You suddenly clenched your fists, trying to take another route of getting out of this awkward situation. “Your implications are indecent. You have been accusing me of obscenities ever since you arrived here. You wound me deeply, Lord Husband,” you straightened yourself.

“You have accused me first,” Gwayne reminded you.

“Without any reproach thrown at you. I have asked out of simple curiosity,” you informed him.

“You are right, do forgive me,” he reached for your hand to place a delicate kiss upon the palm of it. You sighed, feeling extremely guilty.

“You are forgiven,” you whispered, nearly inaudibly, because it felt wrong to be the one saying those words.

In fact, at that very moment, you promised yourself to fix everything. You promised yourself to invite Gwayne to your chambers again for the night and let his touch to purify you like on the previous night. And you would go to The Sept and you would pray the sin away, you would beg for forgiveness, you would be a better wife, perhaps you would beg Alicent to let you go back to Oldtown with your husband.

Yes, that was the plan.

In the early morning you couldn’t tell that you were well-rested. Your muscles were sore after the previous two nights and your head was hazy but you still got dressed up quickly when the sun was rising and creeping inside your chambers to shine upon Gwayne’s auburn hair. You leaned in to kiss his forehead and you left him sleeping to visit The Sept and be able to go back to The Red Keep before breakfast.

You had never been a devout but you were not a savage either. You believed in Gods and now more than ever you needed redemption.

You expected to be alone there at such an early hour but no – of course not. Queen Alicent was already there, kneeling by the stone table and lighting the candles. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath in. She was your greatest temptation and it was a cruel joke that the Gods had played on you to put her there at this time when you visited The Sept to pray her very own self away from your life.

Alicent looked up, surprised to see you. Her soft features were as sad as usual but at the sight of you she seemed to be a bit happier – relieved, in a way. Your heart clenched inside your chest. How could you ever want to leave her? You couldn’t. She was too dependent on you. Her happiness was and so was her sanity. Leaving her would be equal to killing her.

“I have not expected you in The Sept at such an early hour,” she commented as you kneeled next to her.

“I have not expected myself here either,” you smirked. “I came here to ask for forgiveness.”

“Forgiveness? Aren’t you always the one telling me that what we do is no sin?” Alicent furrowed her brows.

“I have lied to my husband. That is a sin,” you confessed and Alicent did not say anything to this. “I… I will have to go back to Oldtown, I think… I can’t… I can’t go on like this,” you looked down and Alicent remained silent but you didn’t have to look at her to know her big brown eyes were filled with tears. “I miss my son and I miss Oldtown… King’s Landing is corrupt and I do not wish for my daughters to grow up here. I… I miss Gwayne, too. I love him, I love him, I love him…”

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Sudden, harsh question made you look up to meet her teary gaze.

“I’ve been loving him ever since I saw him during the tournament. You were there, sitting by my side,” you reminded her.

“You love him because he is my brother but your life has always revolved around me,” Alicent pointed out and you felt your cheeks heating up.

“You… You knew?” You only asked.

“I was blind to choose Rhaenyra because she was never for me to reach. She was The Princess and you were equal to me, so devoted. Blindly, very often. I took you for a fool and only after losing you, I realised. When you were sent to Oldtown, I suddenly understood that my only friend had left my side,” Alicent explained. “My only friend and the only person who has ever… Who has ever loved me – except for my mother.”

“Gwayne loves you, too,” you pointed out.

“Does he? He took you away from me,” Alicent’s jaw clenched and your eyes widened. She was not being rational but you knew why – she was scared of losing you again. In fact, she was determined to make you stay by her side.

“You will not let me leave, will you?” You whispered.

Alicent opened her mouth to say something but then her face softened and she stood up rapidly to walk away.

“I am sorry… I do not wish to… Act like this… I do not recognise myself,” she admitted with her voice full of shame. She raised her hands up to her mouth as she nervously bit on the soft skin around her fingernails.

You didn’t answer because you were too lost in your own thoughts. Was she right again? About you loving Gwayne only because he was her brother? You had never thought about it before. It would mean your whole marriage was a lie, an illusion – or rather a delusion.

“When I’m with him, I don’t imagine you,” you stood up as well when the realisation hit you. “But when I’m with you, he doesn’t exist to me. It’s as if there were two of me.”

“I do not understand,” Alicent shook her head. “To me, there is only you,” she confessed and laid her eyes on you.

You didn’t know what to answer. You swallowed a lump in your throat instead.

“I am flawed, poisoned…” Alicent continued. “I can only feel this way towards other women. I felt this way towards Rhaenyra until a certain moment and then… Then my whole life was about you. I have spent hours inside this Sept, trying to pray this away,” Alicent’s silent tears streamed down her cheeks.

“I do not have such a conflict. I can love both men and women,” you told her. “I can love you and I can love Gwayne…”

“I do not wish to share you!” Alicent interrupted you and then she hid her face in her hand as she sobbed.

“Women are not their own property. I am not the one to decide if I can be shared,” you answered diplomatically.

You felt sorry for her but you also felt sorry for Gwayne that he was being betrayed behind his back by his own wife and sister – two women he loved the most except for his daughters. He would die for you both, he would kill to protect you or to defend your honours – even though none of you had an honour anymore. He was the real victim here.

But one more look at Alicent’s sad eyes was enough to break you again. You approached her to cup her face and kiss her softly. She protested in the beginning since you were inside The Sept but you didn’t give a fuck about it anymore – you would go to Seven Hells anyway.

“I shall not leave you,” you promised her.

When you came back to your chambers, Gwayne was dressing up in front of the mirror. He raised an eyebrow at you entering the room.

“Where have you been?” He asked.

“In The Sept to pray,” you answered truthfully.

“Has my sister turned you into a devout like her already?” He chuckled.

“She has a great influence on me,” you nodded and walked up to him to kiss his cheek.

“You even smell like her,” he said and your heart skipped a beat.

“I am fond of her scented oils and she allows me to use them,” you answered.

“It feels weird when I’m fucking you, I have to admit,” Gwayne chuckled awkwardly and so did you.

“You shall fuck me more then,” you pointed out quietly.

“Even more, Lady Wife?” He shook his head with another chuckle.

“Until her scent is gone,” you explained and looked out of the window.

Gwayne did not say anything to this but his smile disappeared. From the corner of your eye you saw his reflection in the mirror and you realised that he had finally understood what was going on behind his back.

After a while, which felt like forever, he cleared his throat:

“It is a putrid place indeed.”

“You must take me far away from here,” you turned around to grab his arm and your heart broke when you felt him flinch a little. “You must save my soul and take me home,” you pleaded despite the promise you had given to Alicent earlier but that promise had not been given sober. You had been intoxicated with her.

“You must come back home yourself, my love,” Gwayne smiled sadly at you and caressed your hair gently, “for I do not wish to force anything upon you. You are always kind enough to remind me that you are not my property, aren't you? And I agree,” he nodded, “this decision is for you to make.”

And you didn’t know what to say or do because there was no decision that felt right and no decision that didn’t feel wrong either. Gwayne was your duty and your sacrifice and Alicent was a self-indulgent sin but you loved them both so much that you cursed the whole Hightower bloodline for existing because your life would be so much easier without them.

You knew what Gwayne was expecting of you – he expected you to choose your duty because – just like his sister – he was all about honour and decency. But you didn’t want your husband to feel as if you were choosing him only because of your marriage vows – you wanted him to know that you cared for him, too, even though he wouldn’t believe you now.

But there was only one choice for you anyway, wasn’t it? You couldn’t just stay with Alicent and pretend that it was the right thing to do. You couldn’t abandon your family and your duties for her and she had to understand it.

You looked deep into Gwayne’s eyes and your own filled with tears at the sight of all the pain and sadness in his. You dropped your hand down from his arm to intertwine your fingers with his.

“I do not think of myself as flawed or poisoned for feeling the way I feel,” you explained to him. “But I do not wish for my nature to spoil our union. If anybody can save me, it would be you,” you whispered. A plea. A desperate cry for help. “I am a mother, I am a wife, I am Lady Hightower and my home is in Oldtown.”

Your heart, however, would forever be divided; torn and bleeding. The deep, burning hole was forever to stay there for one reason or another.

MASTERLIST

[avionvadion]

Eleanora is going to be teaching all the boys the lyrics and moves to This Is Halloween and she's putting Sebek in the front of it all because he's the only one who actually made it to the hill and talked sense into Skully. XD

He is the best boy. She might actually ask the Mayor if he can make a "best boy award" because it be Sebek. Malleus is pouting, but he knows Sebek deserves the praise. Little does Sebek know, this event most likely earns him the honor (cough punishment cough) of being Eleanora's bodyguard via Malleus' orders.

Also, Skully is going to be the missing son of the "Halloween King" in my fanfic so he'll be very much alive.

For those curious (I'm taking many creative liberties with these events, goodness gracious) about the timeline: Skully happens in November. We meet Fellow and Gidel in October, but they don't join NRC until January because Fellow needs time to think about and realize some stuff before catching Kalim and asking if his previous offer was still open.

...Fellow is going to be Vice Dorm Leader. NO LISTEN OKAY HEAR ME OUT, IT MAKES SENSE.

He and Eleanora actually have a lot in common. Charismatic, are usually able to talk their way out of most situations, oldest of the group, big sibling figures, kind of jaded, and are both struggling but doing their best to survive despite circumstances and are incredibly extremely broke. Also his coat matches the Ramshackle blue and he has the little hat. He'd be able to keep Skully and Grim in line when Eleanora isn't there, and Gidel already listens to him! It just makes sense, y'know? XD In like the goofiest way. Also they both have canes.

...Honestly surprised no one's asked why El has a cane yet. I mentioned it before, but nothing. Hmm. Oh, well.

Also I might have drawn Gidel a bit too small since I headcanon him around ten or twelve-ish, but he is probably malnourished so him being shorter than he actually should be checks out.

Fellow is doing his best given he probably found Gidel when he was a teenager and the tiny child was probably a toddler then, but if tiny child doesn't get enough to eat (and we know there are days the two of them go without eating, based on the SSR vignette) then tiny child isn't gonna grow properly. So he being smoll makes sense.

