#this isn't canon but its funny to think it would be

[willowlevulett]

The second part of my self-indulgent Jayce smokes sadly on the balcony drabble. Truly, this man can not be written without a desperate longing for his lab partner. Small CW for a small reference of Jayce's canon attempt.

-

The balcony door clicks closed. Jayce feels his throat close along with it.

The freezing air wraps like a wreath around the soft brown hair of his partner, puffs of white smoke from his lips. Puffs of white smoke from Jayce's. Despite everything, all he wants is to know what it tastes like if those clouds meet in the middle.

Despite everything, he wants to press his palm back to the side of his throat for the entirety of whatever was to come. He wants to feel the words Viktor was about to press into the distance between them. If they are to be seperated, deathly final and with a flourish, Jayce wishes he could enscribe each syllable to the harsh callouses on his fingers.

Dramatic, Caitlyn would tease him.

Viktor, despite the surely audible thrash of Jayce's fast beating heart, simply sits and does not speak for several minutes. He stares forward, his eyes focused in a way Jayce knew that he was not on this balcony. Not really. He was a million miles away, dissecting and ripping apart something with his teeth. Savoring each mouthful before he would even think to bring it to Jayce. So he waits, like he always does.

He busies himself with straightening out the mess he made. The one he can at least. The ash tray, now chipped but intact, returns to its spot on the small side table. He scoots his chair back into the position it was before and tosses the chip of glass from the tray into the small trash can where he throws his cigarette butts. It is finished woefully fast and Viktor still isn't looking at him.

He lights another cigarette, angling his chair away from Viktor and blowing the thick smoke out over the side of the balcony. The freezing wind whips it away and ushers it off to better things. His sighs through his teeth. This was stupid. He should just shatter this silence between them. He usually does whenever he messes up bad enough for Viktor to have to gut and clean the imagined Jayce in his head. Looking for clues in the bloodied carcass of his imagined partner of how he could be so stupid. Usually, Viktor would give up, hands buried deep in his spectral innards and demand that Jayce give him the taste of the real thing. And Jayce does, every time.

Jayce would let Viktor rip him open from sternum to hip hone. Would let him dig through as he pleases, caress organs and sinew with the methodical care only Viktor is capable of. Precise and calculated movements, laced with warmth and that small smile Jayce loves so dearly.

Jayce wants to scream 'tell me what to do and I'll do it. I would tear myself apart to keep you warm'.

He keeps his goddamn mouth shut and takes another drag.

"I hate that you got an apartment with a balcony."

The silence stretched for so long, the statement said so briskly that Jayce once again startles.

He huffs a humorless laugh, smoke bleeding through his lips as he repsonds.

"Come on, Vik. You know I'm too dramatic to settle for my own balcony."

"That's not funny."

"It's a little cold to be funny. What did you need? I know you need something. You got that look in your eye like your knee deep in my fucking brain stem." Viktor doesn't turn his head but his eyes shift, giving him an incredulous side eye like Jayce should have no idea that he does that. Feeling bold, Jayce steadily meets his sideways gaze, dares him to deny the assessment.

"I can guess but I always prefer to get my dress downs directly from your mouth." This makes the side of Viktor's mouth quirk. Jayce almost hopes he takes the bait that statement creates. At least it would make this conversation more bearable.

He doesn't.

"What you said." The pause afterward makes Jayce want to tear his hair out. God, he could feel that this conversation was going to be a sputtering engine. Roaring to life and then choking out black smoke, stuttering to a stop in painful stalls.

"You can't just," he bites down onto his lower lip, running it between his teeth before releasing it, "say things like that."

Jayce wishes Viktor would take him between his teeth. Leave dents and marks in him until Viktor was satisfied.

"But it was cruel of me to send you away like that. I apologize."

Cruel is how Viktor still hasn't fully looked at him. Cruel is the unsteady breath Jayce is taking and the pinprick of tears behind his eyes. Cruel is the freezing night air that rushes in the space between their bodies.

The conversation sputters black smoke.

Finally, after one long drag, Jayce rubs his temple and manages to push the words out, "Okay, well, thanks for that. And I am sorry that I made you uncomfortable. I'll keep my feelings to myself from now on."

Viktor seems to crumble in on himself at that. The side of his face looks pained which confuses Jayce. Is this conversation not a continuation of the rejection he received last night? What did Viktor want from this? It certainly wasn't what Jayce just said.

He could feel the cogs slipping in the machine but he couldn't see where it was misaligned. He needed to tear the hatch cover off, get his hands dirty, and potentially mangled in the process.

Well, if there's anything Jayce is good at, it was certainly throwing himself into the blazing heat of forward motion. What were a couple more scars anyway.

"Why does it make you so uncomfortable? Is it truly so horrible that I feel this way for you?" He meant to sound firm, maybe even stern. Instead he sounds petulant, small. The last part of the sentence whispered with a mortifying crack in his voice. He also realizes he hasn't said what he means. Not really. He knows his eyes poured out the truth like a weeping wound, staining Viktor and the couch below them both. But there is a misaligned cog here.

"Viktor, I-"

"I can't." Black smoke, a click of a tongue in frustration, the restart of the engine, "You can't play with me like this, Jayce. You can't look at me like all the hookups you sweep off their feet in bars. I can't be that for you." It was his turn for his voice to drop down into quiet and small. The voice crack sending painful shivers down Jayce's spine.

The statement is so confusing to him at first that he simply stays still for a second, his cigarette dropping ash between his thighs. Can't be that for you and all the hookups you sweep off their feet.

What?

"What?" The misaligned cog in the conversation catches him in the meat of his thumb, ripping out a chunk and sending his heart into a painful squeeze.

"You think that I- oh gods Viktor please look at me."

Finally, oh finally, Viktor turns and his molten honey gaze burns into Jayce. If he was a funeral pyre, Jayce would light the wood himself.

"You think I want a quick, messy fuck?" He huffs out a laugh at the thought. Gods, no. Jayce wanted to bash his skull open and leave his cerebrum as an offering at Viktor's feet.

"Well it makes the most logical sense. You were inebriated and looking at me like-" he clears his throat awkwardly, "like you wanted to eat me alive. After all these years? Of me quietly- well it made the most sense. And I got, emotional. Angry." He shakes his head as if this was the most ridiculous part of the situation, him being angry at Jayce.

"Quietly what, Viktor."

"Please, Jayce."

"Quietly what?"

The wind stills, as if holdings its breath along with the two men on the balcony. Jayce was and always will be reckless.

Jayce slides down onto his knees, the cold ground immediately biting through his jeans and into the bone. He puts his hands forward, clasped as if in prayer, onto Viktor's lap. When the other man startles and looks down at him with a wild look in his eye, Jayce slips his prayers between them, grabbing firmly onto Viktor's hands. His breath, tinged with cigarette smoke and the heat of his emotions boiling over in his stomach, puffs up into the face of the man he's so desperately in love with.

"I am in love with you. So painfully, so wholly that those words aren't enough. If I could tear out my heart and let you inspect it for defects, for a lie, I would. If I could carve your every breath into my ribs, I would. Whatever you want. Whatever you need." He shifts on the ground, pain pulsing up from his right knee. A crunching noise reaches past the pulse pounding in his ears, and he realizes that there was a tiny shard of glass under that knee. He hopes the wound scars.

