#truly hating or abandoning them and that even should they be forced to exist and endure in the doomed world that the villain and their love

[cvlutos]

“My Wingless Dove”

| Repost: 02.19.2023 | 1.2K | Mature Audiences |

Yandere!Diasomnia X GN!Reader [TWST: VAMPIRE AU]

Dark Content | Characters 18+ | Stalking | Kidnapping | Yandere | Blood | Forced Feeding | Implied Abuse/Violence | Etc | Proceed with Caution, Dearest.

Book.Summary: Dont walk into abandoned homes, even if the weather is bad, for there may be vampires living there that just love humans.

You’re pretty.

You’re pretty.

So pretty that it worries us to death when you come barreling into our home, fumbling through the door with heaving breaths, pounding heart, and rushing veins, so loud and so full of life. You kick the door closed desperately, blindly throwing yourself deep into the dark and what you assume—abandoned—home.

You’re far too pretty to live in such fear.

You make a home for yourself, using the old dusty library as yours, what we wish would be your forever home. Using broken floorboards as wood. Though you aren’t fully aware of our presence, that’s alright. You don’t need to worry about the peering, deep reddish-magenta glowing eyes that watch you from afar. Eyes that you swear you see as you prepare your dinner. Or as you sleep, gentle touches of flesh brush against the apple of your cheeks, or the exposed chest of your collarbone.

Don’t worry about the glaring eyes that watch you from afar as you search the forest for your food, silently protecting you. Do not worry when you see green eyes and that of a tall silhouette watching you from the far corners, only for you to blink and it’s gone. You’re pretty. They only want to admire you.

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The deep red eyes are first to greet you.

First to catch your attention. First to frighten you. Even if he doesn’t mean to., you’re just too cute, such a sweet, defenseless person, living amongst four beings that are far stronger, faster, hungrier. Far more than you could ever be. You’re fascinating and he lets you know of his existence. He wants you to know he’s around, devoted to you, as he is the prince.

You have dreams of a soft, monotone voice.

Hearing him whisper to you to sleep well, to have pleasant dreams. He is the one you should trust most, the one who understands you the most. Even though mortality is so from him. That’s alright, you are simply a glimpse of what he once was, and he adores you for that. You represent that part of him that was once human.

The glare from afar still scorns you.

He makes you feel unwanted, unneeded, foreign—an intruder. Well, in a way, you are. You stumble into their home, into the home of the prince, and make it your little hovel. He’s annoyed, disgusted, for you represent the side of him that will always be human. That will never change. He hates that about you, yet he can’t find it in his unbeating heart to allow any harm to come to you. Maybe he isn’t as detached from humanity as he claims.

The tall silhouette that scares you still.

He wishes you didn’t fear him. He wishes you’d simply waltz into his arms, sway gently against him and with him. He craves for you to step into the shadow to see him and acknowledge him for being safe, to see that he wouldn't harm you. He cares for you as a lover would. Even if you don’t love him yet, you will. Eventually, you will. As all things take time and you, darling, will have all the time in the world.

══════ ♡ ══════

“If I could simply stop time in this moment—without having to change not a single part of you—I truly wish I could.”

His words are merely wind to air as you sleep, blissful and unaware. You are as if the sun had been given for him to hold and cherish, a blessing, a gift. So strong, yet so destructive. So painful for he knows if he touches you, he melts. Burns. He’s alright with that.

You had in passing, talking to the ancient pictures on the walls of your soon departure. Something that Malleus can't bear to stand. You can’t go free of them. Of him. Not now. Nor ever. For he knows like a flower that only blooms once within its lifetime, would soon disappear. He refuses. You will be there for his lifetime, all his lifetimes. He wants nothing more.

“My Prince... what is it you desire?”

You.

The answer is you.

You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You.

It will always be you.

You spilled your blood today as you explored the vast forests. Bring them each nearly to their knees, salivating desperately. Like a flavor that they knew not of, yet still yearned for centuries. Surely, you’d indulge them. Silver gently lowers your form onto the massive bed, treating you so delicately, like glass.

You should feel so loved. So wanted. Even when you awaken and you thrash against Sebek’s tight embrace, cursing him—begging him to release you, pleading with him to let you go. As Lilia forces your mouth open to feed you, as you kick and scream.

You will come to understand our love.

As Silver nearly suffocated you in his chest, rocking you slowly as Malleus reads fairytale stories to you.

You’ll get over how cruel I am. As I read, you tales of freedom, or escape, of adventures, that you could never go on.

“You’ll understand why I did what I did, my little wingless dove.”

ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.

[danikamariewrites]

My North Star

Cassian x reader

Summary: You and your siblings represent the eight points of your father, King Astraeus’, brightest star. After his death your seven siblings have come to the decision to banish you since you don’t agree with their way to rule. Sending you across space and time you end up landing in the Illyrian Mountains.

Warnings: violence, angst, fluff, and very long

A/n: based on this request

PART 2

They had you dress in your armor. Had you strap your sword to your back. All to get rid of you. In your twenty-five years of life never once had you been a nuisance to your siblings. Being the youngest made you unseen and you had handled it with grace.

Never had you defied your father or the woman you are forced to call mother. Never once had you gotten in their way of ascending the throne.

Your siblings were all in agreement on how they wanted to rule. And who would question gods?

You are young, you’ll learn is something you always heard from the seven of them. But you didn’t want to learn. You wanted to change things. Make the world a better place for the people you ruled over.

Clearly, your older siblings did not like that idea. You wouldn’t be standing here with a portal to gods knew where at your back as they all looked down at you from the dias in the throne room. Guards surrounding you with their weapons drawn.

“I have been nothing but compliant all my life. Learning to live in your shadows as father favored all of you, never paying attention to me. You were all I had. And now you’re abandoning me because what? I won’t agree to Castor’s ruling?”

Your eldest brother sighed, looking bored as he spread out on the throne. The sight made you sick. He was lazy, arrogant, and cruel. He is the last person in existence who should be king. “What’s done is done little sister. I can’t have descent among the ranks. Our brothers and sisters are in agreement with me.”

Tears stream down your face as you realize what Castor was truly mad about. Were you truly being punished for something you had no control over? "That's not why you're getting rid of me, is it? You hate that I'm more powerful. If I'm still around our people will question your rule when they see me." Castor pounded his fist against the arm of the throne. He stood so abruptly the throne almost toppled over.

Guards and courtiers and even a few of your siblings were confused at the reaction you drew from him. Castor points a finger at you, the rage simmering on his face threatening to boil over. “You have no right to speak to me that way!” He stomps down the dias stopping at the line of guards keeping you from your family.

Castor takes a deep breath in an attempt to calm his temper. It’s too late though. He’s already ruined himself for the people who are supposed to show him blind loyalty. “You will hand over your sword before you go.” He said plainly. “No.” You say firmly, standing straighter, ready to defend yourself. If you were going to take something with you it would be the silver and pearl sword at your back. You forged it when you were fifteen before your first battle to match the bright silver armor you were wearing now. Like hell you’d give that up. It was imbued with your power. Castor would melt it down for its core and the beautiful thing you’d created would be gone.

The guards looked conflicted as Castor waved his hand for them to stand in attack position. You discreetly step back two paces, trying to get as closer to the portal before they strike. It was shrinking as Castor wasted time. You realize that you’d have to jump soon or die here.

“Give it here, little sister.” He holds out his hand, impatience running low. You shake your head vehemently. You take two more steps back. The cold breeze from the portal sending chills through the open spots in your armor. “No Castor.” You say trying to keep the shakiness from your voice. “You want me gone? Then all of me is going.”

The room around you fades. Closing the distance between you and the unknown, you leap before anyone can grab you. There’s a moment where you’re suspended in mid air. A light feeling taking over your body. Like you weigh nothing. Looking back you find the chaos of the throne room frozen. Castor lunging to grab any part of you he can reach. Guards mid-swing to strike you down.

You don’t have a chance to fully take in the scene before you're falling. There's just darkness as you tumble through time and space. You feel a pull in your stomach. It's unbearable. Your bones feel like they’re compressing. Before it gets worse the pain vanishes as you keep falling. And falling. And falling.

It felt like you were falling for hours. Days. Years. All sense of time and direction was gone. Left was up and Down was right. Tears from your eyes spilled upward, floating away from your face. You didn't know if it was from the wind whistling past or your fear of the unknown.

When you could finally see again you started slowing down. As if the universe was deciding where to put you. Taunting you with what could be.

Different worlds in all different periods of time flew by. Major cities that looked old and new. Gleaming towers touching the sky, people with and with out wings flying through the air. Lush green worlds with castles, some with odd architecture that seemed millennia away built into the land, others with flying ships coming and going. Worlds made entirely of water with structures just above the restless surface.

But the universe didn't stop at any of these places. If you could choose you don't know which world you would pick. You'd love to explore all of them if you could.

Time slowed again, bringing you to another world. The final one it seems. A glittering night sky came into view until it was the only thing you saw. Snow capped mountains appeared to get closer, the air chilly with a roaring wind.

Gasping, you realized this is where you were being dropped. The universe picked a world and it was this gorgeous, endless night. At least you'd have the stars. Maybe there would be new constellations for you to discover.

You tried to control the rest of your fall. Summoning your power, your hands eminated that familiar shimmering white glow. You could use the propulsion of the 'star beams'—you and your sister Vesper lovingly called them—to slow down. The light flickered like you couldn't fully connect to it. Your heart pounded hoping it was just a one-time thing.

It was not.

In fact your light seemed to dim every few hundred feet. You felt an odd buzzing rush through your body at what seemed like the five hundered feet mark. By three hundred feet your power fully flickered out on you.

Holding in your scream you braced for impact. You silently prayed the snow was deep enough to cushion you. Feeling the ground rush up at you, you screwed your eyes shut, not wanting to watch.

The snow was no help at all. You hit the hard, cold earth hard. You rolled over onto your back taking in deep breaths to help dispel the pain running rampant through your bones. To distract yourself from your shaking body you focus on the night sky.

The stars seemed so familiar but new. Even though your current situation sucked a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. You have a new night sky to discover. A new north star to navigate the land with.

Sitting up you move and crack your joints to get feeling back in your body. Now that your bones have stopped shaking you stand, stretching again.

You look around the mountain region and spot what you hope is a village in the distance. Lanters and fire light told you that the residents were still awake. Hope flared in your heart. Maybe this mountain village would be your new home. A smiple life but it would be yours and no one would try to control you.

——

Rhys felt the breach in the wards an hour ago. With every minute he wasted winnowing to Windhaven, telling Devlon, and tracking down Cassian and Azriel he was on edge. Anyone could have broken through. And that anyone could have any kind of power with a grudge or looking to destroy a city.

While waiting the High Lord donned his fighting leathers, strapping his sword to his back. His brothers came rushing up to him as he pulled the leather srap through it's buckle.

"Devlon sure took his time getting you two. Did he tell you about the wards?" Rhys asked, tension in his voice from the concern for his court. The pair shook their heads givinging their brother a worried look. “An hour ago the wards were breached. Whoever it was is up here in the mountains so they have a ways to go before the city. I want this done quietly so we don’t cause panic, ready?”

“Let’s go.” Cassian said, checking the glowing ruby siphons on the back of his hands. The three brothers spread their wings, taking off into the night sky.

——

Cutting your way through the forest the trees finally thinned out. You must be getting close to that village. Taking a pause, you lean against one of the thick tree trunks to stretch out your back. Your body still feels tight and achey from the fall. Gods, you’d kill to have a hot bath right now.

Letting go of the rough bark you wiped your hands together to get rid of the dirt. Continuing your trek up the steep mountain the sound of beating wings above you making you freeze. Not knowing what is attached to said wings you find it in your best interest to hide. And you better hide fast because they sound like they’re slowing down.

Running on silent feet you backtrack a few feet to the left to hide behind one of the larger trees. The sound of someone whooshing through the branches and landing, shaking your surroundings makes you hold your breath. Pressing your back to the tree trunk hard you will your powers to come back to you. That familiar light sensation in your body had noticeably dimmed.

If you had to fight you were terrified you’d have to rely on hand-to-hand combat or weapons. You weren’t at full strength, no way you could last.