CAN WE PLEASE MENTION THAT FELLOW PROBABLY CUTS GIDEL'S HAIR HIMSELF!??? LOOK AT THE BACKS OF THEIR HAIR. (Not in my drawing because it's my first time drawing them and I definitely got some of their hair wrong, so look at their actual official art) THEY'RE SO SIMILAR. FELLOW BE CUTTING GIDEL'S HAIR AND TRYING TO TEACH HIM WHAT LITTLE HE KNOWS OF THE ALPHABET/WHAT LITTLE HE KNOWS HOW TO READ AND PROBABLY JUST SAW THIS TINY TODDLER ON THE STREET AND WENT, "Okay, you're my little brother now" AND DECIDED TO RAISE HIM. THAT'S SO FREAKING CUTE. OH MY GODS.

Anyways, I love them. :3

The only one not going to be allowed at Ramshackle is Rollo XD boy tried to KILL Eleanora's dragon boyfriend. She has a grudge. Oh, he wants to be a visiting student? Hell nah. Screw you, Crowley, go ahead and blackmail her, she has Poma and Divus on her side. Rollo can find somewhere else to stay.

NO ROLLO IN RAMSHACKLE, SHE HAS A SWORD IN HER CANE AND SHE WILL USE IT ON HIM. (Thanks Ortho.)

[auroralwriting]

Hi love! I’d like to request a mob!bucky fic where he is the man that runs New York and the reader is his wife who convinces him to let her start opening hospitals and homes for people in need etc. one of his rivals tries to take her while at a charity thing and calls Bucky weak and losing his touch so he literally destroys him to protect his woman.

I understand if you are too busy but would love ya forever if you could write what has been in my head!

guard dog

mob!bucky barnes x wife!reader

bucky doesn't take too kindly to people hurting his wife.

word count: 1.7k | warnings: violence, cursing, bucky having a sweet spot for his doll ♡

i wrote this one so fast. thank you for this amazing request!! i hope i did your vision justice!

Everyone knew of Mr. James Barnes. He practically ran New York with every politician pressed under his palm, along with every rich business man and woman wrapped around his little finger.

The one thing you needed to understand about James, Bucky, as his wife called him, was that you were never to be messed with.

To Bucky, you were the epitome of innocence. No one was allowed to lay a finger on you or say anything that could even potentially upset you. You were his world, and he made sure it was protected.

Of course, he was absolutely right. You were truly an angel on earth, the truest definition of kind. Little did everyone know, while they were wrapped around Bucky's finger, he was wrapped around yours.

"Bucky, you cannot kill someone on a Sunday," You'd gripe. "Sunday's are holy days, and the days I make my cannoli. You don't want cannoli?" Bucky would give in, rescheduling to fit your needs. "And see if that guy wants a cannoli, too. If I were gonna die, I'd sure as hell want a nice, homemade cannoli."

You practically controlled his every little move. You kept Bucky somewhat grounded for a mobster. You also made sure to keep him from disappearing off the face of the earth.

"Hun, you mom's coming over for dinner tomorrow- No, I don't want to hear it! Anyone who had the guts to raise you and not lose their mind deserves a nice, home cooked meal with her family. Dinner, six o'clock, be there."

Your latest topic, though, was helping people. You didn't give too much mind to the people Bucky worked with, but your mind was set on the homeless. Some news report on CNN had utterly convinced you that you needed to be the change in the world.

"Buck, please!" You begged, latching your hands onto your husbands arm. "This is my calling!"

A small grin formed on Bucky's face, "I thought your calling was to foster little orphans. Or was it to start an animal rescue. Oh, maybe-"

"James, I'm serious!" Use of Bucky's real name was a sign you wanted him to take you seriously. "Please, I just want to help the innocent people out there who don't have anything or anyone."

With your puppy dog eyes gleaming at him, Bucky knew he couldn't say no. "Alright, alright. But I get to choose the place since I'm buying."

A large smile erupted on your face as you leaped to hug Bucky. "Oh, thank you! Thank you so much, baby!"

Bucky's wide palms rubbed your back softly as he kissed your head. "Anything for my precious world."

And so, the hunt for the perfect shelter was in place. Immediately, you called some friends to bounce ideas back and forth off them. Eventually, you decided on the name Feast. Food, emergency aid, shelter, and training. It was everything anyone could ever need. It was perfection.

Even Bucky had to agree, it sounded pretty solid. He was amused at the acronym, enjoying the excitement your project gave you.

After a few months, Feast was nearly up and running. To gather attention, you decided to host a gala. Bucky helped you invite anyone and everyone important. You needed to get Feast's name out there, and the big people were who would do it. Secretly, Bucky only agreed because he knew he could.. convince the ones who denied to lend a hand.

The night of the gala approached. You sat with Natasha, as she finished putting on her makeup. "Natty, you look so pretty already."

"Yeah, but you know Steve likes the shimmer. I just want to add a little bit more," Natasha replied, referring to her husband, aka Bucky's best friend. It helped a lot that your best friend was married to Bucky's best friend. Natasha and you did almost everything together.

"Steve would like you if you wore a cardboard box," You groaned. "Come on, we're going to be late!"

Natasha laughed as she stood up, "Alright, alright! You, Mrs. Barnes, are going to have a wonderful outcome I hear."

Your heart leaped at her words. "Really?"

"Yeah, I heard anyone's who's anyone is coming." You squealed at Natasha's words and lead her down to the limo where Bucky and Steve were waiting.

The moment Bucky laid eyes on you, he felt like he was falling in love all over again. "Doll," He breathed out, holding your waist carefully with both hands. "You're an angel,"

You blushed at his words, "You always know just what to say to me,"

"That's why you married me," Bucky teased, knowing all too well there were too many reasons to name as to why you married him. He still felt so lucky.

"You both look amazing," Steve complimented. "But if we don't get going soon, we'll be late."

Quickly, the four of you shimmed into the limo, having some champagne and listening to soft music while you made your way to the gala. You'd left all the interior planning up to Natasha, who's taste was the best in all of New York. You trusted her with your life. After making your way into the hall, it was solidified once more that Natasha was incredible.

The hall was beaming with gold and silver, a soft jazz band playing and a bustling bar full of the most appealing looking drinks you'd seen in a long time. You gave Natasha a thankful look as Bucky began to softly pull you away. He'd spotted the Mayor, and he was itching to make conversation.

It was probably two hours of chit chat later and you found your feet aching from your insanely high heels. You leaned up to Bucky's ear, "Hun, I'm going to go grab a drink. Want anything?"

"Rum?" Bucky muttered back as you gave an eager smile.

You sat at the bar, ordering yours and Bucky's drink. After a moment or so, you noticed the presence of someone in the seat beside you who wasn't there previously.

"Mrs. Barnes," You looked over to see Brock Rumlow. He, too, was a mobster. However, he wasn't one Bucky or Steve were particularly fond of. You didn't even know he was invited tonight. "What a lovely event this is."

"Oh, Mr. Rumlow," You said with surprise laced in your voice. "Thank you, it took a lot of preparation."

"I'm just surprised," Rumlow hummed. "Such a.. charitable thing your husband is endorsing."

You shook your head, "It was all my idea."

"Of course it was," Rumlow bitterly responded. "Barnes' pretty little play thing wanted a new passion project to occupy herself. How expected."

You felt your heart pang at his words. "Oh," You stuttered, losing any sense of confidence.

"I got you at a loss for words?" Rumlow's voice was low as he began to lean over your figure. It felt daunting rather than sultry. It felt dangerous.

"Rumlow, please back up a little bit," You pleaded as Rumlow's smirk grew. "I don't have any space."

"That's the point, baby girl." He continued to prowl over you like a hungry beast, ready to pounce on its prey. For a moment, you felt overcome with fear. The way Rumlow eyed you made you wish you had worn a more conservative dress.

Before you could blink, Rumlow was pushed back harshly. It caused you to jump up and into someones arms. You didn't even need to question who it was; you knew Bucky's touch anywhere.

"What the fuck were you doing with my girl?" Bucky growled as Rumlow shook himself out of shock.

"Just making conversation," Rumlow dryly responded. "She's a joy to talk to."

Bucky scoffed, "It looked like you were about to drag her out of here."

"And so what if I was?" Rumlow challenged. "What would you do, huh, Barnes? You've gone weak, she's making you lose your touch. You're just her silly little guard dog. No one's scared of you when everyone knows that you'd never do anything to upset your precious-"

Before Rumlow could even finish his sentence, Bucky was on top of him, punches pushing his head back and forth, left and right. The sickening sounds of skin against skin was too much for you to bare, but luckily, Steve had come right on time. He was quick to pull you behind him where Natasha was waiting to hold you in her arms.

"Don't you dare call me fuckin' weak!" Bucky yelled. All eyes were on the scene unfolding.

The crack of Rumlow's jaw was not to be missed as Bucky's fist collided with it so hard you could've sworn Bucky broke some of his teeth. "You think you can come here to my wife's gala and try me?"

You wanted to stop Bucky, but you could tell that with his anger, thee was no stopping him until he was done. More sounds of cracking, Rumlow's howls of pain, and the blow's of Bucky's beatings were all that echoed in the hall.

After a few minutes, Bucky slowly stopped, panting as he leaned over Rumlow breathlessly. It was then you stepped in, running behind Bucky and putting your hands on his shoulders. "Buck, c'mon. Let me get you cleaned up." Blood was splattered on Bucky's face, his fists drenched in it. You nodded to Steve who, once Bucky was standing, picked Rumlow over his shoulder and took him out of the building. Natasha waved the band who began playing, and everyone fell back into conversation almost as if nothing happened.

Bucky and you were silent as the bartender handed you some towels to clean Bucky up. "Did you see any of that?" Bucky asked softly, his tone much different than a few minutes beforehand.

"Steve pulled me behind him," You answered, wiping off Bucky's knuckles. They were already bruising due to the beatings on them.

"Good man," He nodded, knowing that he would have done the same for Natasha. They protected each other's girls, always. "I'm sorry this happened tonight. I didn't mean to ruin the gala."

You chuckled, forcing Bucky to look up and around. "Look, nothing's ruined. You don't think these people are used to this stuff?"

Bucky gave a soft smile in return as his fingers fell across your cheek, softly rubbing it. "What did I do to deserve you?"