"I don't care what you have 'quietly' been feeling this whole time. If it's a fraction of what I feel or simply tolerance. I don't care. I'm done folding this away and trying to be normal. I will be whatever you want me to be. A lover, a partner only in the lab, your bed warmer on cold nights. Whatever you want. If I could hand over my soul for you, I would"

As soon as he finishes his dramatic speech, he realizes he means it. More than anything, he means it. He feels insane. He is insane. Those are insane words to say to someone, no matter how entwined you are with them. Despite this, he wants to say more. Needs to say more.

"I don't want to eat you alive." Jayce presses a kiss reverently to Viktor's red tinged knuckles. "I want you to eat me alive."

Black smoke clears, the engine clicks into gear. Viktor's hand snakes out from Jayce's grip and latches onto his chin, a mirror of last night but flipped on its head. Last nights grip was stilling, horrifying, causing him to beg for forgiveness before even knowing the sin. Instead, this touch was electrifying, a potential. A spark for a wildfire that Jayce's mouth stretches open to catch on his tongue. Viktor's thumb sweeps to the side, catching on his lower lip and staying there like it was always meant to.

"You mean it." His mouth is apage in awe, his breath ghosting past his lips and puffing over Jayce's face. "Fuck, you really mean it, Jayce."

And like god sending rain down to parched earth, Viktor presses his freezing, chapped lips to Jayce's. The spark alights on Jayce's teeth and burns through him in a blink of an eye, a gasped breath pushed against a closed mouth.

The kiss descends quickly from the press of lips Viktor might have meant it to be into Jayce desperately angling his head upwards, greedily sucking Viktor's bottom lip between his. Determined to feel where his teeth had sunk into it just a couple minutes earlier. It tastes like smoke, like hot iron, like day old coffee. He drinks it down and begs for more, pressing upwards so his hands can slip from Viktor's lap and into his hair. It's sweaty at the nape from a day in the lab and tangled from his incessant play of the strands there. It's everything Jayce thought it would be. Viktor gasps against his mouth, and that too is everything Jayce had hoped it would be and so much more. Hot and humid breaths passed between mouths. Teeth clicking in a desperate attempt to get closer. Viktor's hand tangling in the fabric of Jayce's sweater, tugging insistently forward, forward, forward.

They break for air out of necessity, but Jayce doesn't let them separate. He buries his face into that column of throat he so desperately wants to map with his tongue.

"I fear more talking will be needed." Viktor out of breath, chest heaving panting breaths that Jayce can feel where his lips brush his neck.

"After. Whatever you need. But after." And Jayce pulls his face down to his once more.

[askmafiabobvelseb]

his first words!

[paradimeart]

Would kup have gotten roped into having to watch one of the little orbbies? Like little rodimus? Or did he just get to sit back and laugh at ratchet and his rambunctious little guy.

ratchets on standby for training accidents (part of his agreement to be allowed to stay with omega) so he's met orbimus once or twice but has no idea what he's looking at. ratchet would rather explode than let anyone else alone with that thang

even before the war it wasn't really very common knowledge what protoforms actually looked like since they were so heavily guarded. and they still are. so no kup wouldn't babysit

[b0nelessdoodles]

screw it i'm posting the other little chunk of this silly little au thing 'cause i want to and it might motivate me to idk clean it up and finish it yippee!

[science-lings]

Dialogue from TGAA that tickles my brain in the context of my Actual Phoenix!Naruhodo's AU

Not-very-local man is totally normal about fire:

It's just stated too many times to be normal, I don't have a screenshot but I remember Susato warning Ryunosuke against getting too close to the fireplace so he doesn't set himself on fire and I like to think she said that bc he does hang out way too close to the flames with Wagahai, let the little guys get warm...

Discussions of the reoccurring mentions of humanity and bird symbolism under the cut

'Only Human' but is he? (and other discussions about mortality)

This would just be so funny for Kazuma to think if Ryunosuke wasn't quite human

Ryunosuke is less skeptical when it comes to things like ghosts and curses, so I could see him believing in the reaper's curse in the context that Barok has something otherworldly going on bc Ryunosuke knows exactly what it's like to have something going on, maybe he was looking for some form of comradery but unfortunately, he didn't get it. Turns out it's just a myth he uses to batman his way through London. Use other's fear of him against them and all that.

Even if each discussion of humanity isn't targeted at Ryunosuke specifically, he's still included in the 'like everyone else' and I find that funny with the Phoenix AU in mind. It keeps being brought up and he has to be like 'haha... yeah... i get that...' while he's sitting on the knowledge that he isn't human, he isn't normal, no matter how much he's trying to be 'just some guy' he's fated to be drawn towards situations where he's actually so important. Every time the phrase 'we're only human' comes up he's reminded that that's exactly what he isn't but no one else can know.

bird guy talks about bird without being suspicious

Also on what Ryunosuke could've meant by this I found some info on the symbolism of sparrows:

In Japanese culture, sparrows hold special symbolism. They are seen as messengers of joy and happiness, bringing good fortune to those who encounter them. Sparrows also represent resilience and adaptability, as they can thrive in different environments and overcome challenges. In Japan, sparrows are often associated with the arrival of spring, symbolizing new beginnings and hope for the future. Their cheerful presence is believed to bring harmony into people’s lives and foster a sense of community.

and I interpret that into Ryunosuke seeing Kazuma as this resilient idealistic figure and as the hope to make a difference (his goal to make japans legal system better), but also he is the person that brings Ryunosuke the most joy.

also...

spotting a sparrow on your windowsill was considered the presence of a deceased loved one watching over you.

Which tracks as Ryunosuke copes by believing that Kazuma resides within Karuma and is 'with' him throughout his whole journey. He takes comfort in the idea that some part of Kazuma is watching over him and regularly addresses him as such.

anyway bird tangent over, He's also got the thing when you realize that it's a miracle that he is even alive (ie. swallowing all his pills at once, making an enemy of the british government, like they really just let him reveal government secrets and only put him in a time-out, like those were Stronghart's secrets and he was still like 'I guess you can just go to detention idc')

this was actually mostly just for me to compilate relevant screenshots, but if anyone else finds this interesting that's pretty cool too ig.

[bees-of-chaos]

I think jon would lose his shit if he ever found out that there was a podcast just about all his pain and suffering that people listen to on the daily to feel good and get a little spooked

can you imagine someone telling him

yeah jon there's cute merch about the dread powers that have haunted you your entire life

yeah people ship you and Elias there's a ton of fanfics about it

oh and what's it called you ask?

The Magnus Archives

Idk I think he'd like spontaneously combust if he heard that

[selfcontainedunivcrse]

thinking about my beautiful OC and it's Developments. a big thing for me w cVwoop is that it was supposed to be very talkative. it cannot stop talking. it reads pretty nervous (mainly on account of it having a stutter, bc it was developed over vc, And I Do This,) but this is its neutral state and a sign of proper enrichment in ur Vwoop. Typically it only ceases to stutter and um when it's really really considering things and has to be Slash SRS. Trying to force level-headedness.

except these days. erm. the Horrors. Nothing that it can say is making the horrors any better for anyone. What CAN you say. It doesn't want to make anyone sadder (it doesn't understand what a social cue is). It's sort of learned to accept comfortable silence — it always feels a tad uncomfortable when it just. doesn't know what to say. but it's okay. Just a bit different.