Crunching footsteps got louder and louder as whoever was searching the woods drew closer. You had to make a decision and fast. Attack first or wait. The thing about waiting is that you can get too comfortable with your hiding spot. You let your guard down and someone surprises you.

Taking a chance you peek out from behind the tree. The thing with large membranous wings had his back to you. It looked like a male, male shaped at least. He could have a creature like face for all you knew. Something nasty and horrible or sharp teeth meant for ripping limbs from your body. You had never encountered anything like that on your home world but you always had a wild imagination.

Home world. What an odd thing to say.

The winged creature turned slightly, just enough so you could see his profile. Definitely not a sharp toothed monster. He seemed quite handsome actually. You wanted a closer look at him except every warning bell in your head was going off telling you to stay put.

His nostrils flared, sniffing the air. You quickly duck back behind the tree holding your breath once again.

A red blast shot through the tree just next to your head. You roll sideways, shooting to your feet. The male was closer now. Glowing red stones adorned his hands, shoulders, knees, and chest. They were pulsing with power as his face portrayed a warriors rage.

Holding your hands out at your sides, palms out, you willed your power back to you harder than you ever had in your entire life. To your relief, your hands glowed brighter than you had ever seen them. You felt the light in your whole being. It felt like it was emanating from your whole body.

The male looked frightened for a moment before snapping back into a battle stance. The dam you were keeping up on your rage at your family was breaking. If this male was looking for a fight you would give it to him. You bring your palm up to cover his chest in your line of sight.

A red shimmering shield absorbed some of the light, pushing the male backwards a few feet. Once the light died the rage on his face was clear. His teeth were bared at you and he let out a deep threatening growl. He started running at you drawing his sword.

You mimic his movements, bring the metal to clash in a loud ringing that shook your eardrums. It didn’t affect you as much as the male, who winced in pain. You didn’t hold back. You slashed and slashed and slashed. Hoping he’d fall soon.

You brought the male to his knees with a flash of your power and extra aggressive swing of your sword. Your blade sticks in his, creating a small notch. The surprise on his face changed to anger. He pushed back hard with a loud cry. You tried your hardest to dig the heels of your silver boots into the ground. The snow and frozen dirt making it impossible to find purchase.

He pushes you over a thick root causing you to lose balance. Calling to your power again you find it flickering out again. The white light dying as it reaches your finger tips. He notices and takes advantage. Elbowing you in the chest you fall the ground hard for the second time that night.

Before you can recover and fight back he dropped his knees down on either side of you, straddling your middle. Your instincts scream at you to start scratching and hitting him. But he acts like he’s being bothered by a fly as he bats your hands away. Catching your wrists in one hand he pins them above your head. You still struggle. You didn’t want to make it too easy.

Watching his face you noticed his eyes glaze over. His attention was on you, but it seemed like he was somewhere else. Taking advantage of the moment you attempt to knee him in the groin. He catches on to what you’re trying to do and moves to trap your legs tighter. You were now fully pinned under this hulking male.

There’s no way to get out of this. He’s far stronger and if you did break free he’d have no problem reaching out to pull you back. Or he could fly off with you. Then your chances at reaching the small mountain village would be zero. Your chances were looking pretty grim right now anyway.

As you stopped struggling and accepted your fate for right now. Adrenaline wearing off had the exhaustion of everything hit you. The bruises and stiffness from falling out of the sky. The ache in your chest from where the male elbowed you. Your arms were shaking from wielding g your sword. You are a certified mess.

Your vision began to go in and out. Between long blinks you saw two other figures standing over you. They were almost identical to the male on top of you. Almost. Even in your tired haze you could tell there was something unique about each of them. That they each held a special power. And then nothing.

——

You came to with a jolt. Feeling ropes tight around your wrists you started to panic. The door to the room you’re being held in opens with a bang. You wince and tuck your chin to your chest.

You had to get out. Escape somehow. You refuse to be locked away after escaping (well…being banished) from your own personal hell. How sad would it be if you traded your brother for another monster. Maybe you should’ve stayed. Continued being the silent, unquestioning sister and support Castor’s rule.

Looking up you see the three males from last night. You assumed everything happened last night since it was day time. You hoped it was last night.

The three look down at you with an odd curiosity. Like they’re dissecting you. You notice that glazed over look in all their eyes. As quickly as you noticed it their gazes refocus on you. The one in the middle who clearly carries himself like a leader steps forward.

“You’re a curious little silver thing. No one in the seven courts, or on the Continent for that matter, has claimed you to be their spy or warrior.” You raise an eyebrow at him, pursing your lips. Courts? The Continent? Just where exactly did you end up? The only positive you see right now is that the two of you can communicate. Hopefully you can clear things up and this male will believe your story.

You start to say something but the words get caught in your throat. Your mouth feels dry as you start to get anxious. What if they don’t believe how you got here? Would they just kill you? You had to stop catastrophizing. You’ll never talk if anxiety gets the better of you.

“I’m not from here. I had no idea where I was landing.” They all give you the same confused look. “From Prythian or another continent?” Ok, now’s your time to shine. Just drop that mind blowing piece of info on them and be done with it. “I’m from a different world.”

You bet if you knew them personally those expressions they are making would be priceless. The three males are completely dumbfounded. The one in the middle snaps back to his leader stance, something like curiosity and the knowledge of being right sparkling in his violet eyes.

“Please explain,” he said with a slight, confused smirk pulling at his lips. “Can I sit somewhere more comfortable? It’s a long story and I’m in so much pain.” You shouldn’t have mentioned the pain part but you are desperate for a cushy arm chair or a couch. A fluffy rug even. Anything but a rickety wooden chair and ropes that cut off your circulation.

He looks like he’s debating letting you. His hesitance makes you start your epic tale. “I was banished from my home, but it felt more like running before something bad happened.” The sincerity in your eyes makes up his mind. With a wave of his hand the ropes disappear.

Pushing yourself to stand you’re a bit wobbly. Now that you’ve rested you are starting to truly feel all the pain from last night. You should be fine in a day thanks to your accelerated healing. At least being part god from your father’s side was good for something.

The male who had been questioning you lightly grabbed your arms. Steadying, he leads you into a sitting room. Looking over your shoulder you see the room you were just in is no longer empty. The wooden chair was gone and bedroom furniture decorated the space. Curious. A place of magic then.

Stretching out on the large couch you let out a sigh. It feels good to be comfortable. The three males, still nameless to you, you realize, take up different seats around you. “I’m y/n, by the way.” “My name is Rhysand. You are already well aquatinted with Cassian,” Rhysand gestures towards the male with the red gems in his leathers, giving you a small two-fingered salute. “And this is Azriel.” He silently gives you a small nod in greeting, like you just entered their home and haven’t been their “prisoner” for the last twelve hours.

You tell Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian the story of your fathers passing, how you think your oldest brother murdered him, that he didn’t want you around anymore under the guise of not agreeing to his way of ruling. You did not give up the extent of your power. You still didn’t know if you could fully trust these three.

Rhysand then explained that you were now in the realm of the Fae. That there are seven courts in Prythian and fate had chosen the Night Court for you, the court he is High Lord of. You were blown away by the description of these courts. Wanting to explore them all.

After being told about his powers you let Rhysand into your mind. You wanted to establish trust and you knew how to fight off someone with telepathic powers. You could easily crush his mind if it came to that. Seeing that your story was true, and that you truly could not return home, Rhysand gave you a sympathetic look.

Days went by. The High Lord let you stay in his cabin until he thought of a permanent solution for you. The male you fought, Cassian, was staying with you. Not to watch you, Rhysand had reassured, to keep you company. It didn’t feel like it though. You still felt like you were tied to that rickety wooden chair.

Sitting around didn’t feel right to you. Learning there was a whole camp outside the cabin where a fighting style you had no idea about was being taught made you restless. You wanted to learn. Wanted Cassian to teach you.

You like talking with Cassian. During meals and at night before bed you would trade stories from childhood or fights you had been in. He was amazed you could fight so well and wielded so much power at twenty five years old.

Tension seemed to be growing between the two of you. Not bad tension. It was almost awkward. Like neither of you wanted to say the wrong thing. For the first time a male wasn’t speaking to you to climb a social ladder or to get to one of your family members. Cassian seemed truly interested in you, and you didn’t want to mess that up.

You couldn’t deny that he’s attractive. You have a craving for him. You want him to be yours. You want all of his attention. Plus he is everything you want in a male. Strong, good looking, a fighter, kind, and caring.

Over dinner that night you finally worked up the courage to ask Cassian if he would be willing to show you the camp and let you train. he had paused, thinking through his options. You didn’t know Illyrians, which scared him. Cassian would never forgive himself if anything happened to you. “I will ask Rhys if you can train. I’m sure that won’t be a problem.” Truthfully, he wanted you to stay in the safety of the cabin until your permeant solution was available. But he knew the reality of what you are. You’re a warrior, a fighter like him. And you would rather die than sit still.

Three days passed without an answer from Rhys. You had become impatient and irritated with Cassian’s answer each time you asked. “He hasn’t made his decision yet. But he will soon.” Soon. You were getting sick of that word. You could tell Cassian felt bad each time he didn’t give you the answer you wanted. He knows what it’s like to want to let the warrior out. To do your routine. To fight.

Making the decision for Rhys you dress in the fighting leathers Cassian had made for you. Adding your silver gauntlets to your arms and strapping your sword to your back. The leathers fit like a glove. Flexible and breathable. If only you could fully mix these with your armor. Then you’d have quite the battle suit.

You weren’t allowed to roam the village alone. Suspecting that was more Cassian than Rhys given the way residents of Windhaven were staring at you. Murmurs joined their curious looks. But you held your head high, keeping your pace calm as you look for the training rings.

None of them are Castor. He is not here. He cannot hurt you. You had been repeating those words to yourself more than you’d like to admit. Every night since you arrived in the Night Court sleep had been restless. Nightmares of Castor getting his hands on your sword or killing you or locking you up plagued you.

Cassian had been there, though. He sat with you, talked with you. One night, after a particularly horrible nightmare, Cassian sat with you on the couch letting you grip his hand. The two of you sat in silence for hours as his warm, rough hands grounded you.

He never asked questions. Never pushed you to talk about it. He let you take things at your own pace, which you were grateful for.

Your siblings or father or handmaidens never let you talk about things that bothered you. They all believed nightmares were silly things to dwell on. “Ignore it,” you had been told when all you wanted was comfort.

Clanging metal had you shaking the thoughts from your head. Especially the ones of Cassian. You find him in one of the training rings with his shirt off, sparring with another male that looks younger. The ring was surrounded by a group of males who all looked younger than him. You watch him spar, his muscles flexing and those wings move to help keep his balance.

Something you couldn’t get over was his tattoos. The black intricate swirls spanning his chest and arms left you breathless.

As Cassian blocked the males strike he struck the younger males abdomen with a fist, sending him sprawling in the dirt. As the male stands you find yourself in line at the edge of the ring. Cassian turns from the male to talk about everything his opponent had done wrong. He stopped short noticing you among the Illyrians. The rest of the group follows his gaze, those closest to you edging away. Cassian looks at you bewildered. Trying to tell you to go back to the cabin with his eyes.

“I got bored.” You say nonchalantly, giving him a small shrug. A male across the ring sneers at you. Good. You were looking to let off some steam.

Cassian opens his mouth to most likely tell you no until the male who sneered at you spoke up. “Since when did outside females get to join training?” He smirked, thinking he struck a nerve. You returned his smirk with your own. Taking a step over the chalk line. “If you want we can spar. Unless you’re afraid to lose to a female,” you taunt him. Anger flashed in his face before that cocky smirk returned.

“Fine,” he bites out, drawing his sword. From the corner of your eye you spot Cassian. He had a torn look on his face. Like he wanted to stop you but he couldn’t help but wonder what you looked like at full power. How truly unleashed you could get. Gods was he…turned on by this?

Yes. Yes, he absolutely is.

After this—he told himself—he would make his move. You were made for him. Literally fell from the sky for him. After that first fight Cassian knew he met his match.

Focusing back on the fight in front of you, you draw your sword. The pure silver blade and mother of pearl inlay gleaming in the afternoon sun. A collective gasp sounded from the group at the pure power of the blade.