"Endlessly protect and love me, to start." You cheekily replied.

"Yeah," Bucky nodded, kissing you softly. "Always." He added as he pulled away. "Now, come on. I don't think we spoke to the Stark's yet."

[i-yap]

MY FAVORITE IS DICK GRAYSON FORVER WILL BE DICK GRAYSON AND HERE IS WHY

DICK GRAYSON X Y/N ( FRUSTRATED ME EDITION)

- first of all , he is the hottest character in dc (literally the comics have written this line by line)

- he is the real one with communication issues. You think jason struggles with that? NO jason uses any chance to tell me people how much he suffered. But dick? He wears a smile, he hides everything he is feeling

- the only person who gets to see the real him is YOU. The stress, the pressure, the mommy daddy issues...cmon. and bruce prolly was the worst at raising grayson and learned from his mistakes for the rest

- dick is someone who tries to be happy. Who tries to have a normal life. Who tries not to let his issues affect him . But they do which is why he has so many fucked up relationships. But when he meets you he wants to keep you, he needs to keep you with him. So he tries yet again to open up, fix his issues, love you the way you truly deserve.

- AND let us all not pretend we are all not stressed asf in life. He is so joyful and bright and will almost never dull the mood. Car karaoke ? Done. Skinny dipping in some random lake you drive by? His suggestion. Amusement parks? He is excitedly pulling you to all the rides and WILL 100% WIN YOU THE BIGGEST TEDDY

- he is deep, he js in touch with his feelings and he knows how to take care of you. Idk abt u guys but I have issues . I want a man who gives you those words of affirmation, who makes it super obvious he likes you.

- he needs you just as much as jason or tim or damian do. He also never had genuine love, he also has been a soldier a leader the person responsible all his life. He needs yo hold you, he needs that peace and quiet away from everything he has to deal with . He wants someone he can come home to and just show how drained he is .

- he is so kind to the world but he WILL BURN IT FOR YOU . I refuse to believe any other opinion on this. No matter how big a hero this guy is...remember how he killed joker for jason? Someone he said he hated? Broke the no kill rule?? Yea imagine what he will do for you.

- and how dare u suggest he isn't jealous/ possessive. He gets so cranky..not insecure and u don't have to coddle him and avoid all other men ...but u do have to give him extra kisses

-HE IS THE REAL GREEN FLAG fuck the whole " a hero will sacrifice you for the world but a villain will burn the world for you" NOT HIM NO HE WILL KILL EVERYONE OKAY cuz how date anyone suggest taking you away from him after everything he has done for the world. You are his reward and you better remember that.

- slow waltzing in the kitchen while he sings you his favorite love song, giggling in a pretty cafe while sharing a piece of cake( he is feeding you the whole thing and will kiss you when u Ask why he isn't eating any himself) , getting tipsy and walking back home all sweet and drunk and in love. He is adventurous and wants to experience everything With you.

- best part, everyone around u will love him. I'm sorry but I like it when my bf is liked by the old ladies and my parents and my boss. He will make you the power couple, even if you aren't as "powerful". He is your biggest loudest supporter always. Always introducing you to ppl as if you cured world hunger , telling everyone just how smart and kind you are taking any opportunity to talk about You. And dancing with him at galas makes you feel like a princess

- he will get the best gifts, say the sweetest things, be the most supportive kind eyes only for you guy once he genuinely falls in love.

I love jason a lot too, and tim and bruce too. Like yes I daydream about all of them But I just hate how underrated my boy here is.

[thehistoriccemetery]

Bg3 Companions respond to: “I’m safe with you, right? You’re not gonna let anyone hurt me?”

Some comfort from our ladies: Shadowheart, Lae’zel, Karlach, and Minthara (sorry to my fellow Jaheira lovers she didn’t make it into this one.)

Also I’m starting to write more full length fics so if anyone has a particular thing I’ve written they’d like to see more on, let me know!

You’re a strong leader and warrior, and you know that. But sometimes the past comes up stronger than you can handle and you think of all the times you needed a protector of your own. In the moonlight, you ask your companions for a bit of reassurance.

Shadowheart

“Of course,” She adjusts your position so she is looking you in the eyes. “Why? Is something the matter? Are you in danger?” Her face is full of worry and concern.

“No, it’s…” you trail off, unsure of how to explain the aching vulnerability in your chest. “Never mind, it was a stupid thing to say.”

You avoid her gaze, feeling a bit foolish for asking such a question. You try to tuck your head back against her chest, but before you can, she takes your face in her hands.

“I’m sorry no one protected you. I’m sorry they let you get hurt before you could stop it. You deserved so much better, but I’m here now. I will protect you.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and she gently wipes them away with her thumb as they trail down your cheeks. You are so thankful for the miraculous way she can always say exactly what you need to hear.

“The gods really did bless me when they brought me you,” you said, swiping your own tears out of your eyes. “It’s hard to remember when we’ve gone through so much, but I’m so blessed to have you.”

Shadowheart pulls you back to her chest, letting you cry while she gently strokes your hair. If there is one thing she will not let go from her time with Shar, it is the importance of feeling the pain.

You will move through it and she will move through it with you, no matter how long it takes.

She looks up to the moon and says a silent prayer to her new lady. “Guide them through this grief with your light.”

Lae’zel

Lae’zel is terribly confused as soon as the words leave your mouth. You didn’t know she could raise a single eyebrow like that.

“Why would you need my protection?” She asks. “You are a fierce warrior. You are safe with you.”

You smile. It’s not exactly what you were looking for, but the sentiment is there.

“Are you injured? Feeling ill, perhaps? In this case, you have my sword until you heal. I may even be able find that sorry excuse for a cleric around here somewhere…” she rambles until you place a hand on her shoulder.

You explain that you are not physically wounded, and she need not worry. It’s the inside that feels a little broken right now, in your head.

When she pushes a blade to your throat you quickly clarify that it is NOT in a ceremorphosis kind of way.

She retracts the blade, grateful she does not have to kill you, but still confused. It’s not that she’s never experienced what you’re feeling before, but the act of asking for or receiving comfort is unfamiliar to her.

She still wants to help though, so you guide her to sit cross legged on the ground and you place your head in her lap.

You can’t help but giggle as she stares down at you with that confused look on her face. “This is helping?”

“Can you stroke my hair?” You ask, not having grown accustomed to the awkwardness of such direct words yet.

She places her hand in your hair, carefully stroking the top of your head.

It clearly doesn’t come natural to her, but her willingness to try answers all of your questions. No one is ever gonna hurt you again.

Karlach

Karlach pulls you to lay on her chest and wraps her arms around you tight. “You are always safe with me, ‘kay? Always. Not a soul will hurt you. Ever. Again.”

She knows of your past, the pain you carry, the people you’ve lost, how they haunt you. Even before she could hold you she’s been there, beside you for everything.

“We protect each other, remember? You’ve got my back and I’ve got yours.” She asks. You nod into her chest.

You recall all the times you’ve done the same for her. You know the far away look in her eyes, when she is forced to relive her hell terrors once more. Ever since the night Dammon fixed her engine you vowed she’d never wake up from a nightmare anywhere but your arms.

“And what a hell of a team we make,” you chuckle. “Remember that time you ripped that bugbear’s fucking arm off after he nicked me with his mace?” You laugh, lightening the mood with a memory.

Karlach laughed as well. “And it was while I was still burning hot as the hells so the fucker’s fur lit up like a torch.” She was laughing so hard she could hardly finish the sentence.

“And he took out a good chunk of goblins when he went a runnin’,” you rolled off of her, swinging your arms above your head and doing your best bugbear-on-fire impression.

The two of spent the rest of the evening roaring with laughter about your favorite memories and stories. Only stopping when Karlach’s eyes began to feel heavy and the laughter turned into yawns.

“If I have to fight every demon in hell, then I’ll run out of blood to bleed before I lose you.”* You whisper before kissing her forehead and snuggling back up to drift off to sleep.

*(lyric from Penelope Scott’s “Over the Moon”)

Minthara

A look of disgust flashed across her face. Such a blatant display of vulnerability was unfamiliar to her and not befitting.

But when she looked at you, she softened ever so slightly. It was as if she was looking at you how you were when it all happened. She was looking at a hurt child.

Unfortunately for you, vulnerability wasn’t befitting of child in her eyes either.

“Do not ask such foolish questions,” She says passively. “You have not been threatened, have you?”

You shake your head sheepishly. “No, I was just feeling… I don’t know… weak, I guess.”

Minthara drops whatever she was working on before and approaches you, adjusting your body and posture from the droopy form that walked into her tent.

When she has you standing tall with your chest puffed out she scrunches her face into a look even more stern and scary, then motions for you to do the same.

Once you’re in position, she walks around you, admiring you in a slow circle. “Hmm…” she tuts, “you do not look weak. You look rather strong. Like you could lead six…” she pauses, looking for the right word, “hooligans around the better half of Faerûn.”

You can’t suppress the smile that grows on your face, and as she completes her circle, you can see she is smiling too.

But, just to be clear, she is currently committing atrocities on the last person to look at you funny. She would burn down the house of Baenre itself if it meant keeping you safe.