[skymagpie]

I like that Architects have no gender the way we know it, but they understand the concept of gender in other species (since Al-An correctly identifies Marguerit as a woman and uses she/her for Lillian), which is so funny because most people and the wiki and everything calls him with he/him pronouns so I wonder if Robin just told him all the options and he just picked the first like he doesn’t care but we call him he/him and he is okay with it!

[the-acid-pear]

Yesterday I had 3 thoughts but I was like I'll remember tomorrow I won't wake up to type them now and I forgot two BUT I remembered one of them so that's huge

[just-some-random-blogger]

Tormented Spirit | 5

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 4k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, panic/anxiety attacks, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: guys this not fully proofread as I am exhausted | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat

You cannot tear your eyes away from Daemon as you walk down the halls together. Though he already told you the blood on his armor was not his, you could not help but worry that perhaps he had a wound hidden away underneath his steel plate. Your stare is so heavy, he's unable to ignore it, thus why he huffs, "out with it."

You perk at his words and rub your hands together.

He raises a brow at you, "or do you merely think me so devastatingly handsome you cannot help but stare?"

You slowly shake your head, "are you certain you are unharmed?"

His eyes linger on you for a moment before he looks forward, "I am offended you did not agree."

You knit your brows, "you," you shake your head, "already know. You are comely husband."

He turns back to you.

You cannot name the expression he gives you.

"Did I not say I was unharmed?"

You stop in your tracks out of frustration, grabbing his arm, "Daemon."

He turns to you, face hardening at your look of concern.

"If you are hurt, then we should head for the maester's."

He chuckles under his breath and pulls away, "a funny thought coming from you."

Your brows furrow deeper as you tail after him, "I do not follow."

He looks over his shoulder, lips curling, "considering you are sick and yet nowhere near the maester's ward."

You only then recognize his smile was mocking. You feel a pinch in your chest. You shake your head, "we are not the same. If there was something to be done about my affliction, my father would have seen it done years ago."

Daemon laughs.

You wait for him to explain his laughter, but he does not. You take his arm again, "what amuses you?"

Your husband looks at you, then at the hand you had on his bicep, "through it all, you hold your father in such high regard."

You clench your jaw and release his him.

He enjoys your dejection, thus why he takes your hand, placing it back in its place with a chuckle, "say it isn't so— I dare you."

You look back at him. His smile is like a needle through your heart. He must think you're stupid without even trying. You mutter, "I am merely stating facts."

He laughs again, "your frail heart keeps you naive."

The feel of his armor is suddenly scorching and you have to pull away. He stares at you after the fact, but does not take your hand again.

You do not speak until you reach the door to the meeting room. Once there, Daemon motions with his head, "wait for me. You like flowers don't you?"

You look over your shoulder and realize that he was motioning to the window that gave view to the gardens. You turn back to him and step forward, reaching out to retrieve the flower in his hair. It would not be appropriate for him to attend a council meeting like this.

Daemon mistakes your action for affection, and moves his head away so you cannot caress his cheek, "I said I am unharmed, woman. Now go sit down."

He walks off after this, leaving you standing in the middle of the hall alone. Just as he enters the room, you struggle with yourself if you should call out to him or simply run up to him and snatch the flower off his head. But then, the moment is gone and he's already inside.

You cannot find it in you to sit as you overthink what would become of your husband because of the flower in his hair.

Just as you begin to pace around, you are rendered frozen when you hear your name get called.

Viserys smiles at you, as he and his council members walk over, "good morrow."

You make eye contact with your father, who was walking just behind the king, and lower your gaze as you curtsy, "your grace. A pleasant morning to you."

Viserys stops in front of you, clapping his hands once, "why, you look fetching my dear," his eyes examine your hair, and you, yourself, are reminded by the presence of the blossoms on your head, "did you pick those from the garden?"

You rise and smile at your husband's brother, shaking your head, "my ward, ser Erryk, was kind enough to- ..." you catch yourself amidst your confession, eyes suddenly darting to your father.

Otto's jaw is set and his eyes are already angered.

You gulp and decide to continue nevertheless, "...accompany me flower picking in the meadow."

Otto huffs audibly, but the king's reaction is so stark in contrast, your father does not have the opportunity to butt in this moment. Viserys claps once again and smiles, "oh good. Some fresh air always did help me. Of course, when I say fresh air, I really mean going on dragon back, but strolling in the meadow picking flowers is a fine pastime."

You are touched by the king's amicable sentiment. You repay his smile with your own, "I completely agree."

"I do not," Otto says, "what if you get an attack in the middle of the nowhere? What if the pain is too great and you are not brought home in time?"

Viserys and you turn to the Lord Hand. The king responds, "she was accompanied by her ward. Is that not why you requested one for her?"

"I requested a ward to keep her in check to prevent her from doing things that would cause her affliction to worsen."

You tense under the harsh sound of Otto's voice.

Viserys recognizes your discomfort and waves him off, "you needn't be so hard on your daughter. It is good for the spirit to reserve time frolicking."

You gulp the next time the king smiles at you. You do not smile back and merely curtsy at him. With that, he and his council members go into their meeting room and you are left alone once more.

The council members' muttering comes to a halt when they see prince Daemon in his seat.

"Kind of you to join us today, brother," Viserys huffs, "we were just talking about you."

Daemon eyes Otto, "the topic being my bride, no doubt."

Otto has to fight the urge to roll his eyes as he walks to his chair. His throat constricts, as if he was about to retch, when he sees the flower by his ear. He thinks of you and the flowers in your hair and figures Daemon did this to spur him on. He releases a deep breath to calm himself, "the topic being your power tripping with the City Watch last night."

Daemon glares at him. The king sits at the head of the table. The prince links his hands together, "you would know to mind your tongue, Lord Hand. I care little for the tears my wife will shed once I sever your neck from your spine."

"Daemon," Viserys snaps.

"And what I did last night was clean the streets from the putrid scabs of the city in preparation for my birth of my brother's child."

"And you exacted a very public show of extreme violence while doing so," Viserys leans on the table, "you maimed and mutilated peopl-"

"Criminals," Daemon whips his head. He raises his brows, "would you rather they strut free and continue stealing, raping, and killing in your city?"

"I would have them see justice."

Daemon chuckles dryly.

Viserys raises a finger, "your blade is not the writ of justice."

"Do you mean to tell me it's yours?" the younger Targaryen narrows his eyes.

"I AM THE KING," the elder Targaryen snaps.

The prince does not flinch, "speaking loudly will not make it truer, brother."

Needless to say, the meeting is coarse and uncomfortable.

You start from where you were sat by the window upon witnessing Daemon shove the meeting doors open. He storms out of the room grumbling and you have to gather your skirts to run off after him.

"What's happened?" you mutter when you reach his side.

He ignores you, simply continuing to march away with a storm cloud overhead.

You are partially surprised to find that he was heading towards your shared chambers. He shoves the doors open then marches towards your private baths. There, your tub holds steaming water. You were grateful the servants thought to prepare the bath here and not Daemon's personal quarters.

Daemon begins to callously remove his armor and immediately ceases when you come towards him to do it yourself. You look between his hard expression and hard attire, thinking of something to say to calm his down.

You think of nothing.