The two of you face off in a ready stance. Cassian marks the start of the fight and you begin circling each other. He makes the first move, trying to rush you. You block, spinning out into a defensive stance to continue circling. This was taking too long. You wanted more action than this.

Spinning your sword you run feel speed, watching the cocky look melt from the bastards face. He rushes to block your slashes. Catching him off guard you knock the sword from his hand, sending it flying past the chalk line.

Something snapped in you. The male looked at you ready to brace the storm that brewed in your eyes. Driving your sword into the dirt you launch yourself at him. Landing a hard, unforgiving kick to his chest. Stumbling back a few steps he regains his balance, putting his fists up. You dodge each punch he throws at you.

After you counted six punches you could tell he was tiring himself out. Pathetic. When his fists were lowered you saw your opening. Throwing a right hook his jaw made a sickening crunch. Finally down on the ground you dropped all your weight onto your right knee, falling onto his ribs.

You couldn’t help but punch his face over and over and over and over again. You couldn’t stop seeing Castor’s smug face. That smiling, thinking he had won by getting rid of you. You didn’t stop until a dark power rumbled all around you. A deep, dark voice booming through the village.

“ENOUGH Y/N!” Rhysand was standing next to Cassian, who looked like he didn’t know what to do. His warm hazel eyes sparkling as he looked from your bloody fists to your wild face. Looking Rhysand dead in the eyes you land one more punch.

Shoving yourself off the male you stand at your full height. Rolling out your shoulders and neck. Letting the tension in your muscles fall away. Picking up your sword and walking out of the ring right up to the high lord the other Illyrian’s gave you weary looks. Worried that if they breathed wrong they would be on the ground and bloody next.

“I’m a god Rhys,” your tone cool and confident, “you don’t tell me to stop fighting.” As you walk back in the direction of the cabin you miss the look of Cassian is giving you. His hazel irises are practically in the shape of hearts as he watches you saunter off.

[lord-of-0blivion]

"How. Dare. You." Those three words resounded across the gathering of ghost with the force of a freight train and yet, the gentleness of a butterfly. The tone of said words quieted the crowd, but what truly brought everything to a grave like stillness was the emotion behind them. It was indescribable, it was oh, so... so much more then pure hate and, at the same time so much less then indifference.

"How dare you." They wrang out again. Followed by a "You finally piece it together and this is how you repay him?!"

"You plot and scheme against him as if he is not the sole reason why you even exist!" A tierd huff escaped the figure, now recognized as the master of time. "You wine and complain about the inaccuracies and errors in your history as if this is not how you have alaways been!" "Might I remind you that this all came from the mind of a DYING CHILD!" He gesture all around, to the infinite green void. "The fact that we have ANY correlation to the mortal world is a miracle and a testament."

"At the very moment of his death, Danny's mind recognized that, according to the laws of his world, his univers, he had no way to survive;" An intense glared was directed at the waste of ectoplasm gathered below him. "And, sensing his desire to Live, to not abandon the only three people who have shown him compassion, it does the only thing it can." A sigh escapes his lips "It creates a door, it makes a universe, a multiverse, infinite realities. It makes it out of all his hope, compassion, love and determination, sadness and despair... It gives birth to DEATH itself, just to beg it to keep him alive."

The crowd stills completely, as if suddenly turned to stone. "It is a testament to his willpower, knowledge and... his compassion." Another sigh rings out, filled with something between sorrow and and the burden given by knowledge. "Prior to his death, there... there were no afterlives, there was nothing awaiting but Oblivion, true death. And then he created all afterlifes, he created all of you."

A long pause soon followed, as if to allow Clockwork to catch his breath, but it was more to allow all the ghost beneath him to process the information.

And then he continued "In the very first moment of its birth, Death knew what it had to do... It took its very purpose and the very laws that should have binded it to said purpose and discarded them with no hesitation." Another pause. "Without a care for itself, and alongside Magic, who was born at the same time as the Realms, it set out to helps its father like any good child would do for a loving parent"

Not even allowing a word to escape the crowd, CW continues. "Would any of you even dare to THINK about striking your mothers or your fathers!?" Before they can even flinch Clockwork hammers the point in "Answers me this: Is there anyone among you who can say, with any amount of certainty, that Danny would even hesitate to... give up what little remains of his life, his existance! To save yours?"

Having made his point he turned his back to them. "Like any parent would do?" Not paying attention to the trembling and sobbing ghost, Clockwork, the master of time made to leave, but not before saying one last thing.

"From the highest peaks of Haven to the deepest VILEST pits of Hell, there exist no language in which I can express my disappointment and disgust in you. Have a good afterlife, and don't forget WHO you have to thank for it you vain children"

[This] post inspired this. @five-rivers Thanks.

[cruyuu]

I love that theory! I like to think yuji and Sukuna will coexist like Angel and Hana! Maybe yuji will become a fire fighter and summon Sukuna to help him from time to time

I unironically think the only way sukuna can be saved is if he loses.

Sorry for a late answer anon. My answer got lengthier considering 268.

Angel/Hana and Yuta/Rika coexist. If they can, why can't Sukuna/Yuuji? Especially considering now that we know killing one is killing the other, that they share practically everything and that– despite not being able to share memories (which is alright because to Yuuji people exist outside of that)– it still works for them.

They are an anomaly when it comes to what we know. Despite being polar opposites, literally "hating" each other, Yuuji and Sukuna had coexisted quite successfully. Unlike Hana/Angel, they do not worry nor warn each other over anything yet they still survive, and unlike Yuta/Rika, even if separated, they are still able to use each other's techniques (Sukuna can still go through other people's memories and talk with them which we know is Yuuji's thing and Yuuji can use Dismantle and is practically like Sukuna– his soul, and by extension Sukuna's, dwells in his fingers.)

They're still tied to each other totally and Yuuji had reached great heights despite the narrative telling us (with Maki/Mai) that twins never do so, unless one of them dies. Also, the whole Gojo and Geto thing, too. Basically opposites are meant to kill each other, never to coexist. Either one must live or they should both die. That is a curse. If Yuuji is to be the breaker of that, then he shouldn't kill off or consume Sukuna (because that would be literally Sukuna's route all over again), but instead coexist with him.

Also, Sukuna disappearing goes against Yuuji's own words. If humans aren't good or bad, and if Sukuna and Yuuji do not represent 'bad versus good', then them dying together, or one living instead of the other, falls flat. jjk never followed what is right or wrong so... Sukuna choosing to live might be a possibility. (Also... considering these two are technically tied together and that death of one is death of the other... maybe Sukuna is still alive.)

And– I almost forgot to mention– Kenjaku and Takaba died together. Considering we didn't get the dying together end with the main villain but rather a second villain, and the fact that these two are forced to coexist via a soul bond (basically), that again gives me hope that Sukuna isn't really, truly dead and that they might actually start anew right now, and not in another life.

The fact that Yuta/Rika's bond was shaken and that his fate is up to chance leaves a lot to imagination, however. As you know, Yuta's a direct parallel of Yuuji whose story got told before his (while Rika, as the Queen of Curses, parallels Sukuna, the King of Curses). He chose to embrace Rika, told us their love was pure, only for him to end up abandoning her in favor of wearing Gojo's body. That panel of her crying over him means that she didn't even realize that Yuta was in Gojo's body, and that because of that (Yuta not wearing the ring which is proof of their love and their coexistence), she believes that he truly died.

I believe what might happen (don't be surprised if it doesn't) is that Sukuna might get reincarnated into Rika, and by extension, wake up in Yuta's body. Call me crazy and delusional but it's a strong possibility. I know the majority will not like this (Yuta fans pls do not start) but it's there and it would be such a Gege thing to do.

Keep in mind that the finger Rika swallowed is apparently Yuuji's own but that could always turn out to be a lie. Still, a more probable explanation is the fact that Yuuji and Sukuna are technically one and the same and hence hurting Yuuji's soul equals to hurting Sukuna's own. By extension, if Yuuji is carrying but a tiny piece of Sukuna within him (the residual in his hands which instead of disappearing might've been eaten by Yuuji wink wink) , it would still be enough for him to awaken in his finger and overpower a curse.

Now, there's also the fact that Sukuna cannot reincarnate (via his finger) into cursed spirits. Rika, however, is no longer a cursed spirit, but merely a curse which Yuta embraces via putting the ring on his finger. The ending of jjk 0 had Gojo explaining that and we also get Yuta and human Rika parting ways.

So! Rika is left without Yuta's connection, Yuta is trapped in Gojo's body (or is just dead) while his own remains an empty husk, and Rika swallowed Yuuji's finger. Sukuna is dead. Or is he? Big plot twist! Sukuna reincarnates via Rika directly into Yuta's body.

If this ends up being true I'm going to laugh lmfao but it's the only open possibility outside of them dying right now and reincarnating later on (plus might be why the cheeky "whats going on with Yuta?" comment is there).

That song one anon pointed out to me (called Why Haven't I Fallen In Love Before?) has these lyrics:

Yes, to compensate for the time I wasn't in love Lately I've been doubly excited After all, it's such a happy love story This is no time for watching TV drama I should have realized sooner That romance is going to be the protagonist My heart is racing, fluttering, pounding…

The music video of this song got shot in the same place where Sukuna's finger is located at so we can assume that it is, by placement, his song.

If you check out the lyrics, it lowkey fits this ending lol. If anything, it's so sappy and romantic that it's making me tear up lmfao. And yes! It is the reversal of the ending of jjk 0, where Yuta parted ways with Rika and stayed with what remained of her, not her (which is literally 268), only to continue living with her as a curse. That's technically the curse/vessel situation Yuuji had with Sukuna.

The way Yuuji's parting words read like a proposal (just like Rika proposed to Yuta) isn't lost to little old me.

Considering they had always been specialz, sukuita could easily own this approach. Considering Yuuji's rather strange words to Sukuna (that he- a curse- is, in fact, a human) and is the one asking Sukuna to live (paralleling Rika) and he got his own body (unlike Rika), it is more than fitting for Sukuna to get his own as a human. It's basically a whole inversion of everything because real love conquers all, doesn't it? It never dies. It has no ending.

Yuuji is the main protagonist but Yuta was considered a main protagonist before Yuuji so it fits that. Also, Sukuna's cleverness could shine again here, with the way he swiftly avoided death via his parallel (the Queen of Curses) and reincarnated into Yuta (effectively ending up in the same spot that Yuuji is now). Two main protagonists. Yuuji is no longer a side character and neither will Sukuna be. They'd be more than just a vessel/curse and wouldn't just repeat history. Instead of hate, they'd be awfully in love. Surviving despite the odds and breaking the cycle.

I should have realized sooner That romance is going to be the protagonist

That is to say: Setting an example and giving real meaning to Yuta's own (wrongfully put) "This is pure love." (because you embrace someone no matter what and if it was pure love, Rika wouldn't part ways with him, would she?)

Ofc Gege could debunk this entire thing. There are 3 chapters till the end after all. Maybe they'll simply let Yuuji consume what remains of Sukuna and let them RIP together.

[ridiasfangirlings]

What does it take for sarumi from the main universe to plunge into the darkest depths of their souls and become the worst versions of themselves? And what are their worst versions? Like Sarumi from Dark Au or better or worse?

I think their ‘worst versions’ might not be quite Dark AU, since I tend to look at Dark AU as a more extreme twisting of their existing personalities rather than a darker extension of their personalities, if that makes sense. For Yata, in both cases I imagine the worst version of him being a lot more violent and angry, though I think particularly if we’re talking beyond Dark AU it would be more of a person who thinks what he’s doing is right and is willing to trample over anyone else in order to do what he considers to be the ‘heroic’ thing. I think for Yata to become twisted that way he would definitely need to suffer some kind of extreme lasting trauma (well, I’d expect for both of them some sort of trauma catalyst would need to occur but let’s face it, Fushimi is like one additional mental health crisis away from his worst version even as it is, Yata needs a bigger push). I feel like for Yata this would involve losing a bunch of people that he loves, like some twisted Strain kills his family and then kills all of the main Homra members and maybe even Fushimi too, and Yata decides to be the one who takes revenge. I think he’d have to kinda snap, basically, and for Yata to become what he himself would probably see as the ‘worst version of himself’ I think that means becoming a bully who really does trample over everyone else’s feelings. Like he’s decided to hunt down the guys who did all this, he doesn’t care if he has to threaten women and children to do it, and if anyone tries to stop him he’ll beat them up too, and everyone around him should be grateful that he’s the one willing to dirty his hands for this.