[molsno]

god, what happens next is so good. the character writing is just spectacular. it fascinates me just how much depth there is to each character and how that contributes to the story.

milo's dni is the most revealing thing about him, and it's the very first thing we hear from him:

right off the bat, we can see what kind of person the protagonist is. he's a pastel softboi trans man who clings to a childish aesthetic to appear weak and non-threatening. despite being involved in a toxic relationship with another trans guy who attempted to rape and kill an 11 year old girl when he was a teenager and later murdered his girlfriend, which milo helped with by dismembering her corpse, he puts "pedophiles and unhealthy pairing shippers dni" on his carrd. which, ok, maybe he wants to distance himself from people like griffin now - except that's not really true, because he talks to, moves in with, and regularly hangs out with a serial killer fan who idolizes griffin and is even dating the guy while he's in prison. he puts "being against neopronouns" and "anti-otherkin" on the same level as those things. he explicitly denies any responsibility in the murders of haylie and savannah, despite having literally chopped haylie's arm off. all the while, he has "you deserve to heal" in big bold letters, while not applying that belief to anyone but himself.

right from the start, it's obvious that milo is not a good person. but he's also humanized throughout the story. sure, some of his softboi persona is a means of victimizing himself to avoid taking responsibility for what he did - and you could make the case that he was a victim in some ways. on the other hand, he also never got to grow up because he spent 5 years in a psychiatric institute. is it any surprise that he clings to the same aesthetic, interests, and hobbies he had when he was 15? he never got to stop being a kid, and how is he supposed to now? he didn't graduate high school, he can't get a job, and nobody wants to be friends with him because of what he did. it raises uncomfortable questions - namely, what happens next? milo served his time for the crime he committed as a minor. he was already punished, but now he has to live the entire rest of his life. what is he supposed to do?

that, I think is the most interesting part of this story. almost every character in this story makes it hard for you to like them, but they also have very human reasons for doing the terrible things that they do. I'll talk about some of my favorites under the read more, but be aware that there will be spoilers:

claire is one of the most interesting characters to me, just because of how unlikable she is.

when we first see claire in victim impact statement, she tries to ignore haylie, griffin, and milo as much as possible. she doesn't even seem to like her sister. she treats haylie as a nuisance for coming into the room that they share as sisters. she doesn't want to go to the open mic night to listen to haylie play her ukulele. when she finds haylie bawling her eyes out in the bathroom at anime central, she just looks away, as if to say "you chose to date your shitty boyfriend". when she hears haylie and griffin fighting upstairs, she just pretends not to hear it. when haylie is curled up in terror later, claire puts on headphones and turns her back to her. her headphones become a way of drowning out haylie's screams when griffin is around, and because of that, she doesn't hear haylie screaming for her life, and ends up finding her corpse in the kitchen.

that's why I don't find it surprising at all that she becomes an outspoken transphobe who wants to take her anger out on the trans people who murdered her sister. she goes to media events and publicly degenders milo and griffin. she calls aaron's friends trannies. I think it's easy to misconstrue her as a terf, but she literally doesn't even pay lip service to feminism. how could she? she knew that her sister was being abused by her boyfriend, and she did nothing. let me remind you that she lives in a house where "smash the patriarchy" is embroidered on the wall. she doesn't care about any of that. she just wants a scapegoat. she wants to make the law impose harsher punishments on minors who commit violent crimes because she doesn't know what else to do with her life. she very clearly hates herself, becoming an alcoholic to cope with her guilt. she pretends to care about haylie and fight for this law because it's the only way she can convince herself she's a good person, even though she can see that doing what she's doing is turning everyone against her.

and then that brings us to audrey. it's difficult to like her, too, because she's dating claire despite all of the horrible things she's doing. but at the same time, I can see where she's coming from. her mother died of cancer and she and all of her other black siblings were adopted by conservative christian white parents. she's still christian to this day, and makes a point of separating herself from "criminals" by insisting that she has nothing to do with them because she goes to church and takes care of her family. she doesn't want to disavow the law that claire worked so hard to pass because at the end of the day, it won't affect her personally, even though she is aware that the justice system disproportionately punishes black people. she very clearly has a lot of internalized racism, and I think that's best exemplified in the way she draws herself. despite having pretty dark skin in real life, she draws herself as light skinned as claire, her white girlfriend:

like, it's hard to like audrey, but you can clearly see why she's made all of the decisions she has! she idolizes claire because it's her first lesbian relationship. the way she sees it, claire can do no wrong. audrey does actually seem to be aware that her girlfriend is doing terrible things, but she essentially just plugs her ears and tries to ignore it. that's why she doesn't go to claire's campaign events. she ignores all of her girlfriend's flaws because claire is essentially her savior. because she has claire, she doesn't have to go back to her family, to her abusive alcoholic white father. she doesn't have to actually take care of her younger siblings, which is a responsibility she's foisted off unto mark. that's why she ignores that claire is just as much of an emotional drain as her father. she's highly depressed, she's an alcoholic, she trashes their bedroom (leaving audrey to clean up after her mess), she puts up an emotional wall and dismisses audrey's attempts to comfort her, and dismisses audrey's own problems as being less traumatizing and less important. by all accounts, claire is a terrible girlfriend and a terrible person, but because audrey idolizes her as her savior, she stays by her side. I'm really looking forward to seeing how she reacts to claire's disappearance in future chapters.

and then of course, there's vikki. she's been doing something incredibly disrespectful for years by making true crime videos where she talks about the victims and killers like it's all a joke. she makes a video about whether ethical necrophilia is possible, and makes a callous, bitter joke that the concept of "respect for the dead" is antiquated, because nobody respects her as a trans woman of color even though she's still alive. for this comment, people have harassed her online endlessly, enough that she had to make a video called "STOP TELLING PEOPLE I FUCK CORPSES". that doesn't stop her from making a video about the murder of haylie, complete with an interview from milo. she'll throw him under the bus if it means getting the attention off herself for a bit.

and yet, I think out of everyone, I feel the most compassion for vikki. yes, she used milo for content and called him a "sad little blonde girl", but I can understand where she's coming from! like, again, she's a trans woman of color in the true crime community. she knows the archetype milo is trying so hard to be in order to avoid taking responsibility for what he did. like, I've personally seen trans women of color who are victimized by white trans men who pull the same exact shtick as milo over and over, so I completely understand her frustration. that said, she also realized she went too far and tried to apologize, only to find out she was blocked and that milo basically wrote a callout post against her. I think it says a lot that vikki was one of the only people to actually try to talk to milo, even if the way she went about it was wrong.

vikki does things that are disrespectful, but to be honest, it's not that surprising! she grew up in a 90% white town in the middle of nowhere, got assaulted by multiple white boys for being a faggot, got sent to alternative school, worked for a funeral home as a teenager, and transitioned. not only is she desensitized to death, she's angry that people revere the dead more than her.

it's astounding, really! what happens next is so well written because it makes you feel conflicted about each of its characters. what are we supposed to do with these people who do awful things? a lot of the intrigue in this comic comes from seeing how each of the characters handles this question as they deal with the other characters who have done terrible things, while they themselves are deeply flawed as well. I think the writing really forces you to contend with the idea that these are all still people, and that their humanity needs to be recognized even if they do terrible things. it makes you ask, what happens next?

[tvxqmylove]

Let's raise our glasses to Izzy and OFMD creators

I just have to get it off my chest, I understand Izzy's death came as a shock and very upsetting event for many, and a lot of people are going on and on about how he deserved a better fate and how he was not just some tool to serve someone else's story. Please try to calm down and see the bigger picture. 

It is now clear that he was always meant to die. It was foreshadowed in the first minute of the second season, a ridiculous, villain's death. Being the symbolic obstacle to Stede and Ed's happiness. 

Of course that was the wrong way for him to go. When he confessed to his crush Blackbeard he got shot by him, almost died, begged to be killed, and then he even tried to kill himself. Still didn't work. It wasn’t his time yet and that was the wrong way for him to go. When he learned that he was loved and cared for after all, just not in the way he expected, he changed. He became positive, he became forgiving. Then he stopped being miserable he started genuinely wishing for the happiness of others as well, instead of being bitter about it. His death might not have a point but his life did. He had the crew's and Ed's and even Stede's back, and they knew it. As David Jenkins stated, he played the role of a wise mentor that was passing along his life experiences to others. Then it was his time. Also, as foreshadowed, he symbolically took away Blackbeard, and opened a way for Stede and Ed as well.

A happy ending is not only walking off to sunset with a lover, taking up a new job or walking into a house of your family and petting your dog before you close the door. A good death, and a life well-lived is a happy ending. Leaving behind people that loved you is a happy ending. This was a happy ending for him. 

He lived the way he wanted, as a pirate, an infamous one that has received respect and recognition. Then he resolved the parts of his life that became problematic and toxic, he repaired the relationships

that was broken, he forgave the people he needed to forgive. After going through hell, he was basically a bubble of positivity, going around giving solid advices, encouraging people and partying. He was done. He gave the best damn speech of his life at a bar like giving his own eulogy and it was awesome. He died at the arms of the person he loved the most. 

Yes he could have had more, everyone that ever died could have had more. But he died gracefully and complete, surrounded by people he loved and cared about, knowing that they will be fine. That was his story. I am sad that he died, but he died beautifully, best you can hope for in a pirate life. And he will live on, in the hearts of the people he touched by his existence. 

Finally, never harass the creators. It is their hard work that gave us Izzy in the first place. Trust their creative process, and afterwards take it or leave it, do not harass them and try to put them in a box of your personal demands. If so, what kind of 3rd season can we even expect?

[enjolraspermettendo]

I finally saw Les Miserables live in Milan yesterday so obligatory yap:

Okay first of all: KILLIAN DONNELLY?!?!?!? I was already excited that I was going to see him as Valjean but god that man's voice is just so beautiful. He played a spectacular Valjean, he dominated the stage and the crowd went wild every time he sang. I have no words. Just. What an experience. The whole cast was amazing but jesus, this man could do a one man show of Les mis and id give my first born to see it. Also, he carried around Marius's actor like he weighed nothing, that's so Valjean of him. Also, his soliloquy broke me, how he tried to give back the candlesticks after the bishop gave them to him, how he let the bag fall on the floor and picked it up only later. The emotion he put into his singing constantly brought tears to my eyes. What a voice. Indescribable

JAVERT!!!! Bradley Jaden was amazing. I love how much rage he gave to his character, it felt very true to the novel, on how he's compared to a wolf. In stars he's so devoted but the part that literally shook me was after he let Valjean and Marius go: he literally lost his mind and shouted "WHO IS THIS MAN" with such a wild air I literally gasped. He was unhinged during that song, so outraged and bitter and I loved it. It almost felt like he was killing himself to take Valjean's act of mercy away from him instead of his internal turmoil and honestly? I loved it. He had such a presence on stage it literally felt like he was the law. Also let's be honest, he rocked the coat

I LOVED Channa Hewitt as Fantine, She had such a warm and soft voice it felt like a mother's embrace. I cried 4 times during the show and 2 of those were Fantine's death and Fantine's part during the finale. She was perfect

Nathania Ong as Eponine????? I don't think I've ever heard someone sing her parts as perfectly as her. What a voice. Honestly I think the applauses for her were some of the longest and they were completely deserved. She made me cry. Amazing. Spectacular. I fell a little bit a lot in love. Unfortunately she missed the "He was never mine to lose" line but I think it was because her microphone wasn't connected?? Never mind she was perfect.