The moment he is free of his steel, he removes the rest of his garbs himself and steps into the tub. You meant to remove the flower in his hair but then he wordlessly offers you his arm, expecting you to clean him, and so you do without fuss.

In the quiet of washing and splashing water, you feel Daemon slowly begin to relax. He leans back, releasing a sigh as he shuts his eyes. You stare at him for a long moment. He is beautiful.

"Your father is a fucking cunt."

You purse your lips as you release his arm. He opens his eyes when you pull away, then watches as you circle around the tub. You sigh as you take his other arm and begin scrubbing it, "he is... sometimes unkind."

He scoffs, turning to you, "sometimes?"

You focus on his arm, unwanting to meet his gaze, "he was kind to my mother... I think. And to my brother... sister... sometimes."

Daemon watches you, brows furrowing, "and you?"

You shrug, "sometimes?"

"Why do you defend him?" he tilts his head.

Finally, you look at him. The glint in his violet eyes make him appear as though he genuinely wanted to understand you. You shrug once more and shake your head, "he is my father."

"He is a cunt."

You tilt your head, scooping water onto his arm, "surely you've thought the same thing about your brother." You look between his arm and his face.

Daemon does not respond. He does, however, pull away from you.

You stare at him, trying to anticipate his next move.

He motions with his head then leans back in the tub once more, "strip. You should bathe with me."

You stiffen at his proposal, but do not object otherwise. You gather your hair and turn around, "will you undo my laces?"

Daemon, for some reason, is taken aback by the request. There is something that swirls in his gut. Still, he moves towards you and undoes your ties, pushing your dress down after. You shudder when he frees you of your shift and strokes your spine with the back of his hand.

"The king demands we have a family dinner before the tourney tomorrow," Daemon mindlessly mutters, "you must wear something pretty."

You gulp when he kisses your shoulder and scratches your sides until he's cupping your breasts. You gasp and turn when he tries to pull you in. Finally, the flower in his hair falls off when your nails dig into his scalp as he kisses you.

By the time the water goes cold and your bliss from love making wears off, you are faced with the fact your neck and collarbones are covered in glaring purple and red marks again.

Daemon does not relent as you both dress. He is adamant in covering your skin with bruises and bites. You are not surprised that he makes you wear something that showcases your decolletage, but you at least find solace in the fact he makes you keep your hair down in its natural state.

The air is tense as your families eat dinner. You sit next to each other, with him to your right, followed by Viserys and Aemma. In front of the queen was Rhaenyra, then Alicent by the left, Gwyane, and finally your father, who sat before you.

There was something serene in the sinister way Daemon strokes your arm and pushes your hair back. You knew he was doing this to rile your father up, yet you did not know why your body found comfort in his touch.

Then, in a flash, you were nothing but uncomfortable when your twin drops his silverware and blurts out, "you will not lose your hand if it does not grope my sister as we feast."

Daemon, who had been rubbing the your back all the way to the side of your breast, turned to your brother, who sat across him.

Gwayne clenches his jaw, expecting him to pull away.

Instead, Daemon moves your hair to one side of your shoulder and caresses your neck with the back of his hands, "oh, but you see, now that I've..." he smiles, "sampled your dear sister, I fear that it might."

Otto is next to drop his utensils. Your body burns at Daemon's words but you can do nothing but lower your head in mortification.

Viserys sniggers. Aemma glares and nudges him.

"You would not understand this, for you are unmarried," Daemon says turning his head, "but perhaps your father will."

Viserys nearly chokes on his meal, but then clears his throat, "brother-" he withholds his laughter, "-that is quite enough." The king looks at the faces across the table, none of them but him and Daemon finding this predicament amusing, "I'm sure everyone is... overjoyed that you and your bride have found marital bliss, but do keep your manners," he nods, "you are seated before the king."

Daemon turns to Viserys and straightens up. He nods, "my king."

Viserys clears his throat again and nods, "manners, brother."

"Hmm, like you with Aemma?"

Rhaenyra slams her hands on the table, pushes her chair back, and stands. All turns to her and her sour expression as she speaks, "I'm quite finished with my food. If I may be excused... my king."

Otto stands next, his chair skidding behind him, "I am quite finished with my food as well," he nods at Viserys, "I wish you a good meal."

Your belly rolls when he looks at you.

"Daughter, might you walk me out of the room, there is something I wish to discuss with you."

"She is quite busy with her food," Daemon immediately answers for you, "if you wish to speak something, speak it in front of us."

Your throat tightens.

"Tis a personal matter," Otto speaks firmly, "I would not put my child in an uncomfortable position."

Gwayne watches your expression, feeling restless because of your glaring discomfort.

"But you've already done so announcing your desire to speak to her so that she could not refuse," Daemon snaps.

Your chest begins to constrict. Gwyane picks up on how your breath quickens.

Otto clenches his jaw, "I wish to speak to my daughter."

"Yes, and I say fuck off."

"Daemon," Viserys finally snaps, turning to the said man. The king turns to you, peering past his brother, "you may speak to Otto if you wish, or you may simply continue with your meal."

You turn to your skirt and clench the fabric in your hand.

Daemon rubs your nape and your skin reacts with goosebumps. You gasp when his hand is snatched away by Viserys. You turn to them, struggling to breathe as you watch them bicker in High Valyrian.

Aemma tries to interject, but the brothers do not acknowledge her.

"Sister," Gwayne calls to you.

You want to turn to him, but you fear you will crumble in tears if you do.

The room is silenced when you stand. You feel everyone's gaze on your skin. "I wish-" you speak through a heavy breath, "-to retire."

You run out of the room before anyone can respond. Your heart drums in its cage but you tell yourself to run and to keep running.

Gwyane stands, ready to chase after you, but Daemon blocks him and their bodies violently collide. Daemon shoves him back and Gwyane is about to lunge at him but hears the voice of her baby sister calling his name in concern. His face twitches as he holds himself back.

"She is my wife," Daemon says.

"Then fucking go after her," Gwayne snaps, raising an arm, "she'll be heading to the temple, undoubtedly, which is outside the Keep, if you are not aware."

"Go on!" Otto snaps, pointing a finger, "chase after her."

Daemon seethes at the instruction. Dare he? He'll break the arm that fucking finger is connected to. He wants nothing less than to do what that cunt says.

"Go to her, Daemon," Viserys urges.

He glares at his brother, offended by his alliance with the fucker. Now he is really not going to do that. He's left with no other choice but to leave the damned dining room though. How lucky of him to run into the Cargyll twins on his way out.

"You," Daemon barks, calling the attention of the two men. He marches over to them, hands balled tightly into fists.

"My p-"

"The fucking Hand has upset the bitch again," the prince snaps, "she's run off in a fit to gods know where."

The two watch the prince have a hissy fit in High Valyrian before realizing he referring to his wife. Arryk says, "the princess has run off at this hour?"

"Her cunt twin said she'd go to the temple, but maybe she's fallen dead halfway through her sprint."

The twins turn to each other in horror.

"Ah, if only the gods were that kind," Daemon scoffs then looks between them, "find her. I do not wish to hear her pathetic sobbing."

Erryk's nostrils flare. Arryk clenches his jaw and nods. The latter begins to walk off and has to reel his brother by the arm to follow.

Daemon storms off to the dragon pit.

Arryk eyes his brother. Erryk's eyes remain on the prince, until his twin calls his attention.