On Fushimi’s end in particular I think his worst self would be different from the Dark AU because I imagine Dark AU Fushimi as a more extreme yandere-type version of him, but I think if we’re talking Fushimi turning into his worst self that would involve becoming more like Niki. Like despite Fushimi taking on some of Niki’s mannerisms what I think is an interesting differentiator in canon is that Niki purposefully leaves Fushimi for long periods because he thinks if he sees his little monkey all the time it will become boring, but then by contrast to all accounts Fushimi seems to be constantly seeking out Yata because for all he’s pretending to be Niki he doesn’t see Yata as a toy (he sees Yata as ‘Fushimi Saruhiko’s precious thing,’ which means it’s something for Niki to break). So if Fushimi were to really become that twisted I think it would involve at the very least Yata’s death and possibly Munakata’s too, leaving Fushimi with little support system — Awashima and the squad would I think try to help him but none of them have the forcefulness that Yata or Munakata would have in this situation, and I think it would be easier for Fushimi to blow them off — and he basically decides to abandon caring about anything and simply seeks out things that amuse him, even if that amusement involves hurting someone else. I think for Fushimi the real darkest depth of himself would be turning fully into the thing he feared and hated most, losing any of that ‘sense of guilt’ and just letting himself be twisted into someone whose only interest is his own pleasure and nothing else, even as he’s aware nothing makes him truly happy.

[dirtytransmasc]

Just reading you about spider and agreeing he deserve better. Srsly my heartaches for him and everyone in the fandom painting him being a bad guy is too much like his gray character guys.

but what I notice from him he will never be truly accepted by the two species both humans and na'vi for the human's his to na'vi or (savage) and to the na'vi his the constantly reminder of what the human's did to their people and land and I cry for him for that. His just a kid who wants to be belonged and accepted but always getting rejected.

And what pisses me off is to those people who blamed spider for bringing the rda to the metkayina when in fact it was signal from norm and max got detected by the rda signal. And Jake also pissed me off saying that spider might betray them for telling where they are like sir that kid is literally a ride or die like did he ever think that the how dangerous humans are especially a military one those people will torture for info when like sir your was once a soldier you know how brutal they are? Did he not even think what will they do to spider a kid? Imagine if quaritch didn't step up that boy brain will melted off. So yes spider deserved better

spiders such a good kid, that like, yeah, by human nature he just wants to be accepted, but like, he so clearly tries to suppress it. like sure, he wears his hair like jake, paints blue stripes on himself, holds himself like they do, but we never see him actually try and force himself into their lives. he follows kiri and lo'ak around because they're his friends and they love him, but other then that, he tries to slink into the background and be useful. he doesn't want to be a burden, a reminder, one with the humans. he literally would do anything, sacrifice anything for the na'vi. he did one thing for himself (saving his father, who was one of the first, if not only adults to ever care about him in his entire life) after years of putting his wants and needs aside, and he gets absolutely shit on. like he's just a baby, who will never fit in anywhere, who "doesn't want" to fit in anywhere (cause 99% of humans suck and he doesn't want to hurt the na'vi anymore than he already does for existing.) and he's just hurting.

I think spider's gonna burn out by the end of these movies. not in the going villain or rouge sort of way, but I think we're definitely gonna see a breaking point where he's just done. cause it has to be so hard to keep going like that for years.

he's gotten kidnapped, tortured, dragged around by the rda, forced to watch brutal tulkun hunts and village raids, watched a sibling die to save him, gotten held at knife point by someone who should be like his mother, knowing she might kill him. he has given his all, and still just kept rolling with the punches like they didn't hurt. and still, everyone seems to expect the worst of him.

and that comment from jake, I took it two separate ways, but I guess they could both coexist;

he didn't trust spider to protect his family, despite the kids undying love and devotion for them, even after he was shown nothing but hate.

and/or

he knew they were going to break the poor kid and get what they wanted from him, no matter what it took.

I don't know which one makes me feel more sick. the thought that jake thought so lowly of spider, or the fact that he knowingly abandoned him to that fate. even if jake wasn't the kids guardian, he could have at least given enough of a shit to feign worrying about him, or mourning spider capture. I understand having to make harsh decisions like valuing the life of many over one (doesn't make it anymore palatable, but y'know, military politics) but like, he didn't give a single shit. that's what bothered me the most. they just forgot about the kid.

with what james cameron has said, I think things are going to start sorta looking up for our boy, but I don't have the most hope he's gonna get a truly 'happy' ending. I think so much damage has been done already, that spiders always gonna be that character that breaks my heart.

[cascadianights]

So much of passing as masc or androgynous actually meaning becoming the "default young thin male body" is so insidious

These breasts aren't just decoration! They aren't just annoying jigglesacks for back pain, or to attract the nearest mate! They have a whole ass function! My ovaries and uterus are part of a massive network of parts functioning together for the job of creating a whole ass other human.

Does that creation need to be inherently female?? Why, do you think only a true woman's hands can bend clay or smear glaze across canvas? Can only those with a true feminine aura bake bread from raw ingredients, or stitch together a tapestry of a story?

My breasts are here to provide life and nutrients! My options should not be "cut them off and deal with a long recovery in an already disabled body," or "never feel the sun on my bare skin." My want to birth a child despite the things I've been through and the failures of my own body was hard fought and hard won, why should I need to abandon that in order to be seen how I want to be seen? Why is passing, even as genderqueer, just being the picture of a thin young man to so many of you!! The Twink is not the default human being!! It is one of a thousand flavors and WHY are you so desperate to tell me mine can't be seen heard or felt unless I cut, bind, and tear myself to bits!?

My breasts are here for a reason. A purpose. A function I Want them to be able to be realized for. They aren't simply a weight to be cut off to allow me to Become. No part of me exists to be cut out and maimed for nothing else but the acceptance of strangers and the worst self-hating queers among us. No part of me requires total sacrifice in order for me to grow and change. Hating myself does not have to be synonymous with the Trans experience.

Find yourself, somewhere in the line between dysphoria and the socially-forced insecurity that you aren't that skinny twink or twinkella. Find yourself in a way that you only alter what You truly want to of your body, for yourself and your goals, and never to appease a stranger's glare.

We can do this. Without the "help" of those who define exactly how we need to change to be loved and accepted.

[flowerbwrites]

Hello! I’m looking for beta readers for my book, Prophesied! It’s 101k queer fantasy novel focusing on two sisters. There is a romance as well. I’m looking for feedback on pacing, flow, characters you liked or hated, if anything is confusing or boring. Really just how it feels reading it!

Description:

When every oracle in the nation is suddenly prophesying death, Victori is relieved. She's been held captive in the desert for years, and now she has a chance to be a hero like her older sister Jasa. Vic runs headfirst into adventure as she joins the magicless Commander Ryn and her militia in battle. If she could be half as strong as Jasa, or half the woman Ryn thinks she is, Vic might be able to save the day.

Jasa gave up her freedom to protect Vic, and now she's chasing her across the nation. She doesn't want Vic anywhere near this prophecy, but when beasts of nebulous shadow erupt from the ground, Jasa's dread grows. Vic may have been made for this. Her lightning magic has not been seen since the gods, and it's the perfect weapon against the Void.

While her sister's power is ancient, Jasa's is new. She's the first shadow-fire mage, and she should have known her magic would only enamor the Void. The Void tells her that her magic is familiar, and that this land was once theirs. They're taking back their realm and exacting revenge on the gods, a sentiment Jasa could get behind if it didn't mean ending all mortal life.

Victori and Jasa embark on a journey to understand their magic, why the gods chose them, and how they can stop the Void. As Victori learns more about the Void, she wonders if the gods didn't bless her, they damned her. They started a fight and abandoned her to finish it, even if it kills her.

If you want to read, please send me a message and we can connect!

And the first 300 words are under the cut:

As Heffire lay dying, she wondered how things like fate and prophecy could be so wrong. This was not seen by the gods who gave her life. This was not the will of her father, Ophel, the god of magic. What had happened to so disrupt the course of her great existence?

She had done what the seers told her she would. She and her sister Phenfire had brought peace to their land and sailed the ocean around the Gods' Mountains to find a new land, one bigger and stranger than theirs. Heffire had stayed here, in this new world, while Phenfire went back to their home. They were going to rule, twin sisters of greatness, together.

Now Heffire was bleeding out into the Boiling Seas at the hand of an assassin sent by her sister. All she could hope was that her loyalists in her sister's city had killed Phen too, so that Heffire was not truly dying alone. She was not supposed to die alone. She was supposed to die surrounded by gold, in greatness, worshiped, and ascend to the Gods' Mountains as a deity.

Through her pain and shock, she felt someone settle on the ground beside her. Someone gently lifted her head into their lap, and Heffire forced her eyes open to take in the beautiful face of Naomin, the goddess of love and pain. Naomin shimmered, translucent. Her hair was a bubble of water billowing around her, and her skin rippled like the surface of a pond.

Naomin stroked Heffire’s hair, and the pain in her body lessened. "Aunt, what did I do wrong?”

“Nothing.” Naomin's voice was as fluid and ethereal as she was, a soft whisper of waves lapping at the ocean shore. Heffire felt her anguish calm. "You did nothing wrong."

"But this was not seen," Heffire said, her voice weak despite Naomin taking away her pain and hurt. She knew Naomin was not here to save her life. Naomin was not a healer.

"Sometimes, through only willpower, people can change the tides of fate."

Heffire closed her eyes and wondered how her sister had gotten the willpower to kill her.

[atopearth]

Piofiore: Episodio 1926 Part 5 - Dante Falzone Route

I swear the first CG of every route is always the best one. Lili in that dress with Dante protecting her is soo beautiful! Anyway, I always hate the higher ups in the Falzone family, they're so annoying to everyone and give no constructive feedback, they just whine😪 I'm excited to see Raul interact with Nicola and Dante though! Excuse me??? Little Dante snuggling with a cat is the most adorable thing ever!! Is Teo like stalking Lili? He's everywhere lol! Anyway, it's nice to see Lili and Dante fight. I feel like they haven't had time to talk much at all so it's understandable that they would both get annoyed at the other since they both dance around each other not wanting the other to worry all the time. One thing I have been enjoying is how Henri has been seeing Dante for who he is rather than as the Falzone boss.

The purge was quite interesting, especially since apparently there was one that was done years ago when people kept trying to assassinate Dante and he was forced to. Not surprised Raul's parents were a part of the traitors back then. I guess I am disappointed at how weak these other Falzone executives are though. On the other hand, it's cute seeing Dante want to spend as much time with Lili and tell her how important she is to him and how she motivates him everyday with her smile haha. Nicola treating Lili as a sister and her treating him as a brother is so cute! It's so nice how their love for Dante connects them and I'm glad Nicola trusts her now haha. I feel sorry for Henri. He knows it's unreasonable to hate on Dante for his father, Silvio's actions, but now that Silvio is dead, who can he direct his hatred towards? He loved his sister, Chloe, but her life was forced to bend to her role as the Key Maiden without allowing her to live a life of her own, and when she thought that Silvio wouldn't abandon her considering they're "fated" and that he most likely slept with her, he didn't even think about choosing her. It must have been so cruel and terrible for Henri to see his sister change because of "love" and be ruined because of it, and even end up dying for it. I'm glad that Silvio truly loved Dante's mother, Beatrice though, because that's what I felt from the flashbacks. He was still an ass for how he treated people before he met her, but I guess at least Dante can at least believe in Silvio's love for his mother and his family?

Gil and Dante punching each other like children was cuter than I expected. It's nice to see that in this world of mafia, Gil and Dante actually really like each other and want to try their best to not hurt each other and their families. Honestly, I do feel bad that Teo's life sucked, and as usual, it was all because of the church! No one has happy memories of this church so everyone should just destroy it lol. Anyway, considering how much he had to suffer and Lili is the only thing alive that exists from his 'past' before all the torture and brainwashing, it can't be helped that he would direct his hatred towards her. In a way, he's similar to Henri. However, unlike with Henri, I sympathise and empathise with him much less and honestly fail to care for him as much as I would like to. I'm glad Henri is here to tell Teo that if Lili never existed, he wouldn't have even been adopted and had these happy memories of his. It annoys me that Henri had to die though, that was cruel. As for the tragic ending, I know that Lili's death was supposed to be like a shock at the last minute, but I found it so silly that with his last breath, the thing Gil would want to do is kill Lili when he wasn't even that into doing this whole killing thing. As for the other bad endings, it's honestly so petty of Teo to keep killing Lili without even talking to her.