I know you all want to know about our boys Enjolras and Grantaire so. There wasn't much enjoltaire going on tbh but I didn't mind, I still think the actors (James D. Gish and Raymond Walsh) were perfect and I love their performance. Enjolras was completely focused on the revolution and keeping the others on track, while Grantaire mainly stuck with Gavroche all throughout. Enjolras's most positive reaction to grantaire was ironically clapping with the others at R's jokes once during Red and Black, but apart from that he was fairly hostile to him. During Drink With Me he tried to stop R from singing and bringing down morale by getting close to him and roughly saying "That's enough!" into the same microphone; after he stopped singing and everyone started moving away Enjolras tried to stop Grantaire or talk to him, he seemed kind of apologetic, but R Simply raised his bottle to him in a mock toast and then turned his back to him and I loved that, I love a bitter and petty Grantaire. Grantaire at the beginning was very amused by the whole situation and the excitement of the others, during red and black and the building of the barricade he kept hyping Gavroche up and parting his shoulder, nudging him towards the others as if it was all a game. When the first shots sounded he seemed to realize the gravity of the situation and started nudging Gavroche away and motioning for him to go away; later when the shooting for the fall of the barricade started sounding he lifted Gavroche in his arms and held him as the others started to fall until only them and Enjolras stood; then Gavroche went limp and R died with him, Enjolras died last. For the rest of the show and for Empty Chairs at Empty Tables Enjolras, Grantaire and Gavroche were on the small balcony/platform over the centre of the stage and to be honest it had a very "Father, Son and Holy Spirit" vibe in my opinion.

One Day More was absurd, it gave me chills all throughout.

When Valjean died and the bishop came in the hugged each other very hard, Valjean basically fell into the bishop's arms and that hit me hard.

Gavroche was so sassy I loved him.

Honestly everyone was perfect I literally have nothing bad to say. I think Enjolras's actor lost controls of his voice on a sillable but who cares, it was all amazing.

I also got merch! (It was all so expensive????? But I couldn't help myself). I got a tote bag with Cosette's famous illustration, a magnet and a brochure with the history of Lea Miserables and information and interviews of the World Tour cast. I also got 2 of the paper bags (they were cute okay) and my mum grabbed a literal handful of the bookmarks they were giving away lmao.

I'm sure I had something else I wanted to say but after these last 3 days my brain is completely scrambled. If any of you were at the show yesterday or are going in these days feel free to hit me up so we can go crazy together lmao

[yandere-sins]

holy crap your previous könig and ghost yan are so good😭 i have this idea, and idk if anyone has incorporated it in any yan stories of them, but the idea of unmasking them and seeing their faces for the first time???? like this is pre-established relationship (with either men idk up to you to imagine which) where you haven’t seen their faces…yet. the most you know is the intimidation you feel every time you see them—or see them lurking around you but like, imagine a scenario where the reader is trying to get them to take off their mask + plus i’m pretty sure ghost and könig has yet to have canon appearances so i’d like to hear your interpretations of them!!!

I had this idea in a not yandere-sense and it was so wholesome and adorable and just intimate where they let you unmask them for the first time, kind of hesitant, but so adoringly... Maybe I should write the harmless version one day, but for now, this is still a yandere blog sorry hahaha! Thanks for requesting!!

Warnings: Yandere, Minor Sexual Content

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

König

♡ König is so flustered. Poor man doesn't even think he deserves you being so agreeable that night, sitting in his lap, allowing him to touch you (shallowly, but his fingers are on your body, and that's more than most nights). Yet, you also caress him back, not saying anything or giving him reasons why you're being so nice. You told him so many times you hate him, driving a dagger into his poor heart over and over. Yet, your fingertips are tracing his shoulders and collarbones gently, carefully. He can't stop swallowing hard with all the drool collecting in his mouth, his brain befuddled with intense adoration and need for you to do more. To touch him more, to make him feel your hands and body rougher than the fluttering touches you're bestowing onto him.

♡ That's the only reason he allows your hands to go further. He really likes his mask, but you driving your hands under it, touching the hot skin underneath, well... it raises more questions and also something else between his legs. But König is way too scared to ruin this moment. He's also afraid of you uncovering something you might not like. A face you might find ugly or scars that you will laugh about. He doesn't want you to think badly of him, even though he can't change his looks anymore. At the same time, he really��doesn't want you to stop. Just one more inch of skin bared to you. One more touch of your fingertips and all these feelings he harbors for you might explode out of him. But when you get to the stubble on his chin, your thumb having pressed deliciously into his throat and giving him a kick of adrenaline, suddenly, König revolts. Picking you up and setting you down on the couch before getting up and leaving the room in a hurry, he pulls his shirt-mask down as much as he can. After all, it was a bit too much for him; maybe you'll have more luck next time.

♡ (Yes, he's in the bathroom and miserable that he stopped you. Yes, he needs to take a cold shower afterwards, and yes, he still jerks off despite the icy temperature, bemoaning the roughness of his hands compared to yours.)

Ghost

♡ You know, Ghost really didn't plan to let you do it. It's his thing; he doesn't mind being always covered up and unreadable. It also helps with you and keeping you a bit fearful at all times. But when curiosity kills the cat, and you start playing with the seams of his mask, he just... lets you. Ghost wants to know how far you're willing to go, how bold you are—and how much he can take. He's not ashamed of his face, but the mask is his identity, so there might still come a moment when it's uncomfortable for him. But at the same time, this is like a game to him. One he knows he can stop at any given time, but which will yield a lot of prizes if he endures it.

♡ Because really, what's more adorable than you realizing he's not reacting? You thinking you're allowed to do what you want? You're testing the waters carefully, with only the tips of your nails slipping under the tight mask. Ghost watches you through his lashes as he pretends to still be dozing, unbothered and relaxed. In reality, he's controlling his instinctual flinches as everything screams at him to stop you. But you're not out to unmask and kill him, you're just curious. And you grow bolder, fast. He loves that look on your face, the concentration as you loosen the fabric so it might roll up his neck. You keep glancing at him, and though he knows you want to check if he's still asleep, it feels like you're asking his permission. And Ghost gives it to you. He's in control. So he even cranks his neck so you can push it up his chin, exposing his mouth, excitement about your achievement palpable. But when you adjust your position to continue, driving your hands under the mask and cupping his face, Ghost decides it's enough, pushing upwards to meet you in a kiss.

♡ He'll have you flipped over and complaining faster than you can react to, hands pinned above your heads, and your complaints turning into gasps and moans as he deepens the kiss, his hands exploring you until you arch your body into his touch and your mind is woozy from the loss of oxygen. Now that his mouth is out, he might as well use it to both of your pleasures and who knows, maybe he'll let you go a bit farther next time.

[taissaswifelowkey]

cigarettes, cigarettes.

a/n: idk why i felt like dishing this out??? and it was so random too like 💀💀 also, melissa is adorable and deserves the best of hugs people 😎‼️ proofread but there might lingering mistakes left. leave feedback if you have any, enjoy reading you already knowww, mdni

w/c: 3.4 k words

warnings: suggestive themes, mentions of a casual affair, swearing, mentions of smoking, love used as a metaphor of addiction and smoking, drinking at a party, overly dramatic writing, attempts at humour, gay yearning. melissa is in love but kind of doesn’t know how to deal with it.

second part will be written. more will be told about the reader’s background, and we’ll have a deeper insight on when they started seeing melissa. let me know if i missed anything else :)

it starts below the cut 🤠

Sitting on the rooftop, your eyes are mindlessly trained on the landscapes drowned by lamplights. A cigarette hangs between your lips and you’re starting to taste the bitter, raw nicotine from how long it has remained unlit. You wish you could bring yourself to inhale the toxins and allow the rot to travel throughout your lungs, consequently tainting your oxygen, but you’ve decided that you do too much of it already, the smell of her lingering fragrance marking your bedsheets being enough to ruin your health. It was a deranging fact considering you weren’t even a smoker. You wanted to find an alternative addiction that would slowly, softly kill you. It’s better to crawl at the hands of death rather than someone. At least that is what you think. Though you were always kind of melodramatic in that way. She’d tell you that whenever you would plead with her to stay with you after your nightly secret meetings.

Looking back at it you feel a little embarrassed. All those wasted words and wasted time. Wanting nothing more but to go back to stop yourself from breathing three words that left a taste of bile at the back of your mouth even after weeks.

Taking the cigarette away from your lips you twirl it around your fingers, the paper now nearly melted off. You don’t want to throw it away, feeling ridiculous that you spent your money on a twelve dollar pack. Lying back to rest on the cold concrete, you carefully place the cigarette on your chest in an almost cradling gesture.

The cold wind blows past your face, the skin of your neck, touching the places that were traced by her lips. Your fingers reach for them and you swear it’s like she never left.

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

A voice startles you, jerking you up. Instinctively you hold the cigarette like you’ve been caught. The act itself is unintentionally amusing, making the redhead bite back a smile.

“I don’t.”

“There’s no harm in it if you were.”

She casually strides up to you. She’s so pretty. She always is but you can swear that at this moment you’d be on your knees apologising to her for something you didn’t even do. And maybe that’s the problem.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t.”

You stand up, dusting off your pants, wanting to leave. The further you stay the more your brain shifts to your first conflict. Memories of raised voices, of tears, flushed faces and accusing words quickly speed past your membrane.

“Then why is there a box peeking out of your pocket?”

“Why do you care?”

Melissa sighs, crossing her arms. She wonders if whatever you had to drink tonight warranted that behaviour. But she also knew you never really were the drinking type. This only somehow worsens things, knowing that you’re sober and somewhat justifiably annoyed.

Ava’s laugh breaks the tension brewing between you, reminding your surroundings. At Janine’s flat, a get together between colleagues.

“This is useless.”

You make a move to leave but she steps in your way. You almost want to laugh at her boldness.

“We need to talk.”

“We talked already.”