You arrive at the temple of the Seven, forehead and nape sheened over with sweat. You nearly collapse before the Mother. The only reason you do not, is because two septas catch you before you collide with the shrine of candles. Upon recognizing you, they are quick to attend to you, saying they will get you water and a towel.

Running is a horrid activity that seems to only more horrid each time you do it. You find that your heart cannot keep up, and you are pushed into horrible breathlessness. Your father was strict to never let you run. You do not know if it is simply because you are not capable of running or because of your affliction that made it so.

You thank the gracious septas for their care and ask them if they would pray with you. Unable to deny you, a woman so devout and so... pitiful, they help you get on your knees and you recite The Mother's prayer together. At some point, you begin to weep, and once more it becomes increasingly harder for you to breathe. The septas have to stop praying and attend to you again.

"Princess!"

You are made to sit down on the floor. The two septas are replaced with two men, both dressed in steel, one as seemly as the other, albeit the mark of abject concern on their face. You frown as you look between Arryk and Erryk's worried features. Your scratch your eyes as they speak to you. The weight in your chest makes it hard to understand.

You hiccup as one of them scoops you into their arms. You do not realize you were being carried out of the temple until you are outside. "Wait," you sigh when you managed to catch a breath, "wait."

Whoever is carrying you does not hear it, but his brother does. He says, "wait, Erryk. What is it, princess?"

"I wish to pray," you mutter, eyes still wet with tears, "please."

Arryk looks at you. Erryk shakes his head, "we have to bring her inside."

"Erryk," Arrryk knits his brows, "she wishes to pray."

"She is in no condition to—" Erryk's words falter when your hand comes to his cheek.

You feel your lips tremble and you barely manage to speak, "please."

A line forms between his brows at the sound of your weak voice, "my prin-"

"Erryk," you stroke his cheek, "I need this."

Arryk looks between you and his brother. He watches him sigh and turn back. He follows after Erryk as he goes up the stairs, back towards the shrine.

You are placed before the Mother once more. You sigh and allow yourself repose before shifting on your knees. The twins leave you to your prayers, standing by not too far off.

Erryk's eyes remain on you. Arryk's eyes remain on Erryk.

"You tread a dangerous path, brother."

Erryk does look away.

Arryk sighs, turning his gaze over to you.

You sit on your knees, one arm rested on the plinth as you take a stick and light it. You whisper, "mummy," then light a candle, "me," then light another. Your soft whispers flutter in the echo chamber.

Both twins feel fangs rip into their stomachs as they watch you. Erryk's features are more honest to it however, which is why Arryk catches it and speaks again, "you are sworn to her, you fool."

"And you are not?" Erryk snaps, turning to his twin.

The brothers stare at each other for a moment. Arryk purses his lips and tilts his head, "I am not in love with her."

"Then leave," Erryk motions with a nod. He shifts in his spot, linking his hands together as he turns back back to you.

Arryk snorts and clenches is hands. His ears perk at the sound of your hushed sobbing. His heart clogs his throat.

Erryk sighs through his nose, "you are still here."

"I cannot leave her."

Erryk turns to Arryk, "then you are just as foolish as I."

"I-" Arryk starts. He cannot look away from you, "... I am sworn to her."

"She is beautiful," Erryk says.

Arryk finally tears his gaze only to shoot his brother a warning look, but Erryk's eyes are back on you.

"She wove flowers into my hair mere hours ago," he knits his brows, "she laughed and beamed and glimmered," Erryk sighs, "now she crumbles and weeps and hurts."

Arryk knits his brows, just as deep as his twin's.

You wipe your tears as you soothe yourself. You voice goes low again as you continue to pray.

"I am not a fool," Arryk says

Erryk laughs dryly, turning to him, "very well. If y-"

"I know she is beautiful," Arryk cuts him off.

His lips flatten.

Arryk gulps, "outside and within."

"As I said," Erryk replies, "just as foolish."

"I do not understand what could posses someone to hurt such a creature."

"Perhaps there is no soul to posses."

Arryk shakes your head, "you cannot allow your anger to get ahead of yourself, fool. You are glad the prince did not notice."

"The prince is too caught up in himself to notice anything that does not directly a..." Erryk's words go dry.

Arryk knits his brows, finding his twin was staring at something behind him. He looks over, stiffening when he catches the very person they were speaking of walking over.

Daemon makes a beeline towards you. He stops just behind you, lips and brows tense at the sound of your evidently upset voice. "Should you be doing this?"

You perk at the sound of the voice and look over your shoulder. You stare at Daemon, unsure if you were imagining him or if he was really there. You find that you don't really care, "will you pray with me?"

He does not like that you do not answer his question. He shifts on his spot, "did you faint or fall out of breath?

You turn back to the candles, "you must not be real."

"What?"

"I do not think my husband would care," you mutter, clasping your hands together in prayer.

Daemon does not move.

"You would pray with me then," you add, "you are kind."

The prince's face contorts. He feels like he is choking. He comes to your side, slowly dropping to his knees. He clasps his hands together, propping his elbows in front of him. He is taken aback by how you rest your head on his shoulder with no hesitation. He stiffens and a part of his mind screams to shove you away. He does nothing of the sort however.

"I tire," you admit.

"Then we sh-"

"Tell him to grant me my prayer."

Daemon slowly turns his head to look at you. He sees the way the tears trickle down from the bridge of your nose, "tell who?"

"The Stranger."

Daemon turns to the statue of the Mother. He wants to be difficult and tell you to simply move to the other statue, but instead he asks, "what is your request?"

"Death."

He turns back to you, expecting you to name a name. You do not, so he asks again, "your father?"

Your brows furrow, "no."

He turns to his hands. An unnamable emotion seizes him, "so... your husband?"

You finally lift your head. You turn to him, a deep frown on your face, "I do not wish you harm, Daemon."

He turns to you.

New tears burn down your cheeks.

A new unnamable emotion seizes him at the sight of your wobbling lips.

The twins find themselves looking away when the prince wipes your cheek.

You lean into his touch, "I have prayed for the same thing every night since I was ten."

Daemon's forehead curls, "what do you pray for?"

"To die."

The hand he had on your face tenses.

"It is pointless," you push his hand away, retreating from his touch, "my pain does not subside. My heart and flesh grow weaker each day."

Daemon is uneasy as you turn back to the Mother. He shakes his head, "I do not think the gods listen to such sinful prayers."

"Sin?" you chuckle under your breath.

Somehow your laughter sounds sadder than your weeping.

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision.

The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

You stare at his outstretched palm, then look up at him as he stands. You are loathe to move. You do not think you can, even if you wanted to, "I tire."

He leans over, draping your arm around his shoulders, "I'll bring you to bed."

You say nothing as Daemon pulls you in and carries you in his arms.

For the final time tonight, another unnamable emotions seizes him. It only further intensifies when you rest your head in the crook of his neck.

[pico-farad]

I finished season 1 of Vrains and it was cool but I thought it needed about 2 billion more secret identity shenanigans

More Secret Identities AU

extended thoughts below

So I went into a deep dive in my last two posts (1, 2) about all the problems I had with Vrains, and you'd think I didn't enjoy it, but in fact as I was watching, there was a separate, parallel version of Vrains that was playing in my head, a Yugioh I think we were robbed of and which fixes every problem I had with the first season, and that is Secret Identities AU.