Overall, in terms of being a villain, Teo was very disappointing. I won't say it wasn't understandable because to be basically tortured and brainwashed your whole life after having your nice adopted family killed for being the parents of the Key Maiden is pretty terrible and I'm sure him witnessing it as a kid must have traumatised him pretty badly. But as a Dante said, just because Lili doesn't show it doesn't mean she was always happy and never suffered. She suffered never knowing if she had a family, getting kidnapped, and living a life she had no control of either. Anyway, I liked Henri's role in the story because he's definitely much more fleshed out and understandable especially his agony with himself and the Falzone for causing his sister's death, but unable to find a way to deal with this hatred. I think it would have been more interesting to explore that rather than Teo tbh. As for the romance, it's nice to see Lili and Dante communicating much more honestly with each other, but it's just crappy that Dante was always so busy haha. Personally, it was cute but at the same time bland when coupled with the boring Raul and other executives trying to overthrow Dante, but I did like Dante showing a bit more of his decisiveness as a mafia boss, but really too soft and kind in the end. It wasn't a bad route and was better than the original, but honestly not much to say.

[valenteal]

Okay I actually really hate this take I’m sorry. Anakin was not possessive or selfish and that’s not what the Jedi taught him.

The way I think of it is that Jedi pursue inner peace by disconnecting themselves emotionally from situations, they feel empathy in a very detached way. That’s what having no attachments means. It’s in the word. The Jedi are Detached from reality as it is perceived by humans.

The Force gives Jedi a glimpse of what it is to be a 4th dimensional entity with consciousness no trapped in a single moment in time. So to a certain extent they don’t actually perceive time linearly and thus do not feel they’ve lost something because it still exists in the past.

So now that we’ve established that yes Jedi are detached from the present let’s move onto the more problematic statement about selfishness and possessiveness.

It is not selfish to want unconditional love. That’s basic human nature. Anakin, a person who clearly suffers from borderline personality disorder which comes with symptoms such as fear of abandonment, an unstable view of the self, devaluing or overvaluing relationships to the point placing of one’s self-worth entirely in another person’s hands, and more, literally needs unconditional love and support. And he developed this disorder in large part because of the Jedi order and the way they treated him. He was simultaneously considered the “chosen one” and considered a burden or a problem. He had to change everything about the way he thought to fit the prescribed mold of what a Jedi should be, and he was held to higher standards because of his perceived “chosen one” status and people were disappointed when he failed to meet them. I know from experience how truly awful it is to be told “i know you can do better” in a disappointed voice when you’re honestly trying your best.

And that’s not even touching on how in Phantom Menace he created strong bonds with both Qui-Gon and Padmé only to have both of the ripped away right after he’d left behind everything he knew and loved. After the movie he was around nothing familiar or comfortable. He didn’t know Obi-Wan and he knew that Obi-Wan hadn’t actually wanted him as an apprentice or even in the Jedi order. So he was surrounded by a bunch of people who all thought he didn’t belong and only let him stay because of a dead man’s wishes. He was NINE and being told that everything he ever learned was wrong and backwards and leads to being evil and that he needs to be perfect for anyone else to think he belonged because even the smallest mistake would just confirm their preconceived beliefs about him.

And that’s not even mention Sidious’s manipulation. Anakin never would have become anything like Vader without Sidious leading him.

Also! There is a difference between possessive and protective! Anakin is protective! He has lost so much he’s clinging desperately to what he has! He wants to protect the one good thing in his life. He doesn’t try to control Padmé, they actually have a very healthy relationship, it’s the situation that’s toxic. Anakin doesn’t view Padmé as a possession, I don’t know why anyone would think that. Oh wait the Clovis arcs. Right. Those exist and other people actually consider them canon. That’s a whole ‘nother rant about writing that I’m not going to get into here. But let’s make this one thing clear, Clone Wars Anakin and movie Anakin are 2 totally different characters psychologically because of the awful reception of the prequel trilogy when it came out.

"no attachments" in SW literally just means "don't be selfish and possessive". that's it. that's all there is. doesn't mean jedi can't have friends and loved ones. they can. just. don't be possessive and selfish about it. don't murder thousands of people in an effort to save one.

[pookys-ponderings]

Neon Genesis Evangelion: The End of Evangelion

The movie was a bit of a whirlwind, and it was very hard to comprehend at first. And it's honestly depressing and messed up and visually out of left field with all the metaphors but I do appreciate it for what it is. At the beginning of the movie, Shinji has given up completely, becoming unresponsive to everyone around him even when he is in danger of being killed. He simply is at a point where he hates the people and environment around him enough that force him into hegemonic masculinity that he no longer seems to care. Then, we see scenes that establish Asuka as the metaphor for people who adhere to hegemonic masculinity, as even when her Eva is devoured by angels and she is on the brink of death, she repeats "I'll kill you, I'll kill you" over and over again. At this (for some reason, I don't completely understand), Shinji's Eva wakes up and takes Shiji away. Once again, he is forced into the Eva, into this position of violence once again and seeing Asuka's mutilated Eva, he screams (hes right you know). The angels create an anti-AT field and Shinji is at the center of what will be the third impact and what will bring the Human Instrumentality Project's success. After telling Shinji's dad to buzz off, Big Rei goes to Shinji and Shinji screams. The Say that destroying Shinji's ego will bring the unity of humanity through their plan to unite humanity in primordial soup, one giant entity with collective souls. The angels begin merging with Big Rei, distorting her. Shinji again screams as he thrusts 01's controls, I think another last ditch effort / metaphor (for sex) to cling onto masculinity. He then says he can't take it anymore, after which he sees Kaworu, and he lets go of his ego which allows them to merge. These two events in succession mirror what happened in the show with him trying for masculinity and then dropping it when realizing he just cannot fake it, while also progressing the primordial soup. Later on, when the souls can communicate with each other and / or visions are happening, Asuka and get into a disagreement about communication and not understanding each other, and Asuka says that if she can't have all of him, she doesn't want anything from him, demanding that he respond in a particular way again. Shinji wants them to be unambiguous and gentle about what they want, the girls retort that ambiguity hides trauma, he retorts back that the ambiguity keeps him in a teetering, fearful state that maybe nobody will care for him at the drop of a hat. He begs them to not leave him and to care for him. He wants to stay with Asuka, but Asuka says that he only hurts him. Once again he begs for her to help him, she refuses and calls him pathetic because anyone will do, but its easier to bring to Asuka. He then gets violent with the table, begging Asuka, "Help me! Don't leave me alone! Don't abandon me! Please don't kill me!". Asuka flatly once again says no to his request. He then attempts to kill her via strangling. This whole encounter is Shinji begging the embodiment of hegemonic masculinity (Asuka) to accept him and it denies, and he caves into hegemonic masculinity again while also trying to kill it by attacking Asuka. He now believes he and the world (which legitimizes the hegemonic masculinity he hates) should all die. But Shinji comes to a point where he still doesn't want the AT-field (the thing that separates human minds, separates their understanding of eachother, which causes him pain) because he wants to exist as an individual. He is still afraid, and he knows he will feel pain again at points in his life, but he realizes his feelings in the higher moments were great and prioritizes those moments over primordial understanding. So the Eva emerges from Big Rei as her body dies, stopping the plan. He expresses that he has doubts. And then it kind of happens again at the end of the movie, him killing Asuka.

It seems that Shinji truly cannot survive in this hegemonic masculine circus alone…

[quiannesblog]

REFLECTION 001

Not Everybody Believes In A God: A Reflection Paper on My Experiences Growing Up With God and Religion

As the saying goes, “Every man’s heart one day beats its final beat. Their lungs breathe their final breath. And if what that man did in his life makes the blood pulse through the body of others and makes them bleed deeper in something that’s larger than life, then their essence, their spirit, will be immortalized by the storytellers.”

Theology was a subject that I have been avoiding to learn about ever since I was a kid.

Do not get me wrong. I love learning but when it comes to God and religious beliefs, it was a topic I refused to acknowledge as much as I could. I know of its impact and how it has affected history, especially the trajectory of human lives and if given a chance, I’d want to be open-minded about it, even if it means abandoning my own atheistic beliefs.

I grew up in a typical, religious Filipino family. Full of hypocrites and empty-hearted worshippers, who only kneel before God in desperate times and never on times they should thank Him. They used His name and the “supposed” teaching at church to scare me and force me in a box of fear and paranoia, without truly knowing God properly and the church itself. I used to be the kid who prays to God and Jesus; before I eat a meal served at our dining table, at school where I was most of the times, and before I go to sleep where I dreamed peacefully.

You could say that it was inflicted on me, because our house used to have this display dedicated to God and Jesus, filled with His and Their framed pictures, along with religious figures— such as angels, the apostles, and so on and so forth. But I’ve never seen any of my family members who actually prays and give an ounce of their attention at the altar built in at the corner of the wall, always going on their way and ignoring it. It was indeed just a display, even the thick-paged bible that was on our house has collected the dust, no mark of fingerprints were left on it to show that someone has opened and read it. My family loves to pretend that they cared about God, but I grew up hearing foul and hateful words coming out of their mouths, and how they cursed other people to damnation.

I was mostly ignored when I was a kid. They fed me, they bought me clothes to wear, I slept in a comfortable bed, and there was a roof over my head, but that doesn’t mean I grew up in a loving, caring home. I do not have vivid memories of the happiest moments of my life, but I do remember hiding behind the curtains and watching my grandparents fight all the time; sometimes, it’s about money, or my grandmother’s constant accusation of my grandfather cheating on her, or how they’re having a hard time raising me while my mother is still finishing her college degree. I was the result of teenage pregnancy and growing up was not pleasant for me, as my family would constantly berate me just for my mere existence and how they’d shamed my mother for getting pregnant early.

They’d tell me that I was a sinner and God could never love me, which resulted to me being scared all the time that I’ll just die because my family told me God eliminates sin and punishes the sinners. And my father? Oh, he left after they got married and started a whole new family; which is funny as I heard my grandparents say that he was a faithful and family-oriented man and yet he can’t take up the responsibility to be a proper husband to my mother and father to me. I was always alone and left at the house. I didn’t have anyone to play with as a kid. I had toys, yes, but I missed the feeling of what it’s like to have a bond and in my mind, I made up different imaginary friends. It was a lonely childhood and I always wondered what ever I did in my past life to deserve this (if ever that exists), because why was I allowed to have a life like mine?

I prayed to God. I prayed to Jesus. I prayed to anybody who would hear my prayers. I was so tired of hearing my family fight all the time and why it became the norm in our lives. None of my prayers were answered. It only got worse over the years and it made me often think to myself up until now, that if God truly exists why was my life like that? Am I not His child to be shun in a life that was miserable and lonely?

At school, I became envious of my classmates because I see their family picking them up after schools with smiles on their faces while the person always waiting for me by the gates was my yaya— strangers that have come and go in my life, who replaced the bond and comfort I seek out badly from my family that they cannot give. I saw how supportive my classmates’ parents were and how they praised them even if they did not well in school, so as long as they’re learning. But for me? It was a nightmare to step foot at our house the moment I have failed a school work.

I remember how I’ll sit at the dining table back at home with my grandparents and mother looking at me with disappointed expressions on their faces, my failed school works sprawled on the table instead of our dinner for the night. My mother would cradle my face gently, but her eyes tell a different story— she was mad and she saw me as a failure. She’d ask me, “Why didn’t you do better?” or “Do you think I’m happy with a score like this?” and I’d shook my head with tears in my eyes, my heart heavy knowing that she can’t be proud of me. My grandparents would stay quiet and compare me to other children, say why am I not like my classmate, or Aling Marie’s son, and so on and so forth. And all of the these things they’d said would fill my mind and I’ll just close my eyes to try and forget about it. During those nights, my sleeps were restless and I don’t pray because I feel like I can’t seek comfort from God. And even on the days I succeed, where I present A+ papers to them, they don’t feel proud of me. They don’t praise me and all I get is a nod and an empty acknowledgment, and at those moments, I feel alone, that not even praying to God can help me feel better.