You grit, looking down at your shoes. She is being unfair. Sending you off, ignoring you for days and only talking to you when she needed to. Your friends did catch on to the shift of the atmosphere but couldn’t exactly place it. No one asked any questions either, knowing not to bother Melissa when she was having her pondering moments. It’s not like they could ask you anything either, always finding a sly excuse to get out of the conversation.

“Won’t you just cut the attitude and be serious about this for five minutes—”

“You have no right to tell me what to be serious about, Melissa. Not when you’ve got some questions to ask about yourself.”

You’re right. She knows you are. You have that same look on your face the day you pronounced the same words that felt like an open wound. “Why’d you have to ruin everything?” She asked, not frustratingly cried out. Then again her reasonings were justified. The agreement you had between you was simple. No attachments, no feelings.

With flushed cheeks she looks ahead of you. Her pride not wanting to let you know you aren’t exactly in the wrong, at least not really. Whatever it is, she won’t give you the satisfaction. Much to your great relief. Biting back your tears, you scoff, walking past her. She catches the subtle whiff of your linen scent, instantly bringing back memories of you spending rare mornings in her kitchen. Or evenings of her trying to teach you how to cook Italian food but ended up being distracted by the way you wrapped your arms behind her, placing soft kisses on her neck.

A couple excuses and farewells later you left the party, wishing everyone well and ignored Ava’s slight inquisition in your mood. You waved it off, joking that you’ve had many drinks in you and needed to rest. Which you should have seriously thought of before because Ava being inquisitive Ava knows you don’t really drink, failing at convincing you to slip a few drops of alcohol in the punch at a PTA reunion that one time.

“Something’s off with Romeo.” She points at Jacob and Barbara, who casts a curious look as you leave. He thought about it for a moment before speaking up again.

“I think Romeo is the wrong romantic hero to use here—”

“Can we drop the nerding for a second and gossip…I mean, talk about our colleague?” Ava exasperates.

Usually, Barbara isn’t one for gossip, but she had to admit your behaviour was strange.

“The other day I still saw her class lights on. I presumed it was to catch up on correcting papers but this has been the fifth time in a week.”

“What do you think it is? Heartbreak? Food poisoning?” Ava ponders, already thinking of the bake sale that you participated in, and accepts a plate of visibly raw cookies from a student out of pity.

“Or maybe it’s just stress and fatigue?” He hums, pretending not to know what she was talking about. The truth is, he was aware. At least he had some idea. He saw Melissa in one of your shirts once. Chalking it up to you two having a sleepover he dropped the thought but it was admittedly strange. He tried talking about it to Melissa in a completely innocent curious way, to which she quickly shut him down. He tried asking you, but you would always find a way to slyly change the subject.

“Another theory is either a relationship or a situationship gone wrong. Probably the second one. I haven’t seen that look in a while, that’s someone who needs to get lai—”

Melissa enters after, walking towards Janine and Gregory. She asks for you but they confusedly answer that you left. Right. She knows you did. But a part of her hoped you’d stay. A tiny part.

“Hmm, I don’t know. Digging into her life seems a bit unethical.” Jacob scratches his neck, acting as if he didn’t want to know what was really happening.

“It’s not unethical if we’re preoccupied.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this but Ava’s right. We should be rightfully preoccupied.” Barbara supports, earning a slight indignant expression from Ava.

“What do you mean you can’t believe what you’re saying? I’m always right. Almost always.”

“What are we saying?” Janine interrupts, smiling cheerfully at the group. “Oh…is it about the appetisers? Look, I know they’re not exactly homemade but I tried to make it look presentable.”

Melissa is right behind them, peering through the groups' eyes. She catches on to Jacob’s uneasy smile, who grabs an appetiser from a nearby platter to avoid speaking. Ava clears her throat and resumes talking.

“We know they aren’t homemade. Maybe that’s what got our friend sour.”

Ever the sweetest person, Janine’s tone changes at the mention of you. You did look a bit off. She really thought it was the food but you reassured both her and Gregory.

“Thank God because I ate at least ten of those…” mutters Gregory, offering a teasing smile when Janine bats his biceps.

“What got our colleague sour?” Melissa questioned, or rather interrogated. She knew she somehow had to appear clueless if she wanted to avoid having a discussion. The incoming questions were already giving her a migraine. Though the only person she’d trust this issue with is Barbara.

“Now, I am in no way condoning gossip nor peering into personal lives—”

“Oh, just spit it Barb.” Ava eggs on. Barbara sighs and rolls her eyes before turning to Melissa again.

“We think it might be a case of a heartbreak. The opposite of you, actually.”

Ironic.

“Is that what it looks like?” Melissa ponders, trying so hard not to let her voice waver.

“Oh, yeah, speaking of how’s your date going?” Janine smiles, knowing a bit about Melissa’s “mysterious date”, consequently allowing the topic about you to change.

“It’s…it’s going okay. Ish.”

“Are you thinking about going official?” Ava nudges her shoulder, a conspiring smile on her face. “I would like to see who’s giving you that glow. Like where did you find them exactly? Wherever it is, maybe they have more.”

She fights back from blushing, her brain rushing to moments of you taking care of her, your soft praises, how your lips traveled across every inch of her skin.

“That good, huh?” Jacob quips, instantly recognising that look she has. She had it when you left to get coffee and he could’ve sworn she wasn’t just “tired”. She was unabashedly gazing at you. The woman’s eyes widened, wondering if she should shut Jacob up. But that will for sure sell her out.

“Leave the poor woman alone. She’s not who we are talking about at the moment. But you will have to tell me everything soon, won’t you, Melissa?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll tell you everything.”

“In any case, I hope it’s not too bad. I’ve seen that kind of heartbreak before.” Barbara winces at the thought of your solemn face. You were genuinely bright, not too talkative, but still a positive figure at Abbot Elementary.

“Let’s all drink in the honour of our Romeo and hope it’s not that case.” Ava pours drinks for everyone, clearly not using this as an excuse to get everyone to drink.

Melissa stares down at her cup before taking another sip, hoping the cup’s contents will wash down the churning feeling in her stomach.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

The next following weeks went on as usual. You preparing your lessons, marking your students' papers. You think you’ve seen fiery red hair at your door but maybe that’s just your delusion.

Melissa’s week was fairly average like yours. Except that there is an issue. She’s not able to clear her mind out of you. That and you’ve left your shirt at her place. She wondered many times if she should call for you to pick up but has decided that your relationship is already awkward as it is. That and she still hasn’t told her best friend who had her smiling dreamily.

To make matters comedically worse Jacob is somehow connecting the dots. Asking her about the shirt you’ve left. Then about you and if you two talked recently. She tried to answer his questions normally but had a gut feeling that this wasn’t just innocent curiosity.

They were now at the professors' lounge room, having just had a lunch break with everyone except you. You said you needed to catch up on lesson prep and heated your lunch and left.

“Melissa I know it’s none of my business—”

“Damn right it’s not.”

“But I was just wondering—”

“Then stop wondering.” She shrugs, moving to pack her things from the lounge room. She liked to consider herself helpful but right now what she needed was to get home. And definitely not try to text you.

Jacob quickly stops her from leaving, blocking the entrance door.

“Jacob don’t make me start—”

“It’s her, isn’t it?”

She blinks her eyes, eyebrows furrowing.

“Look I know I shouldn’t care and it doesn’t concern me. But I’ve seen the way you two look at each other.”

Before she could even answer the door opens, making them both jump in fright. Barbara looks between them and shoots a conspiratorial glance.

“Gossiping again?”

“No?” Jacob answers as he pretends to dust lint off Melissa's shoulders. “Just catching up on…the weather?” To be fair he was a bad liar.

She shrugs his hand off her shoulder, looking at Barbara. She knows she can’t hide anything from her. What is surprising is that she can’t even hide anything from Jacob. Either he was too observant or she was becoming too transparent.

“Is anyone going to tell me anything?” Barbara raises an eyebrow, taking note of their awkward looks.

“It’s complicated.” Melissa sighs out, massaging her temples.

“I think this is something that you two need to talk about alone…” Jacob temptingly mutters, making a move to leave before the redhead grasps his wrist.

“Oh, no. You’re staying.”

It’s the least he could do for trying to dig into her personal affairs. His face is stricken with fear as Barbara’s confusion deepens.

“You might want to uh…sit down for this one, Barbara. But please don’t blame her for anything, I mean like she said it is complicated—”

“Wait, you knew about this?” Barbara inquisitions, her hand waving between her best friend and the frightened man.

“No, no, no! I mean I had some idea of it, Melissa was oblivious and I sort of figured it out—”

“Jacob. Quiet.” Melissa sits down on a chair, head dropping to her hands, mentally preparing for the incoming headache she’s about to get from all this mess.

“Will someone tell me what is going on? It’s not anything too serious is it?” Barbara takes a maternal tone, concern wavering in her voice at the sight of her friend in distress.

“You know I’ve been seeing someone?”

“Yes…? Did he…or they broke up with you? Sweetheart, I’m so sorry—”

“It’s someone we know.” The redhead speaks between her teeth, shame coursing through her body. She takes a deep breath, looking at Jacob who sends her an encouraging nod.

“You know I will never judge you, right?” Her best friend moves to sit in front of her, taking her hand in hers and lightly squeezing it.

“I know, it’s just…”

“Messy.” Jacob completes, earning an exasperated look from the redhead.

“Yeah.”

“Well I’m here to listen. And not judge. That’s not what we’re here for, right?” She looks up at Jacob, who shakes his head and offers his hand in support, hoping the redhead won’t break his phalanges.

“You know we’re here for you no matter what, Mel.”

The support is surprisingly enough for her to gain a little courage. She has to do it. If not for her then for you. Silence ensues.

“It’s…it’s…well.”

When Barbara hears your name, she swears she thought it was a joke. But at the look of Melissa’s face, she knows she is being completely serious.

“For how long?” The question isn’t meant to be judgmental, but the redhead fears it is.

“Four weeks.”

“That explains everything. You tolerated Jacob’s jokes more than usual.”

“Wait…you aren’t…mad at me?”

“Sweetheart, why would I be? I’m in no place to judge you whatsoever. As long as you’re happy and safe, you are free to live your life and see whoever you want to.”

“O…okay. Thank you.”

“There is no need.”

The pair hug, while Jacob awkwardly clears his throat.