Yusaku needs FRIENDS

This is YUGIOH.

This dynamic is everything I wanted from Vrains. Yusaku developing unexpected fondness for these bozos who think he needs a defense squad. I want Miraculous Ladybug levels of secret identity shenanigans. I want Yusaku slapping his duel disk every time Ai tries to blow their cover.

This AU sprung forth from the scene in the duel club where he shows Naoki his decoy deck. Having Yusaku passing as a bad duelist is 1) so funny, but 2) Yusaku needing to maintain his low profile is a useful contrivance for other characters to get more duels, and 3) I think it would be a really fun one-off episode where Yusaku has to duel using his bad deck. When he wins, Naoki is so proud he cries.

Having Yusaku actually have to interact with the other characters in the real world opens up Greek play levels of dramatic irony. The crux of a secret identity story is that every single interaction builds up anticipation, because you the viewer know that the other party is being deceived, and that the tension will snap when the secret is revealed.

I have zero anticipation about Playmaker's identity being revealed, because Aoi would be like "oh.... I guess he goes to my school" and Go would be like "have I seen that guy before?" But SIAU Playmaker? My guy is making friends just so he can betray them. Insane.

Go needs A ROLE IN THE STORY.

I said in my first post that Go isn't a rival or a best friend character. SIAU fixes this by making him both simultaneously.

Having him be the ace of the duel club is a natural replacement for his whole hero of the orphans schtick, while placing him directly the circle of relevance with the other characters. Instead of being disgruntled that the orphans suddenly like Playmaker more than him, he's disgruntled that Naoki and the duel club mooks are fawning over Playmaker -- which is actually just Naoki's character anyway.

I would kill for a big dramatic moment where Go learns that Playmaker and Yusaku are the same person, and even though Go feels betrayed that Yusaku has been deceiving him, he stands by Yusaku anyway because they're friends.

With a secret identity story, every conversation is working on multiple levels because each character is working with asymmetric information. You get these fascinating, layered scenes of two characters talking past each other because they cannot give up their secret.

Which would go especially hard with Go and Yusaku, because Go has legitimate criticisms of Playmaker in canon and Yusaku has legitimate reasoning behind the things he does, and as Go Onizuka and Playmaker they could never come to an understanding on them, but as Go and Yusaku, two friends in duel club, that door becomes open to them.

Aoi needs WRITING THAT ISN'T A TRAINWRECK

I made a whole post on this. Basically every problem would be solved if Akira doesn't know that she's Blue Angel. There's no reason for her to lose grotesquely against Yusaku, or have her basic autonomy called into question constantly. 

Having her actively deceive her brother is delicious. Like I said in my last post, it's so obvious how Akira's overprotectiveness has taken its toll on Aoi, and pushed her into developing this other persona, Blue Angel. I want this absolutely dysfunctional sibling relationship so badly. The Blue Angel vs. Zaizen duel would make me lose my mind.

And a secret identities setting works so well with the potential themes of VRAINS as a stand-in for the internet and Blue Angel as an idol. Give me that Perfect Blue Satoshi Kon good stuff. Give me those themes about identity, and the different lives we live, outward and inward, online and offline.

This also helps Akira's character, because I think he would be much more interesting and relevantly positioned in the story if he stayed a SOL Technologies baddie. SOL Technologies has very little presence in season 1 despite being critical to the story. After Zaizen is replaced by an irrelevant clown, they don't do anything but send out mook AIs to get destroyed. By having a three-way standoff between Yusaku's squad, the Knights of Hanoi, and SOL Technologies, both Hanoi and SOL Technologies become more compelling. They've both got all the reason in the world to want to take down the other. Zaizen vs. Revolver or Spectre? That's good shit.

And don't get me started on how I would turn Revolver into a Secret Identities character.

[lace4forest]

The Chains Ages in Linked Universe.

I saw people talking about the Chains age in Linked Universe, and I have my thoughts on them.

I've done a LOT of research on the Links and how old they were, I even tried to figure out how long Legend was in Koholint for. (We go with old Canon because new Canon doesn't make since,(Footnote 1) but basically that's the last time we see Legend in normal Zelda Canon)

Anyways-

This is from Jojo's QnA doc on the Linked Universe Discord- ^^^

And this is my thoughts on their ages. Side note, I'm not going off of looking up their ages through google, I'm going off info you can find in game and cross referencing it with other games and the Hyrule Historia and Encyclopedia. Time was 9 in his game and that's about 20 years later so he would be 29. (Unless if we counting Majora's Mask, then he could be 30-32)

Twilight was a "Late Teen" (Also it does state hold old he is) so 17 making him 21 to 22.

Warriors is also "Late Teen" (He was a trainee at the beginning of the war) making him 22 to 26

Sky is also stated to be around 17 making him 18 to 19

Wild is 117 and this would make him either almost 118 or just turned 118.

Legend just became "Of age" in ALBW and that's 16 in his era making 17.

Hyrule we know is 16 making him 18.

Four is 15 or 16 in Four Sword, but he isn't "Of age" so probably 15. making him 17.

And we know Wind is 13 almost 14. (He said it himself)

I just find it very funny the Toons are the youngests. Age explanation and footnotes below cut.

Time - He is 9 at the beginning of his game and becomes an "Adult" 7 years later at 16. This is one of the times it proves that 16 is "Of age" in the Zelda series. We aren't sure how much time has passed between Oot and MM, so we can guess he's 29 to 32 (Making Link in MM 10 to 12 as a good guess.)

Twilight - It's stated in a guide that he is 17. His game also was originally supposed to be a continuation of Oot and MM in the Wind Waker style, with Time all grown up and living on his own. But they changed it to what it is now. So it's just 17+4 or 5 making him 21 to 22.

Warriors - There is no official age and you do NOT need to be 17 to wield the master sword. All we know is that he's "Late Teens" making him between 16 to 19. Making his age in LU between 22 to 26.

Sky - He is stated to be around 17. Making him 18 or 19 (Even if we say he's 16, then he would be 17 to 19.)

Wild - he is 117 years old. We know this. it's been "Less than a year" so he could be almost 118 or already be 118, he probably doesn't remember his Birthday, so there is no saying exactly. (His Zelda should know though. Maybe.)

Legend - SO. I feel like people are gonna fight me on this, but I got the math and hours of research to back it. At the beginning of ALTTP, some guards say that Link shouldn't be out here or that he's too young to wield a sword (Or even start learning to) In BOTW Wild got the Master Sword at 12-13. And people said he was still very young and a prodigy, which means he was already learning the sword by that time. and we also know that in BOTW they think of "Of Age" as 17 instead of 16, meaning they probably make them learn stuff when they are a little older. There's also the connection to Oot, In Wind Waker its stated that Wind is the same age as Time when he Defeated Ganon (Making Wind Canonically 16) And Twilight is the age of what Time should have been when he decided to settle down, making him 17, which leaves us with Legend's age. Most likely taking Times age from the beginning of his game. LONG STORY SHORT- In ALTTP Link is between 9 to 10. NOW. The Oracle games, Link is still a CHILD, so before "Of Age" (Aka less than 16) A LOT of people call him a CHILD and wonder why he has a sword! making him most likely around 11 or 12. Same things with Link's Awakening. (FOOTNOTE 1). Then we have ALBW. Link has a job now and is learning to become a smith. so most likely after his return home, as well as he needs to learn this stuff before becoming a full adult, but then again he lives alone, so we could accurately say 15 to 16. SO LONGER STORY SHORT. We can say 16 and be GENEROUS. Making Legend 17 in LU (but probably closer to 16).