Continue Reading...?

[malfattore]

✠ — Love and Lost.

Perhaps it seemed unlikely to some that he would even desire goodness, to feel it and exist as some part more than a monstrous creature, with little in relation and unison to the others around him, only relishing in cruelty and unfeeling for his imprint. It was against his nature, contrary to the hell that bred within and around him; Yet, despite this, and like how life persists in the worst conditions, love did begin to bud late in his heart.

Contrary to all; Love, for him, came in waves, each one stronger than the last, despite not understanding how he wandered in the water to begin with. 

In retrospect, now, he was nothing more than a sailor to the sirens.

In his youth, He followed the sound of a voice, a gentle tug, a reassuring whisper to ‘follow’ and ‘join’ the stranger within the water, yet not once did he feel the tug of the ocean itself, pulling him out to sea. He was no blind fool, keeping himself aware of the shoreline as the voices grew fearful, grew to abandon him and to force him to face the horrors of the unknown, where he was to return to shore alone, after they too faced who he was; The dark in his gaze and the bruising hold beneath his earthly grasp always too tight and captivating upon their flesh. It was as though his fingertips singed the longer they lingered and he grew to expect this, to feel what little he was able to explore, before they inevitably left him to the darkened waters. It was understood and expected, as he was not meant to tread such water, and he never blamed or pondered anyone for long. After all, he was not made for this — never taught to truly swim, let alone thrive, and he knew he would never survive the treacherous and ruthless depths. The harsh resounding voice of growth had always pushed the water away, saying that it was useless, pointless and that he wasn’t even deserving to feel the light embrace of the water, not after he took it from them; keeping him bound, ignorant and adverse. He knew nothing else, hardly cared to explore what he had spoiled, past what was enough to satisfy his curiosity, while his loneliness was sated in his own hands.

Until one voice rang out stronger than any before, a gentle tug that fully pulled him under, exploring with him far deeper and darker than he ever had… showing him what he had never seen or felt, where he learned the truth beyond the horizon — and in unfamiliar emotions and reckless abandon, he lost track of his pace, until the shore was long gone. He never looked back, even as the stranger began to hide from him, the horizon and the water’s edge merging into one.

Each time, he would simply steal the other away from the dark and interlock their cold hands, indulging in what seemed even unfamiliar to the other, and finding energy to continue onward between laboured breaths of persistence and gentle laps of the water’s surface. Even after knowing the other would let go, find the cold embrace of another, and return to him again — Until they didn’t. His searches turned to hunts, yet still came up empty, only catching the other in glimpses beneath the surface, where his hands could only grip at the other desperately, possessively, fearfully, unsure of just how to handle this normally, and receiving nothing but fear and anger from the stranger in the water, who now left him in darkness.

He was lost.

Should he linger blind, persisting in the frigid water, to someday feel their overwhelming warmth and healing touch, just to suffer the harsh pain of his heart’s overexertion until the next they met — or should he return to shore, far off an unknown horizon… where, if he should ever make it there alive, his body would be broken, bitter and aged.

He had always wished to belong here, to know it, far away from the loneliness of the shore and the hate that bred there, even if part was his own fault.

Blinded, yet he was no fool.

He knew he would not survive here alone, that the swirling creatures beneath the surface would inevitably swallow him up, piece by piece, before even his body gave up the fight. If the stranger wasn’t to stay with him, he knew. The tread back wasn't promised in his lifetime, but eventually, land would meet the soles of his feet and he would adapt to the resistance the water imposed on his steps. He would grow used to this until the dry shore finally relieved him, with the land that would house him, cold as it was.

He would return to his home where he burrowed, where the voice was right: that monsters were never meant to tread such things and he did not deserve to know.

[exsanguinatc]

There should have been alarm bells going off. Somewhere in her mind, something should have been telling her that it wasn't normal or right for her flames to dwindle and surge at his whim, for him to be able to play her like an instrument that was crafted for his hands and his alone. She hated him. From the moment she'd met him, she'd been so sure of that. But now? Now, the desperation that she felt for him was maddening. It was more than enough for how wrong this should have felt to escape her. The primal nature inside of her recognized the predator inside of him and was crying out for it, as though his feasting on her was the only thing keeping her from being extinguished. Maybe it was. Maybe this was the reminder that she needed. Only a true force of nature could withstand what felt like the insatiable hunger of a wolf pushed to his breaking point. Although it was hardly a chore to withstand that hunger, to be at its mercy. Pleasure followed in its wake. Wave after wave of it crashed through her body, and when his tongue finally relieved her of that crushing emptiness and his fingers began plucking torturously at her swollen clit, she wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to feel anything again. Her string of moans mingled with his. The assault was unending.

Until it wasn't. Until he led her further and further up towards the brink only to pull away and leave her to fall. One moment, every fiber of her being was set alight and glowing with sensation. Her existence teetered on the tips of his fingers and tongue, and she was finally ready to truly fall apart. The next, it was all gone. Trevor was gone. There were no words for it, only a mangled sob and the threatening sting of tears building from the loss of it all. Her body ached for him again like she'd been parted from a piece of herself. The hand that had been tangled in his hair reached back blindly to try to grab hold of him and ensure that he wasn't going to just leave her like that, wet and wanting and squirming in search of that feeling again. He wouldn't. He couldn't...could he? Lucid thought came back just in time for the sinking dread that he was going to abandon her now and throw her out like some kind of punishment to set in. Had she imagined all of the hunger in his eyes, in his actions? Surely, that couldn't be faked. Surely, even he wasn't cruel enough to-

McKaylee's entire body relaxed when he gathered her wrists, relief flooding through her over the simple fact that he was touching her again. Even just those few moments without contact had been too much for her, and she didn't so much as consider arguing with him when he threatened to restrain her. Would she be able to burn through a rope? Of course. Could she burn his hands enough now to force him to let go? She could, but that wasn't the point. The point was to be pulled apart by him, to let them both exist without boundaries. He didn't need to keep himself in careful check; she didn't need to prove her strength. She could burn freely while the wolf in him swallowed up her flames. So, when he commanded she spread her legs, she responded quickly. At least, she responded as best she could with the slight tremble in her thighs. It was his hand pushing her apart that really got the job done, and after a couple of long seconds passed, she was squirming again. Her hips bucked against nothing as she choked out a whine and tears began to roll in frustration. Still, it was a shock that made her cry out when Trevor finally tended to her need, sinking more fingers than she realized her body was ready for into her and letting out a noise that made her clench around them. His pace was every bit as relentless as before. Too easily, she lost herself in it, so much so that it took a moment for her to respond when he leaned over her and kissed her again. Once she did, she threw herself into it as best she could with her wrists still pinned and eagerly drank down the taste of herself from his lips, moaning in delight at the combination of them both and the press of his erection against the back of her thigh. All of it had her hurtling towards completion again. "Please," she gasped without hesitation at his taunt. Her eyes opened, only able to focus on the beast who stood in place of Trevor for an instant before his fingers curled inside of her and they rolled back. "Make me cum." She didn't just want to feel it, she wanted him to take it from her. She wanted him to unmake her. "Please. Pleasepleasepleaseplease-"

Her body was all instinct now, moving against him, reacting to every deliberate tease and touch like he was the only thing keeping her tethered to reality. And maybe he was. That thought? That hit differently. He wasn’t used to being needed like this, wanted like this, in a way that felt as raw and consuming as the fire she carried in her veins. It was a dangerous thought, one he pushed aside because right now wasn’t about him. It was about her—the way she arched and moaned and cursed him for not giving her what she wanted fast enough. Her demand to stop making her “do all the work” made him chuckle, a low sound that rumbled out of him before he could stop it. Trevor didn’t hold back, not even a little. His tongue plunged into her, pushing as deep as he could go, working her with a rough, relentless rhythm that left no room for anything but sensation. His head moved like a man possessed, no hesitation, no pause, just raw, focused intensity. He wanted her to feel everything, to know exactly how far he was willing to take this. One hand grabbed a firm hold of her ass cheek, spreading her wide to give himself better access, while the other slipped between her legs. His fingers found that perfect spot without missing a beat, rubbing over her with the same kind of fiery determination his tongue was giving her. It wasn’t careful or slow—it was all-in, fast, and unapologetic. He didn’t stop, didn’t let up, like he had something to prove and the only way to prove it was to push her right to the edge. The wolf in him stirred, not merely awakened but prowling, restless, and ravenous. His arousal wasn’t the simple, fleeting desire of a man; it was the demand of a predator recognizing its mate, the instinctual pull that surged through his veins like wildfire. She wasn’t just a woman to him in this moment—she was his equal, his challenge, his prize. The wolf didn’t see boundaries or hesitation, only raw need. It thrilled in the way her body responded, the way her scent grew richer, intoxicating, filling the air with a heat that called to every base part of him. His blood pounded in his ears, his senses sharper, keener. The world narrowed to her—the way she moved, the way she offered herself without fear, the way her fire mirrored his own. The beast within him rumbled in satisfaction, a deep, resonating growl that echoed in the hollow of his chest. She was his, every inch of her, every shudder and moan and gasp. And yet, that wasn’t enough. The wolf didn’t just want to take—it wanted to claim, to mark, to burn its presence so deeply into her that no force could sever the connection.

Trevor couldn’t stop the deep, guttural moan that rumbled out of him as his tongue worked her relentlessly. The sound vibrated against her, unfiltered, an unmistakable sign of just how much he was enjoying this. The way she moved against him, the way her body trembled and tightened with every flick of his tongue, it all fed into his pleasure, making him want to push her further, to see how far he could take her before she completely unraveled. That moan wasn’t just for her—it was for him, too. A reminder of how much he loved this, how much he loved having her like this: open, vulnerable, fierce, and entirely his in the moment. His grip on her tightened as he buried himself deeper, the sound breaking free again, rougher this time, as if he couldn’t hold back the sheer pleasure he felt from devouring her. Trevor felt the ache in his sweatpants intensify, his cock straining against the fabric with a relentless throb that was impossible to ignore. The heat of her, the taste of her, the way she writhed under him—it all fed into the raw need coursing through him, turning every pulse of arousal into something almost unbearable. His body was demanding attention, insistent and unrelenting, the tight, painful throb a clear reminder of just how far gone he was. Trevor pulled back with a guttural grunt, the sound rough in his throat as he forced himself to stop. It wasn’t easy—her body was trembling, her clit pulsing against his fingers in a way that had him on the brink of losing every ounce of control he prided himself on. But that was exactly why he stopped. The thrill of holding her right there, so close, was intoxicating in its own way, and he wasn’t about to let either of them rush through this. Trevor tore himself from her grasp and stood, a towering presence above her, and grabbed her wrists with deliberate force, pulling them behind her back and locking them together. His grip was firm, unyielding, a clear message that he wasn’t playing around. “If those hands wander again,” he warned, his voice low, “I’ll tie them.” The smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth was anything but kind—it was the smirk of a man who knew exactly how much power he held in that moment and wasn’t afraid to use it.