“So does this mean I’m safe and won’t get kicked out?” He shrinks back in his posture as Melissa gets up, Barbara stands with her just in case she needs to hold her back. 

“Everything’s all good.”

“I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to.”

“It’s okay. I think sooner or later you were bound to find out anyway..”

“It is true that I started asking myself a couple of questions when you didn’t have your glow anymore.” Barbara nudges her, smiling at the way she fights back her blush.

“Yeah, well…it’s kinda over now, so…”

“Over? Oh, honey, this isn't over for the two of you. Not until you two had a proper conversation between adults.”

“But she’s–”

“Then tell her you’ll give her all the time she needs. But soon you will need to talk. If she does not understand that, then at least you gave it a chance. Don’t let her run anyway again.”

She knows she’s right. She can’t let this go any further.

“Let who run away?”

Janine walks in a tow with Ava and Gregory. Mr. Johnson, who walked in to look for trash, stayed when he heard something that might make his day interesting.

Melissa looked at everyone before catching your figure in the hallway. You two share a fleeting look before you leave. Everyone follows her gaze before looking back at her. Ava raises her eyebrows and sips her cup of coffee.

“This is messy.”

“Ava, stop–” Janine softly intervenes but Melissa shakes her head.

“No, she’s right. It’s my mess to fix.” She gazes at the empty spot you left, wanting nothing more but to stop you from leaving.

“Are we going to have to play matchmaker?” Ava excitedly whispers to Gregory, who places a hand over her shoulder.

“Looks like it. Or maybe this is something for them to fix themselves.”

“You’re going to have to tell us everything. If you want to, of course. No judgments here.” Ava speakers earnestly, though her voice is edged with curiosity.

“I think this is something for me to talk about later. See you after class.” Melissa smiles at the group one last time, nearly breaking into a grin when Barbara offers her a thumbs up.

She already screwed up once. She wasn’t about to let you go again. Even if you decide to let her go, she has to let you know what she had to say from the beginning. What she wanted to say.

[litnerdwrites]

Feyre betrayed Nesta in the worst way...

It's a common stance that many people, regardless of if they love or hate Nesta/Rhys/the IC, seem to have, but I don't think it is. Was Nesta complacent in keeping it from her since she found out? Yes. Was that wrong of her? Yes again. Was blurting it out the way that she did also not ideal, to put it mildly? Absolutely yes. But was it out of malice? No.

And Nesta didn't care. Couldn't think around the roaring. 'Have any of them told you, their respected High lady, that the babe in your womb will kill you?' Amren barked, 'Shut your mouth!' But her order was confirmation enough. Face paling, Feyre whispered again, 'What do you mean?' 'The wings,' Nesta seethed. 'The boy's Illyrian wings will get stuck in your Fae body during the labour, and it will kill you both.'

The idea that this was all said in malice just never sat right to me, and after scrolling through some comments on a video discussing the matter, the pieces finally clicked into place. First, let's talk about the hike, though.

Her breakdown after that hike wasn't a moment of catharsis and letting walls down. It was a weeks worth of exhaustion, dehydration and depression that resulted in Nesta giving in to the torture she was put through just to end it. It was a pivotal moment in the IC's efforts to break and then reconstruct her to their liking, or rather, to Feyre's liking. However, a vital stepping stone in reaching this point would be for them to gaslight and isolate her until she truly had no one. I mentioned before that I didn't think anyone in the NC would chose Nesta, and this is an example of why I believe that.

Nesta snarled, but Feyre stepped between them, hands raised. 'This conversation ends now. Nesta, go back to the House. Amren, you...' She hesitated, as if considering the wisdom of ordering Amren around. Feyre finished carefully, 'You stay here.'

Nesta is clearly upset and hurting and Feyre disregards that entierly, not even offering to discuss or find out why Nesta is hurt or feeling the way she is. Feyre didn't bother to try and understand Nesta before and she isn't bothering now. Either Feyre assumes she knows what Nesta is thinking/ feeling, or she just doesn't care. She dismisses her, telling her to go back to her prison, disregarding Nesta's choices, autonomy and opinions again.

If I recall right, it was Amren who informed Nesta that she was free to go where she wanted if she made it down the ten thousand steps. Feyre wouldn't order Amren, even to stand up for her sister, but happily go against Amren's own words to punish Nesta? Hypocrisy at it's finest.

All of this leads to one outcome: Nesta feeling trapped. Cornered and without a single ally in the whorld who would defend her properly. Isolated from anyone who'd be willing to treat her with decency, while believing she doesn't even deserve the basics of kindness. It leaves Nesta more prone to actually going through with committing suicide, since the behaviour of these people, mixed with her own self hatred, sets a precedent for how Nesta believe she'd be treated.

We see this when Nesta first meets Emerie, thinking to herself that 'the invitations would stop' when Emerie learned what nesta was really like. Or at least what Nesta perceived herself to be like.

Even though Nesta has Emerie and Gwyn, she has no reason to think, based on what brainwashing the IC has already done coupled with her self deprecating mindset, that they wouldn't side with the IC. This isn't to say Emerie and Gwyn are like the IC by any means. I think they're great friends to Nesta, and if that changes or not later on is more so up to SJM and her writing, rather than their characterisation. It's the reality that the IC have created for Nesta through abuse, gaslighting and borderline torture that's wound up feeding in to Nesta's already existing trauma and self worth that has lead to her becoming isolated this way.

And Nesta didn't care. Couldn't think around the roaring. 'Have any of them told you, their respected High lady, that the babe in your womb will kill you?'

The comment on the video I saw explained that, while Nesta was angry when saying this, she wasn't trying to hurt Feyre or take her anger out on anyone. Nesta was angry because she wasn't told that she made a new trove. She was angry that these people had the audacity to vote on her life, and take bodily autonomy from her. She was angry that Feyre wasn't acknowledging or even trying to understand how Nesta was feeling. She was angry that she was treated like the bad guy- or more like a petulant child in this scene, I suppose- and had her feelings dismissed again.

Dismissed the way her mother/grandmother used to when she was trained. The way her father did when he refused to hunt. The way the Mortal Queens did when Nesta merely asked them to save her people. The way Feyre did when she asked for Nesta's help again, and again, and again during the war, only for it to never be enough in the eyes of other. The way that Elain did when she got upset at Nesta time and time again for how she handled her trauma or how she wasn't over her trauma or how Nesta tried to protect her. The way Cassian dismissed her feelings when he got mad at her for having an opinion of Rhysand.

Nesta was angry. She had every right to be angry. Most people would be angry, and alone, and if they already had suicidal thoughts like Nesta, having been abandoned by everybody while gaslit into thinking it was fine, and then only called upon to be used for the benefit of others while the snickered behind her back and dismissed her again.

As the commenter put it; She was trying to find someone who would relate to her anger. Nesta wanted an ally, someone who wouldn't leave her alone. Someone to be by her side and, perhaps subconsciously, thought that Feyre, who'd hunted for them and helped look after them for years, would chose Nesta's side.

The parallels between Nesta and Feyre's situation here are clear, and I think Nesta understood that when she said what she said. I think that Feyre believing Nesta said it to hurt her was a gross misunderstanding on her part, but it's not like she ever asked Nesta how she felt. Now that I think about it, for all that Feyre talks about Nesta feeling too much, and taking everything to heart, she never once confirms with Nesta. Never asks how Nesta feels.

Since coming to the Night Court, Nesta's feelings and traumas have been twisted and spoken about only in relation to how Feyre feels.

'Do you know how embarrassed I was when we got the bill this morning and my friends-my family- had to hear all about it?'

The intervention began, not because of Nesta doing something to risk hurting herself, but because Feyre was embarrassed and started crying into her breakfast.

'All of it pains me… It pains me that Nesta has become… this. It pains me that she and Feyre are always at each other’s throats. It pains me that Feyre hurts over it, and I know Nesta does, too.'

Cassian is pained, not because Nesta is suffering so greatly that she isolated herself for her own sisters (who didn't really act like sisters between the end of ACOWAR to... well now, so it's understandable), or because Nesta felt her only reprieve from her pain was in sex and alcohol, but because Feyre hurts over it. He knows Nesta does (but he doesn't know she hates fire? Or is uncomfortable at their social gatherings, since in ACOFS he somehow hoped she wouldn't take the bribe money and say she enjoyed their solstice party??? Because...Why?) But, of course, it's Feyre's feelings on the matter that are prioritised.

'Nesta is Nesta. She does what she wants, even if it kills her sister.'

Rhysand, not that I expect much from him, honestly, is utpse, not because he can't find a way to help Nesta. Not because his court is actively cruel to Nesta, hell, he joins in. Not because Nesta is in pain, in no small part because of him and his court. Not even because Nesta is spending his money. Because she's upsetting Feyre. Because, god forbid, Nesta have trauma and handle it in a way that doesn't make his wife happy.

Feyre tells others how she thinks Nesta feels, the others go with it, or just come to their own conclusions, not sure which is worse, but nobody stops to consider how she feels. Feyre feeling like Nesta said it to hurt her, I think, is simply proof that she doesn't understand Nesta.

Let me ask you, if you found out you were lied to in a way that affects your ability to make informed decisions regarding your own body, by someone you were supposed to trust, and who should've had your back, and that your own sibling has been betrayed by the same people in a very similar, if not identical way, and yet you're the one being turned into the bad guy, and dismissed, would that not make you feel isolated and frustrated?

It's understandable that Nesta tried, either consciously or subconsciously, feel less alone by appealing to common ground to find an ally. Nesta mentions at the end of ACOSF that she believes Feyre loved her from the start, and after those years in the cabin, I think Nesta sees Feyre as someone reliable.

This scene doesn't feels like Nesta trying to hurt Feyre. It feels like Nesta trying to reach out to the one person she could rely on; Feyre. Her mother was abusive, her father was a deadbeat, Elain was her ward, and the IC hate her.

'Nesta studied me for a long moment. And then she said with equal quiet, though we could all hear, “I can’t get into a bathtub, anymore. I have to use buckets.” I hadn’t known—hadn’t even thought that bathing, submerging water…'

Amren tells Cassian to keep reaching out his hand, even though Nesta has reached out her own time and time again. Esspecially to Feyre, as she was the one Nesta relied on before. Possibly even the only person Nesta has ever relied on, and Fyre was the one she was trying to rely on now.