Hyrule - It's literally a plot in his game he is 16, making him 18 in LU.

Four - He is a Child in Minish Cap (So less than 16) and same with Four Swords. He has to be older than 12 because he was given a sword willingly. So between 13 to 15, but we can be nice and say 15 in Four Swords, making him 17 in LU.

Wind -

I do want to say, it's literally stated in his game he is the same age as Time when he KILLED Ganon as an ADULT. It's just the art style of the game.... He JUST turned 16, so people are still calling him a child. (Like how people call 18 year olds children in rl) But also he does look 12 in game... ART STYLE WHYYYYYY (also thats what Twi was supposed to look like lmaoooo)

---

FOOTNOTE 1 - The Encylapedia has wrong information that's easy to disprove and I want to throw it out a window. It also switched the order of the Oracle games and Link's Awakening, even though Oracle of Ages LITERALLY ENDS With Link taking the boat out to sea to head home, and LITERALLY Transitions to Link's Awakenings Opening. ITS THE SAME BOAT. I'm Gonna Cry- NINTENDO WHYYYYY.

[mochinomnoms]

hrng… trey birthday fic…

I’m not gonna lie, for awhile, I didn’t really like trey. i didn’t dislike him, mind you, but he was just kind of there. but all of a sudden, my brain was just thinkin about trey. like i’m just chillin at home, and i’m just thinking about trey. he’s just so…

and then you posted the birthday fic and godDAMN

Mochi, you are a genius. I am a buff trey truther. mans would have hella arm muscle and I will not accept any less. sorry i just keep thinking about trey now. he would have the biggest breeding kink its not even funny

anyhow, if you have more trey I would LOVE to read it especially if it’s about him being a pervert

i’m so normal i promise

as always, have a wonderful day ^^

-🦷

AAAAAA TY!!! I'm so glad that you're seeing the appeal for Trey he really is an underrated character!! I got that eldest daughter syndrome and Trey as a character feeds into that ngl.

I also had a crush on Peeta from The Hunger Games when I was a kid and I was remembering a bit where it was pointed out that as a baker, Peeta was actually hella strong (he could toss 100 lbs flour bags over his shoulder), so it would only make sense to me that Trey would be similar.

I image he would have a bit more of a sleeper build, so it's not obvious how strong he is until he's actually doing something physical (like fucking me—). None of the sprites do him justice in that regard, but this very specific panel from the manga does do things to me:

aaaaaaaaa big strong arms to hold you in~

Trey is also kinda silly in the fact that he canonically is really bad at flirting, or at the every least being suave/romantic. Poor ghost bride, getting her eyes compared to grapes...

He did say that it was cause he was put on the spot, which is partially true. I like to think that he's the type to just say something flirty or romantic without meaning to.

Think of an old married couple where one of them will casually drop a compliment like it's the most natural thing in the world. That's how Trey is, and he doesn't even realize it! It's very sweet, and it's very easy to fall for of course!

I, of course, have other thots as well tehehe~

He absolutely has the biggest breeding kink (no this isn't just copy and pasting my own kinks into my favs, wat you talking about?). He grew up with a happy family, and had a bit of a taste of what parenthood is like while taking care of his siblings.

He wants to replicate that for his own family, no doubt, but it's not exactly those reasons that he's so into breeding you. No, it's the, forgive him for the silly comparison, look of your hole absolutely stuffed like a éclair (which I've seen several people on here ask of him YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE).

The sight of you swollen, twitchy, and full hole is sooooosososososoooooo yummy, and he has the excuse that he has to make sure his seed will take to keep filling you! It's not until after when your belly is swelling with a baby that his pregnancy kink kicks in...but perhaps that's another discussion for another time.

My last thoughts for just this moment are that Trey maaaay have a slight bit of an oral fixation. He likes seeing your mouth on his dick, he likes to open your lips with his cum still resting on your tongue and running his fingers over your teeth, and he reeaaally likes to have you bite down on his neck and admire the teeth marks. Not enough to bleed, mind you, but enough that he could take a picture and then compare the marks to your actual teeth later on in fascination. It's only a little weird, indulge him won't you?

[solid-white]

Tf2 details that a lot of people get wrong PT 2:

[Previous post]

The Administrator INCLUDING miss Pauling often severaly underestimate the mercs intelligence and capabilities, so much so that Demoman and Soldier got away with being friends for months (or they hid it THAT well, I wouldn't put it past Soldier).

In the last post, a lot of people were saying that Demoman was over 30. I'd like to argue that Demoman is at least in his late 20s during the WAR! issue, though he was in his 30s during the gravel wars and later comics too. But let's agree to disagree before people get annoyed at me for getting a characters age wrong, let's say he's between 29-36.

I keep saying this and I'LL KEEP SAYING THIS! Scout KNOWS who his dad is, there's so much evidence, and he's WAY smarter then most people give him credit for. I made an analysis about the Meet The Scout video and the fact he took down almost HALF of the blu team means he's CRAZY strategic AND I'LL KEEP GLAZING THAT MF. HE IS CLEVER.

In the last post I said Engineer has green eyes. I was wrong about that, the image I used was a fan model. He's always wearing goggles so what his eyes look like are unknown. Though I've been told he doesn't have any eyes sculpted into his model, other people say they're blue.

Spy's character is what the fandom thinks Scout is like. He loves destruction, laughs whenever something wrong happens, and you'll see him smiling whenever something chaotic is going on. He's the original chaos gremlin and I want more depictions of him being like that.

I didn't know the term last post so I called Soldier racist (since he doesn't care who you are as long as you're American). It's called xenophobic, which I didn't know was a thing. So thanks for the correction.

Medic isn't as strong as people depict. He gets his ass beaten A LOT, both in game play AND in the comics. He likes to observe the battle happening then he does fighting. But he DOES have muscle, so he's just a weak fighter.

Miss Pauling would NOT cover for their asses if she found out the mercs were dating the other team. Even if she finds it cute, she's more loyal to her boss then to her mercs. Before someone argues about whatever Heavy and Medic have going on and why she hasn't figured it out yet (which is definitely canon theres no way its not), this correlates to the other fact about her underestimating the mercs.

Miss Pauling also isn't a lesbian, that was just a joke the creator made and even then, Jay Pinkerton said himself that would be too simple (which I agree with). But people only listened to the lesbian part and not the tweet above it. Don't get me wrong, lesbian Pauling is funny but don't treat it as canonical.

(Can you guys leave me alone about this one fact. Yes I understand interpretation is different. Yes the 7th comic came out. YES I GET IT. STOP YAPPING ABOUT ONLY THIS ONE WHEN THERE'S 8 OTHER FACTS. I JUST DO THIS FOR FUN)

[korkorali]

The Misogyny of It All

So a lot of Della Duck Discourse is rehashed all the time, points are made again and again, but one thing that I almost never see people defend -and conversely, see people attack all the time- is The Line.

You know what I'm talking about. The Line from Glomtales.

"Your plans, your schemes, they only lead to bad things for your family. If you want to be a part of this family, you've gotta stop."

That one.