“Spread your legs,” he commanded, the words sharp and demanding. But Trevor didn’t wait. He wasn’t a patient man, not now when she released this monster. His hands found her thighs, strong and insistent, and parted them himself, pushing her open until he was satisfied with how exposed she was. His eyes dropped to her, taking in the sight of her completely laid bare for him. The pink of her glistened in the low light, and he couldn’t stop the low growl that rumbled deep in his chest. The sheer vulnerability of her position set every nerve in his body on fire. She was beautiful, wild, and his to command, and Trevor drank it all in like a man who’d finally found the thing he didn’t know he’d been searching for. Without warning, Trevor’s fingers pushed inside her, three of them sinking deep past her tight, clenching walls. Her heat wrapped around him instantly, searing and overwhelming, and he couldn’t stop the moan that spilled from his lips—a low, guttural sound that made it clear just how much he relished every second of this. His movements were deliberate and rough, his fingers curling and driving into her with an intensity that matched the fire she had lit inside him. His other hand tightened its grip on her wrists, pinning them firmly in place, as though daring her to try and take back even an ounce of control. Leaning down, Trevor’s lips found hers, rough and commanding. He kissed her hard, letting her taste herself on his tongue, on his lips, as his fingers continued their relentless rhythm inside her. It was an extension of the way his fingers drove into her, forcing her to meet him on every level. As if his fingers weren’t enough, the tip of his hard cock brushed against her thigh, the thin barrier of his sweatpants doing nothing to hide the heat and size of him. It was deliberate, calculated, a teasing reminder of what she was missing—what she could have if she behaved. Every movement was precise, ensuring she felt it: the press of him against her skin, the unspoken promise of what could replace his fingers if only she played by his rules. Trevor’s lips stayed close to hers, the rough kiss softening just enough to let his words slip through, his voice low and dripping with control. “Do you want to cum for me, little salamander?” His breath hot against her mouth, his fingers curled inside her for emphasis. “Hmm?” He didn’t stop, didn’t give her room to think, his fingers continuing their relentless pace while his cock pressed insistently against her thigh, making her painfully aware of what could happen next—if she answered the right way.

[equizona]

— 𝐓���𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐘 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄

summary. which of the genshin characters are most likely to go yandere on you?

feat. scaramouche, xiao, kaeya [ genshin impact ]

warnings. yandere themes, written in lowercase :(

a/note. i have been playing genshin for a total of 20 hours now, and i can't say i know a lot about it, but i wanted to do this regardless

✧ SCARAMOUCHE

✧ you are not the first person who he has loved, not the first to chain him to those disgusting feelings. even so, it still makes that nauseating pleasant feeling bubble within him whenever you are around, or whenever he thinks of you.

✧ despite this, scaramouche doesn't trust you in the slightest. everyone else has betrayed him, he doesn't have faith that you will be different, unless he keeps you from betraying him.

✧ constricted to his past, scaramouche doesn't trust you, but he does trust himself to make it so you can't betray him. he refuses to give you the chance to do so, even if it involves forceful measures that might make you upset with him. does that part really matter though?

✧ you can hate him as much as you won't so long as you don't leave.

✧ XIAO

✧ xiao cares about you so much it hurts. he knows well how this went for him last time, and while he is grateful for your existence, his past haunts his every step.

✧ he is so worried that something will happen to you as well. he can't stand the thought of losing you like he has lost so many others, it results in more extreme efforts to keep you safe, keep you alive.

✧ it starts with simple reminders to call his name, should you ever be in need of his assistance, or should you ever be in danger. this is enough for him for a while, you'll call for him should you need him and he is trusts you.

✧ suddenly, it isn't enough anymore. all he can think of is what happens if you're caught off guard, knocked unconscious before you can call for him? he feels sick to his stomach just imagining it. he starts off with spending more time around you, eventually he is following you around everywhere.

✧ even that isn't enough, at one point. he can't handle you being away from him for even a second. dangers are everywhere. he can't lose you too. he won't let you leave his side for anything. eventually, he'll just chain you up somewhere only he can access to keep you safe.

✧ KAEYA ALBERICH

✧ kaeya is a smooth talker. he is a charmer, and he is a manipulator. he has been left behind so much, by his father who abandoned him in the rain, a childhood friend who did the same. archons does he hate the rain.

✧ he doesn't want to be left behind once more, not when he has finally found someone again. he doesn't ever open up to you, not truly. he makes himself seem like an honest person doing his best to communicate with you. like he isn't hiding everything from you.

✧ kaeya knows that people are selfish. it is in their nature. he doesn't blame them. he doesn't share his burdens with you, only ones he crafts to seem serious, ones you can help with so you don't feel bad about yourself or the relationship.

✧ he molds himself, crafting a mask that is perfect for you. giving the image of a relationship that isn't perfect, but it's real, and you both try. what does it matter if he is building the relationship in such a manner?

✧ being honest has never worked in his favor, so he will lie as much as it takes to keep you within his arms. he knows one day you will leave like everyone else, but he will keep you as long as he possibly can, even if it's through more forceful means.

[orionsangel86]

SPN Conspiracies - Applying Logic to Chaos

Its been over 2 months now since the Supernatural finale aired. I am still so angry, hurt, and confused by it and I don’t think I will ever get closure unless someone like Andrew Dabb, or Jensen Ackles, actually opens up and gives us an explanation that makes sense.

What annoys me most right now is people trying to gaslight fans into believing that we should accept the narrative we have been given at face value: That the finale was always planned to be that way, that Destiel was never on the cards, that there was no Network interference, that the only changes made were due to covid and were minor at best.

This harmful gaslighting is FALSE.

NO ONE KNOWS THE TRUTH OF WHAT HAPPENED.

Look, I don’t agree with some of the crazier conspiracy theories. I don’t believe that there was some huge campaign among the CW Network execs to remove anything remotely gay out of homophobia. I don’t believe that the finale was changed because of some desire to make it into a Walker promo. I don’t believe that the finale was really bad on purpose in protest by Dabb for not getting to do an ending he truly wanted. I don’t believe that Dabb left us smart fans a bunch of secret messages in the finale to hint that he was on our side all along and that everything was fake.

I do, however, believe that all of these conspiracy theories have some elements in them that are plausible. At least, more plausible than the bullshit narrative mentioned above that some people are pushing in some desperate attempt to defend the Network (which imo is really strange behaviour anyway - why would anyone care about a TV network with a history of terrible behaviour?!?)

We have facts, based on information provided before the covid lockdown, which for some reason, people like Misha have since backpeddled on. So let me try to outline some of the information that makes no sense.

Below the cut I go on a deep dive into the conspiracies and statements I have heard about the SPN finale and try to make some sense of this whole fucked up situation. It gets long.

1. “Cas was never gonna be in the finale”.

False: We have many fan accounts of Misha confirming that he was filming the finale. We have video evidence of Misha confirming he was going back to film the finale after the lockdown. We have confirmation from fans in Misha M&Gs from March that he had about 5 days of filming left.

We also had fan accounts of discussions with Alex Calvert (I think) where he confirmed the final shot of the final episode was all four of them though I would LOVE if someone can find a source for this.

2. Okay, Misha was gonna be in the finale, but only as Jimmy Novak

False: I heavily side eyed Misha when he said this. But I think I can come up with a plausible explanation for it. Per above, Misha was supposed to film for 5 days. This does not align with the half a day he described of filming as Jimmy Novak. My own belief is that after Cas was cut from the finale (for whatever reason we don’t know) someone (probably Jensen Ackles) put up a fight and complained that Misha should be there for the final episode. The writers probably tried to come up with a way to bring Misha back without having to deal with Cas, and pitched the idea of Jimmy Novak being in Heaven. Misha, obviously annoyed about this, turned this stupid pitch down.

3. Destiel was never a thing, never planned, never part of Dabb’s ending. Bobo and Misha pushing the confession was the part of the season that was Wrong.

False: We have a SPN writer on record saying that Castiel’s confession was the first thing written for Season 15 when the writers returned to the writers room. If it wasn’t planned, why was it the first thing written, why does it align so well with the rest of season 15? Look I know some people either a. hate destiel and refuse to see it even if it slaps them in the face, or b. have major heteronormative goggles on, or c. are just homophobes in denial, but 15x18 fits in perfectly with the narrative of season 15. Everything Cas says, everything that happened in that scene was so in character it just works. It fit. If you just rewatch the season whilst applying some critical thinking skills and pay attention to the narrative and character arcs, trust me, the confession fits in with pretty much every other plot point, and character story in the season.

Also: We have known for a while that the network did market research into Destiel, wanting to know if it would go down well or not. They were well aware of its popularity and considering it. Where would this have come from if not pitched by the showrunner? Dabb must have at least been considering it. If you take all of Dabb era into consideration, starting with mid season 11, all the way through the season 12 build up, season 13 grief arc, and then Bobo’s Destiel break up arc in late season 14, early season 15, it is clear that there was some toing and froing on the issue of Destiel, but ultimately, I still believe that Dabb was on board. He wrote 13x01 for christs sake. No way he wasn’t taking it seriously.

 4. It’s always been about the brothers. The finale just stays true to what Supernatural is all about.

*rubs temples* Fundamentally FALSE: The show has time and again reasserted the message of “Family don’t end with blood”, as well as the messages of AKF and YANA. Sam and Dean may be at the heart of the show, but a heart can’t exist without a body to support it. Without bones, and lungs, and blood, and muscles, and a BRAIN. The finale abandons the shows core messages. It forces the characters back into their season 1 characterisations and the whole thing becomes hollow and souless. But I’m not here to complain, I’m here to lay down the facts. Dean’s heaven was supposed to be surrounded by loved ones right? We know OG Charlie Bradbury was gonna be in his Heaven, we also know CAS was gonna be in there. So this idea that the finale as it currently stands was how it was meant to be is wrong. Dean was supposed to die and reunite with his found family and loved ones. This alone would have been a far better ending than the one given. Do I think this was solely a covid issue? Fuck no.

The randoms that WERE in the finale are proof alone that they could have got people in and quarantined. We also have several actors on record saying that they WOULD have quarantined for the finale had they been asked to return but they WEREN’T.

Lies have been told. Samantha Ferris and Chad Limberg have confirmed that we have been lied to about the original plans for the finale.

This alone is proof enough that there is more plausibility in some of the conspiracy theories than any bullshit narrative some people are pushing in defence of the barbaric mess of a finale we were given.

So lets address some of the conspiracy theories now:

Conspiracy No.1: The CW Network reviewed Supernatural during the covid break, and due to homophobia, refused any Destiel arc that wasn’t already filmed, shut down any potential reciprocation from Dean, and forced Dabb to change his finale.

I don’t think this is entirely what happened. But I do think it is very strange how there is a such a huge disconnect particularly in Dean’s characterisations between what had come before the lockdown, and what came after. The one fact we have here, and please someone provide a source if you can find it because I know there is one, the finale script was still going through changes up to only 2 weeks before it was filmed. We know that there was some weird editing in 15x18 (which was still in post and uncompleted before lockdown) and we know from Jensen’s own mouth that there was more to the confession scene on Dean’s side that was cut. We also know that this isn’t the first time that Destiel heavy moments have been changed in post - the prayer scene is another big scene that went through a lot of changes and Bobo fought to have his script play out the way he wanted it.

There are certain things that in my own opinions, are basically true of SPN which I have put together from years of keeping one eye on the writers room, the network, and all the various comments made. My opinion is this:

The writers room has always been split on Destiel. Some writers heavily supported making it canon, others did not care, or were against it.

The Network considered it over the course of several years, did market research, green lit it, then changed their minds, possibly several times over the course of Dabb’s era. Destiel was pitched to the Network early in Dabb era.

The crew on set were also split. Some people heavily supported it, and worked to assist the reading, whereas others did not care/did not support it. The same can be said for the editing room.

Bob Singer supported the subtextual homoeroticism, but never supported bringing it into text (this is an opinion, but I think it aligns with everything we know about him.) IMO Bob Singer also supported subtextual homoeroticism between Sam and Dean - the guy is gross is what I’m saying. He isn’t exactly a progressive person.

Fun fact - a while back our old enemy Sera Gamble went on a Twitter rant about writers rooms and the ways a script goes through changes. I don’t think this was in relation to the SPN finale wank but she basically inadvertantly confirmed that the Network can step in and make sweeping changes to a script if they want to and if they decide they don’t like the direction of a story. Sera Gamble confirmed this as a fact.

Now. I’m not saying that this is what the CW did with Destiel. I just think its very strange how pre lockdown, the last thing filmed is a heartfelt homosexual declaration of love between Dean and Cas, and we have a finale script that Misha had not seen, but knew that he was meant to film as Castiel for 5 days (5 days on set is over half of an episode as far as I know). Then all of a sudden, Covid happens, and Cas is cut from the finale completely, a desperate attempt to bring Misha back only as Jimmy Novak takes place, which Misha rightly refuses, leading to a finale which makes zero sense narratively and appears in every way completely and utterly butchered.

The only explanation provided by anyone involved is that Covid meant changes had to happen - but that covid didn’t change the actual story at all.