Nesta relied on Feyre, and needed to rely on her again. To have strength together, in a situation where they both lost their choices and autonomy to Rhysand and his (cause don't pretend it's even slightly Feyre's) IC.

It may have been wrong to say it in that way, at that time, under those circumstances, but this, to me, feels like Nesta's way of reaching out her own hand only to be misunderstood, punished, and dismissed again. And again. And again.

In a way, I think Feyre might have, unintentionally, betrayed Nesta in a worse way than Elain ever has. Elain was a ward. Almost like a child, to Nesta. They were never on equal footing. Moreover, Nesta was never punished if she upset Elain, no that she should be, or if Elain misunderstood her. Nesta never relied on Elain the way she relied on Feyre. She never trusted or had faith in Elain, the way she clearly trusted Feyre. She had thought she'd found an ally, with similar pain, in Feyre, in the moments she spilled the secret, but Feyre didn't care.

When I was reading the scene where Cassian told Feyre his idea to take Nesta on a punishment hike, she sounded all too gleeful when telling him how miserable Nesta would be. That, in my opinion, is the worst betrayal of all.

[blurredfloweryblood]

Guys, I'm sorry that everytime I have a big thoughtᵀᴹ about something I come and spew it on here, it's in my blood to overthink (ha, get it?? in my blood? like the hades in the blood song, because I'm going to talk about hades???)

But among all the things I like about the game, it's Zagreus characterization. When it comes to the delicate and nuanced subject of having a character trying to either free themselves from a long cycle of suffering or, trying to break the cycle of suffering altogether (which they are both the objective of Zagreus), it's very easy to fall into the slippery slope of victimizing said character. I don't blame people who do this, it's very hard to build and pinpoint exactly what you want your character to do, while maintaining their personality in adverse situations you put them in.

But Zagreus is such a good example. He is kind, and polite, yes. But he is also kind of dumb sometimes, impulsive, he is hotheaded and stubborn. And that's fine. Like, it's fine. Zagreus doesn't have to be perfect to be lovable or to break the cycle that the House of Hades is suffering. All of them have their flaws and that doesn't make them any less of deserving love and second chances.

I really like the fact that the game emphasizes that breaking said cycle is going to hurt. It's going to be ugly, and gruesome. You're going to have to destroy somethings to build them properly. And that the truth hurts. To you and everyone else. Breaking cycles is not a kind little thing where everyone holds hands and says: "maybe the happiness was us all along". No, you're going to get your hands dirty. You're going to have doubts. You're going to ask yourself if you're even doing the right thing. Seeing everybody so comfortable in deep sadness nauseates you. Why do they have to live like this? It's not your job to save them, but maybe you can help them understand and look into themselves and forgive whatever ugly thing that they're ashamed of.

Not only that, but you're going to have to recognize that your actions influenced by said cycle hurt a lot of people, and that they're your own actions as well. There are going to be rocky, and you will say things that will hurt them, and they will say hurtful things back. But bonds are not perfect. Friendships and bonds are not pure or innocent. Sometimes they're going to be strained, but you can fix them with the help of people. If the other wants to help; you can both heal.

I'm not saying that you have to repair every single thing. No, you have to give them their own space, their own time to think and consider things. Maybe things will change, but that doesn't mean it's for nothing. When it comes to Zagreus, that has quite literally a lot of people against him (consciously or forced), he recognizes that he's going to have to fight back. That he's going to have to strike back. And sometimes we are afraid to show how gruesome it can be to shake the foundations of a cycle that we're so comfortable in. Because we are not alone in said misery, and nobody really tries to do anything but push forward.

Meagera being a constant enemy is not her being evil. She's hurt, and angry, and confused but also being pushed to this. She doesn't really want to, but she grinds her teeth. Your father doesn't understand you, and blocks your path. Not because he doesn't love you, but because he doesn't know any other fucking way. He doesn't like killing you, he doesn't like having you blood melting the snow, but how else is he going to protect both Persephone and you? How else is he supposed to keep peace? He was swallowed by his father, and then, you were born, and you were such a tiny, little thing. And his hands are big and rough, and he doesn't want to hold you because how is he going to raise you? He doesn't know anything about children or godlings. And he can't stop from biting at your spirit, and maybe he's just like his father. Eating you away. He is distant and close in the most horrible ways. He appoints Nyx to care for you, because she knows. And she can love you, in ways that he can't.

And you don't know how to change because you're knee deep in this black goop of stupid spirals of anger and sadness. And your son is so different, and you can't, you can't look at him. He's like her, he is just like her. And you feel the sting of tears in your eyes when you're alone in your bedroom looking at her portrait. He is just like her, and like you too. And by everything you want to understand him, but you have no fucking idea.

And Zagreus doesn't want to kill his father. He doesn't want to raise his sword and cut him in halves. He doesn't want him to fall on his knees and be swallowed by the river, you've been there, and you know how horrible it is. Washed up by the stairs, with emptiness of coming back. To crumbling walls and crying shades.

You don't want to kill your father, you don't want to kill Meg, you don't want to scathe Thanatos with your words. But you have to, you're going to have to stain your hands. And make them hate you a little, because that's how it is. You hated them a little, and then you understood.

Breaking cycles is ugly, and full of angryness and pain and wandering in circles. Stepping forward, stepping back. But when everyone understands, they all sigh in relief. The house is still the same; but it's a little warmer, a little better. And little more lovable.

You can talk to each other without biting back. Without stepping on glass. Without pulling out knives, waiting to parry an attack.

Sometimes there's going to be a second chance. Sometimes it's not. Breaking cycles it's not about forgiving everything and moving past it. In the game, they all have to gulp down the bitterness and sting of their own words. In the game they are still trying to coexist. It's not perfect, it's not pretty. Old hurtful habits come to us when it's all peaceful, because now that things are changing they creep out, trying to pull us back. But it really is beautiful how Zagreus is constructed. He is not perfect. He is impulsive, and sarcastic and he bites back, he can strike back and he will. He dislikes people. And he's also kind, and witty and funny and polite. And loves so so much. He is allowed to make mistakes and fail. All of us are. He doesn't have to be perfect to be loved. Nobody has.

Zagreus really is one of my favorite characters because of how complex he is. And how well balanced the bonds in the game are. I know it can be exasperating to have Thanatos say hurtful things or have Meg being cold. But you have to remember that they are all used to the misery. And they are not perfect either. They are kind too, and love and have their ways of expressing it, but they're also allowed to be sad, and angry. Everyone is. Sometimes you're going to fuck up, sometimes you're going to make a mistake and you'll have to swallow your own hurtful words and feel how they stung the other person. And that's okay. That's totally fine. That's life.

[yanderes-galore]

Can I request general hc for Arthur from RDR 2?

I can try, sure! I apologize if any information is wrong, I tried to research as best as I could ^^; Not proofread, may have mistakes.

Yandere! Arthur Morgan Concept

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Violence, Murder mention, Blood, Stalking, Threats, Kidnapping, Fear of loss, Angst, Actually sad near the end, Forced companionship/relationship.

An important thing to know about Arthur is this; He knows he's a bad man.

There are times he's kind, polite, and playful.

But overall he knows he's hurt people, will hurt people, and that he isn't the most likable person to most.

Which means, while he may be very caring and protective of you, he can do some downright diabolical things to have you.

Arthur is a very complex and emotional character, I hope in this concept I can respect that aspect about him.

He may be a better yandere on his high honor path, but he still is capable of some bad things.

He's even worse on his low honor path.

It's funny how an outlaw and criminal like him can treat you with such care despite the amount of blood on his hands.

Arthur is quick to resort to violence, murder, and intimidation... but still doesn't do unnecessary revenge or killing.

He is fully aware of the blood on his hands... but treats you with respect.

Arthur treats you as though you're innocent, even if you are in the gang.

He could be like a close friend to you... a mentor... or even a lover.

Regardless of his intentions he is very intent on meeting your needs.

I imagine when Arthur first meets you he tries not to be attached.

With his line of work, anything could happen.

You or him could be shot in any sort of altercation, so he tries to put up walls.

Although, soon he's attached to you, acting playful and concerned about you.

Arthur is definitely someone in denial about his obsession for a long while.

But eventually he caves, craving the comfort you give him.

Arthur doesn't blame you if you're scared of him.

Your fear is deserved, after all.

But your fear does not change how much he cares for you.

Arthur is a man who threatens, steals, murders, etc.

He really doesn't care too much about what he does due to being raised by Dutch.

He sometimes has remorse... but if he does something to protect you, he prioritizes that.

Arthur is at first not very affectionate.

Yet as he gets attached he ends up hugging you, perhaps going further if that's his intentions.

Arthur is scared of his own death, but he's also scared of yours.

When it comes to you he tries to think things through, he thinks of ways to protect you and care for you.

If you're in the gang then he thinks of ways to get you out of it.

He wants you safe, he feels you shouldn't live a life such as this.

If he can... he wants to join you.

Arthur and John are similar yanderes, or at least RDR1 John is.

They'd have their clothes soaked in blood, all so they can make sure you live another day happy.

Gunpowder may coat their hands but they feel they have protected you.

Arthur knows he is a "bad" man... but he wants to be better with you.

Arthur will protect you from everything, including unwanted flirting.

Another member flirts with you?

Somehow Arthur knows about it and threatens them.

You'd swear he was stalking you (whose to say he isn't?).

Arthur may even force you to stay put in certain "safe areas" while he heads out.

Soon he isn't sure if he can trust Dutch with you.

Especially when the man falls into his own insanity.

Maybe by the peak of Arthur's obsession, his own sanity, he tries to get you and him in a home together.

I also feel his obsession gets worse when he learns of his sickness.

Arthur knows the tuberculosis will claim him soon.

It may even drive him insane with ideas.

As a result, imagine him taking you away to a cabin with him.

He locks the doors and keeps you beside him.

He is fully aware that he's scaring you, he knows this is wrong...

But in the final months of his life, he wants to be beside you.

So he traps you with him... away from everything you know...

Everything except him.

He can't bear to lose you... so he plans on keeping you with him for the rest of his life... all because he loves you... even if you hate this.