Now, what exactly Della was trying to get across with that line is a whole other can of worms that deserves its own post (basically she -and also the writers- horribly failed her Speech check).

What we're going over here is how that mimics a certain line from the last season, said by a parental figure to a child, that gets so much less flack. That, in fact, often gets paraded around as 'an interesting twist on a character.'

"You are not family!"

I have never seen people attack this line with the same amount of vitriol as they attack Della's, which is funny when they're the exact same line.

Actually, not even that- Scrooge's is worse.

It's more direct, it's literally yelled at Webby, it doesn't even attempt to address the issue Scrooge had (Webby blaming him for what happened to Della) and instead just straight-up attacks her as a person.

Now, to be fully honest- I like this line! I do genuinely think it's an interesting route for Scrooge to take, and is quite realistic to the grumpy old bastard. It's just funny that nobody ever comes to Webby's defense the same way they do for Louie.

Because the thing is- between Webby and Louie, one of these two has genuine, canonical issues with feeling like they're not a part of the family, like they're an outsider amongst those they love the most, like they don't belong.

And it's not Louie.

It is a consistent part of Webby's characterization that she feels like she doesn't belong. This gets touched on in all three seasons (and honestly, it could be argued that it gets worse after this moment).

Conversely, that just is not a part of Louie's canonical characterization. Even in the first episode of season 2, the one where Louie gets the closest to an 'I don't belong in this family' moment, it's less 'I don't belong here' and more 'fuck me I am terrible at adventuring'. And! It gets resolved in that episode!

(Of course, there is absolutely something to be said for how it's resolved- specifically by Scrooge encouraging him to be a scheming little bastard, which then thusly becomes the thing that threatens his family the most. Which would, logically, be a pretty big blow to his self-esteem. This isn't what I'm here to discuss right now but it is genuinely interesting.)

Louie never really shows an issue with feeling like he doesn't belong in his family. He shows a disconnect with his family at times, but in canon that never really evolves into a full-blown feeling of displacement. It does get close in Glomtales, but never quite reaches it.

So it's 'interesting' (read: not interesting) that Scrooge's fuckup here gets brushed away pretty easily. A lot of the time the line just straight-up isn't addressed, and when it is, often times it's about how "Oh he apologized to Webby offscreen, obviously."

Which.

Not he did not.

I mean, let me be clear: I don't mind it when that's the answer. It works for me to just brush it away if it's not meant to be the focus...

But Scrooge almost certainly didn't apologize for it.

As 'New Gods on the Block!' Showed us, Scrooge is downright awful at realizing when his actions have hurt people.

More likely than not, Scrooge would just assume that everything is fine and would avoid bringing it up at all costs because he'd feel awkward about it. Because he is, very importantly, not good at talking about things he doesn't want to talk about.

So why is it that Louie is always the one feeling like he doesn't belong? Why is it Della who is always a terrible parent for what she's said? Why are Webby's feelings of disconnect never really given the same gravity as Louie's? Why is Scrooge's blunder let off the hook super easily?

It just feels silly to me.

And, well.

Kinda like the fact that, since Scrooge is a guy and Webby's a girl, and Della is a woman and Louie's a boy, has something to do with it.

I'll happily give the benefit of the doubt and assume it's not deliberate, but quite frankly it is a double standard.

I think that people would be less upset with the Della Duck Discourse if Scrooge was held in a similarly critical position over what he's said and done. If it was acknowledged that Della isn't uniquely awful in what she says and does, and that a lot of the others have fucked up in extremely similar ways.

(I mean for fuck's sake, everybody goes on and on about how Della left her kids for ten years -which, for the record, wasn't what she wanted to do- but nobody ever criticizes Donald for taking the kids away from their family and never talking to them about Della- which is something he actively and deliberately chose to do)

TL;DR: The fact that Della gets intensely criticized for what she's said and done, but Donald and Scrooge are conversely celebrated as 'interesting' and 'complex' for what they've said and done, even when it brings harm to the kids, is a blatant double-standard. And if you don't think that this double-standard is bad or wrong for existing (or even that it Doesn't Actually Exist), instead of immediately claiming that it's a non-issue, maybe try to look inward and figure out why you really think that is.

[crimsonender]

Mikaila Orchard sucks at Paneling

I debated making this a video or not. But, I decided against it. If you guys are interested in me making videos about this sort of thing, let me know and perhaps it's something I could cover in the future.

So Mikaila Turkleson aka Mikaila Orchard has always made... questionable art. To me it seems like a weird amalgamation of Equestria Girls and Sophie Labelle's art. Anatomy bad character design bad etc etc. I don't however see a lot of people talk about her paneling.

Recently, Mikaila and presumably her partner, Lily Orchard started a new art endeavour. I assume to turn over a new leaf and bury the now-infamous Pokemadhouse. You can find it over at bhaalspawnfunnies. It appears as if the blog will focus around the player character of Baldur's Gate 1, Gorion's Ward, and their half sister, Imoen. This is the first entry.

Source

Where to start? My first impression is that this is very poorly drawn, and low effort even by Mikaila's standards. The speech bubbles are low contrast against the background. The ground/floor blurry blob looks extremely bad. As a fellow artist I get the distinct impression that Mikaila did not want to draw this piece.

Moreover, there's a huge issue with the panelling and pacing. Comics are really cool in that you can kind of use panelling and negative space to "time" jokes, leading the eye where you want it to go and using framing and other art tricks to make a punchline land a little better.

This "comic" has none of that. There is no pacing, there is no comedic timing. It's all bland and presented as a block. I took it upon myself to re-panel this piece, and I've made two versions: One, with Mikaila's art style and visuals, but with the panelling slightly adjusted to be more punchy and effective, the other I completely redrew, using the same joke.

Excuse the sloppiness. I'm not going to expend too much energy polishing and gilding this turd.

That being said, this is already a huge improvement. Even if Mikaila isn't at the technical level of a professional artist, this is very attainable with only a few more minutes of effort. The timing is punchier, the speech bubbles draw your eyes down the page, and even without colour coding, it's clear which of the characters is talking. This isn't exactly a hot take but in my opinion you shouldn't need colour coding on a comic page to denote who is speaking. It should be very obvious! Moreover, speech bubbles should be included in the composition, not added as an after thought.

I'm guessing the original comic took her less than an hour to make. I think I'm being generous here, honestly if this took her more than twenty minutes I would be concerned. Being generous though I gave myself one hour to make a version completely redrawn.

This was again, very quickly put together and of course is in no way perfect, but its to demonstrate what a little bit of thought can do to improve a comic page. I decided to change the pose of Gorion because making family guy references should be a a cardinal sin for artists, as well as make the characters a little more recognizable. "Aryana" is, notably, Lily's OC and bears little resemblance to the canon character of Gorion's Ward, but considering Baldurs Gate does allow character customization and dialogue choices, I decided to make their gender a little more ambiguous so players of any gender could see their version of Gorion's Ward in the comic, but kept the elf with long dark hair appearance from Mikaila's original. I also looked over the pic after I was all done and ready to upload and noticed some small flaws I could easily fix, and went back and did those things. You should always go over your pieces when you're finished them with fresh eyes before you submit them as a final piece.

Again, this certainly isn't perfect and I'd probably put more effort into a piece with characters I care about and a joke I actually find funny, but I hope this demonstrates that pacing and expression really are everything in comics.