But this makes no sense because we know that Cas was cut from the finale. This is FACT. Do not let anyone gaslight you into thinking otherwise. Misha was preparing to quaranting to return to set as Cas post Covid, so whatever happened to cut Cas from the finale, it wasn’t Covid.

I’m gonna have to Occum’s Razor this and say that the most logical explanation here is the one that is most likely true. Someone got cold feet with the Destiel story, and to prevent any possible interpretation that included Dean reciprocating, any hints of Destiel were removed from the finale script, including Castiel’s whole appearance.

Now, this isn’t me saying I think that Dabb’s original finale was full of Destiel love confessions and a homosexual kiss or whatever, but I am asking you all to really think about it and ask yourselves WHY Cas would have been totally cut from an episode he was supposed to be in at LEAST half of? 

We will probably never know the real reason Cas was cut, but he WAS cut. I’m not saying it was all homophobia, but some fuckery went down.

Conspiracy No. 2: The CW Network changed the finale to make it into a Walker promo because they only cared about raising up Jared and not Jensen and Misha as they were losing them anyway.

I don’t agree with this in terms of the finale being butchered solely to make it into a Walker promo. There are however moments in the finale that are clearly supposed to be Walker Easter Eggs and added to excite fans of Jared/Sam in particular such as Sam’s gratuitous and unnecessary topless scene, as well as the call on the “case in Austin”.

I will take this moment to say something pretty damn controversial though.

*Deep breath*

The fact is, Dean Winchester has been the “lead” character of Supernatural’s narrative for years now, with Sam often being sidelined and not given great storylines himself. Even in Season 15, right up until the finale, I myself felt bad for Sam sometimes because so much of this show has become all about Dean. Jensen Ackles is clearly the better actor when it comes to emotional story arcs, so the emotional heart of the story has most often leant on him.

So you can understand my confusion, when this is turned on its head in the final episode, to make Sam carry all the emotional weight, and have the most lines/screentime, and story resolution (even if his story resolution was just as crappy as Dean’s).

If we pretend that Destiel is not a thing, and ignore Cas’s confession, the story change in the finale from Dean focus to Sam focus is still rather suspicious. Again, I’m not saying I completely approve of or agree to the conspiracy theory that Walker influenced the butchering of the script, but I can believe that perhaps a note went down from the CW to someone like Bob Singer, to emphasise Sam/Jared more than they perhaps would normally, because the CW wanted to shine the spotlight on Jared to raise excitement for Walker.

I can also believe this note might have said something like “we wanna cater to fans of Sam/Jared the most - don’t do anything to piss them off.” but now I am getting into my own conspiracy theories so by all means dismiss this as me being bitter.

Conspiracy No.3: Dabb purposely made it bad, as a secret message to Destiel fans that he had been silenced, by layering meta clues into the episode that he knew fans would notice.

I doubt this one is true. Though some of the theories are quite compelling. The old vampire silent movie theory for instance starts off quite well, but loses me the moment it brings up Urban Dictionary slang.

Sometimes I have just had to accept that Supernatural is a bad show that is sometimes accidentally a masterpiece. However, some writers really did go That Deep with their stories - anything by Ben Edlund or Steve Yockey for instance, their episodes are meta masterpieces with a hundred different layers of beautiful subtextual storytelling and are a joy to analyse. Bobo Berens has certainly done some A+++ work especially now we KNOW that he was working hard all this time to bring Destiel to canon text (so any analysis of Destiel in the subtext in his episodes is very accurate). There have been many other key elements analysed over the years which have been confirmed true. Cas’s death in Season 12, Dean’s time as a demon in season 10, Season 11 ending in unity of dark and light, these were all plot points predicted by meta writers just by analysing the narrative. Sometimes the writers really have been very smart and they do add things to the show to aid us in our meta.

Richard Speight Jr for instance, confirmed that SPN has a visual library that the production team use to give clues and hints in the narrative. Pizza, for example, always means a lie has been told. Whenever Pizza is being eaten or even just mentioned on screen, there is dishonesty in that particular moment.

The beers also have a very specific message and the one thing I can’t let go about the finale, was that Dean was drinking El Sol beer. The beer his dad gave him, that was terrible.

El Sol has been used in the show to indicate something being wrong, a fake reality, or another lie, for the longest time. It is the beer of deception.

The fact that in the final episode of this entire show, Dean is in Heaven, supposedly at peace, and then he gets handed an El Sol beer to drink? Thats a HUGE red flag for any meta writer watching who can read SPNs visual library.

If they had given him the Margiekugel beer of family then it would make sense. Dean is in Heaven, with Bobby, his family, at peace. Margiekugel should have been the beer of choice. But nope. El Sol. Something is wrong.

I don’t know if it was Dabb, or Singer, or some disgruntled ADs and crew members who added these elements into the finale, but their very presence confirms some message of Wrongness.

I could go into a huge rant about Vampire Mimes not making sense and the very glaringly obvious symbolism of cutting out peoples tongues too, but that is high school level film analysis. It’s obvious. It means to silence someone. There is validity in interpreting this as Dabb saying he was silenced. I don’t know how true it is, but i can’t 100% dismiss it, because as I said, this is high school analysis levels of obvious subtextual storytelling.

So in summary, whilst I don’t think that Dabb intentionally went out of his way to sabotage his own script, and leave a breadtrail of secret messages for savvy fans to put together to confirm that he was silenced by an evil network into not getting what he wanted... I do think that there is validity in questioning these odd choices for the finale. Cutting out tongues? Vampire Mimes? El Sol beer?

The evidence is somewhat compelling is all I’m saying. I don’t believe the full conspiracy theories, but as I have said many times before, some fuckery went down.

So What Do I Believe?

That some fuckery went down and whatever company line they are pushing is bullshit.

I believe that the original script included Cas (since thats fact). I believe that the original script probably always had Dean dying on a vampire hunt (due to Jensen’s issues with it and in particular, his sarcastic comments about vampires in the past year or so which in hindsight are hilarious and prove he never really came to terms with Dean’s idiotic death). I believe Dabb’s original script was some less crappy version of what we got, which potentially included showing Jack rescuing Cas from the Empty and resolving the outstanding Empty plot points (potentially this was actually a 15x19 plot since Mark P commented that his final scenes were supposed to be with Jack and Cas), had Cas reunite with Dean in Heaven and had them have a discussion about Cas’s confession. I believe that there was probably a lot of back and forth over how to handle that with some people wanting Dean to obviously reciprocate and others believing they should keep it ambiguous. I believe that Dean and Cas would have reunited with Charlie Bradbury, and Bobby Singer, and possibly others (though if this was the case it must have been very early on since no one ever looped in Sam Ferris, Chad Linberg or any other Roadhouse people).

I believe that Sam’s ending probably didn’t change much, but I do feel that initially they were planning on him ending up with Eileen, because it is the only thing that narratively makes sense. Cutting Eileen and giving him a blurry wife is something I won’t ever understand and Jared’s bullshit explanations are quite clearly pulled out of his ass to appease bronly types. I believe the reunion on the bridge would have included Cas and Jack, with a final shot of all four of them together, at peace (as this aligns with Alex’s comments from around a year or so ago that the final shot was all four of them). (I also am not sure it was always supposed to be on a bridge since the foreshadowing in an earlier episode showed Dean, Cas and Sam all in the Roadhouse together).

I believe that script went through countless changes and redrafts, and not even production people or the types that some fandom people claim as their “sources” would even have seen those early scripts, since even Misha never saw it. I believe that these rumours of Dabb never having Cas in his finale and ignoring all Destiel elements likely come from people who only saw later versions, weren’t party to network discussions and felt bitter about the final scripts they did see (being the crappy butchered one that was ultimately filmed). Those “sources” are now spreading rumours to discredit Dabb.

I obviously believe Dabb is a weak ass pushover who either didn’t care enough to fight back, or gave up since he’s been stuck with fucking Bob Singer on his back for years, but I will NEVER believe he didn’t care about the DeanCas love story, because he has been one of the few writers who has championed for it for years. You can’t look back at Dabb’s episodes in earlier seasons and claim he didn’t care. Dabb was a writer whose creative ideas were beaten out of him by an unforgiving Network only concerned about where their future money was coming from. Do I think he gave up too easily? Yes. But I also have one other huge reason for not believing the bullshit about Dabb being this anti-Destiel villain.

Bobo. Because if Bobo truly believed Dabb was gonna fuck that up at the end, I don’t think he would have given us Cas’s love confession to begin with. If he had known it was gonna end like that, I think he would have reconsidered, because had Cas not confessed his love, I don’t think he would have been cut from the finale. Bobo - a gay man, would not have wanted such a horrible message for queer fans being put across in the show he worked so hard on. He started writing that confession scene the day they returned to the writers room. Dabb would have been there, would have seen what he was writing, probably discussed it with him, after all, other episodes were written with the confession in mind. No way was Dabb planning to fuck up the ending knowing what Bobo was giving us. Nope.

Something went very wrong over lockdown. Someone, somewhere up the chain of power caught wind of the confession scene in 15x18, realised that it demanded a resolution which would make Dean Winchester, their protagonist, queer, and pulled the plug. I believe this did not come from a place of homophobia, but of bad business sense.

The CW is constantly trying to win the approval and attention of the one demo group that they seem to fail at getting the most: young straight men. Supernatural was one of their only remaining shows that appeals to young straight men, and Dean Winchester is more often than not the fave character of those young straight men who project onto him. Making Dean Winchester, established Han Solo of Supernatural, queer and in love with his best friend in the finale would have come across as a betrayal to those young straight men. The CW probably feared they would lose that demo group for good, and with a show like Walker starting soon with Jared at the helm, they couldn’t take the risk.

Hence there was probably a whole bunch of back and forth script redrafts with the Network, with Dabb and Singer fighting to make a finale that would appeal to everyone. There was most likely no way that they could bring Cas back without addressing what had already been filmed, because any resolution of that plot would either a. make Dean queer, or b. address it awkwardly by having Dean reject Cas (this storyline would probably have been slammed by critics worse than the finale because it meant addressing it. It might have got the attention of LGBTQ activist groups and caused a bigger shitstorm than what we got). The best option was therefore C. Bury it and Cas, pretend it never happened. Never address it again and distract Dean with other things. Hope that Destiel fans will accept no answer from Dean as ambiguous enough to imagine a future reunion rather than shutting it down with a rejection, and still keep hold of the blissfully ignorant heteronormative straight boys so they can carry over to Walker when it starts.

I also believe (controversially probably) that there was concern that any resolution of Dean and Cas would have overshadowed network darling Jared Padalecki. If Dean and Cas had come together in the finale, with a very clearly textual homosexual reunion, then that would have been all anyone talked about. The reviewers, the critics, the audience, everyone. It would have been nothing but Dean and Cas (and look, if they did think this, they were right, Destiel trending over the US ELECTION.)

So what is the network to do, when they are losing the two stars who would get the most attention from this storyline? The one star they were holding on to and getting his own show, relegated to third place in the finale of the show where he was first on the call sheet? Nope. That’s pretty unacceptable. Even without Walker I can imagine people at all levels side eyeing the Destiel thing over the years. This IS a show about two brothers, and their relationship should be the core relationship, we can’t have one brother pushed aside in the finale to make way for a queer relationship that will get all the attention instead. It was never gonna get approved for this reason ALONE.

At the end of the day, if I look at it from a business perspective, it makes far more sense that the CW shut down Destiel, rather than “oh Dabb never cared and ruined it because he’s an idiot.” The writers cared, and had built on that story over years. But their mistake was leaving any Destiel resolution to the finale. If they had instead gone and got Dean and Cas together in early season 15, then they could have ended it in a way that satisfied everyone. Destiel wouldn’t have threatened pulling focus away from Sam and Dean, and the show could have gone out on a high.

When I lay out all the conspiracy theories, and line them up next to the cold hard facts, the conspiracy theories in some way or another, make more sense. To believe the company line, the narrative we have been fed, is to ignore your own eyes, ears, and memories pre March 2020.

All I’m asking people to do is take a look at the show, the narrative presented in the show, and the information presented above. I’m not telling you to believe what I’ve written here, half of which is just my own opinion. I’m asking you to ask yourselves if it makes sense to you. Because it sure as hell doesn’t make sense to me. I don’t think I’ll ever be satisfied.