#when you expect people to listen to you even if you have shown them nothing but complete disregard YOU are in the wrong

[yugocar]

one of the fundamental things non-europeans (and many europeans frankly) don't understand, by not knowing european history, is the historical relationship between the balkans/eastern european countries with their surrounding empires (western european powers, russia, ottomans). the birth of most of these countries, in the 19th/20th century, was defined by the interests of the empires at the time. empires which leveraged their power to to determine the future of these nations, with little to no care for the populace of the regions they were shaping. it's okay not to know this, you cannot possibly know the history of every part of the world, but this is the exact reason why some sweeping statements about europe as a continent sound nonsensical. particularly so for the people who live in its newer and poorer countries. for the various people of eastern europe, grouping them with the same countries whose leaders played with the future of their nations/people as though they were toys, is absurd. and they are right to find it absurd. if you erase a significant portion of history of an entire area for your convenience, a history that defines their current reality, its people are right to dismiss you. of course there are times when simply saying europe/european is appropriate and necessary, it's just that a lot of people can't seem to tell the difference when it should be used. naturally the point of all this is very simple - don't make sweeping statements about places (any place) you know nothing about, and if you don't listen to people when they try to talk to you about their own history, why on earth would they listen to you in return?

[chaos-in-deepspace]

L&DS Rafayel: Don't Look At Him | 18+

So my solid rule of thumb is that if a fic is 1k words or longer, it's no longer a drabble...and this is just over 1k. I wrote this before work in like 15 minutes though, but I hope it's still enjoyable! OH! and this was a request, by the way, so hope the requester enjoys this!

♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Pairings: Rafayel x Reader ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Warnings: Unsafe Sex, Creampie, AFAB Reader, Jealousy, Wall Sex, Quickie ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Synopsis: Rafayel is jealous that you were so close to Sylus in the N109 zone and decided to remind you just why you come home to him instead. ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Word Count: 1k

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Rafayel

Don't Look At Him

There were few things scarier than when Rafayel let his perfectly made facade disappear. You had noticed it before, how sometimes he seemed a bit more rigid. He always seemed so carefree and lax, but he had fought alongside you before, you knew there was something he hid all too well from most people. Hell, there was that time you had a stalker and he almost incinerated him on sight the moment the man tried to attack you. The cold look in his eyes that day, the serious tone, you just knew he wasn’t all that he tried to make himself out to be. He was so much more and he never let you peel back those layers.

So when he allowed his quirky, artist persona to fade for a little while, you knew you were in deep shit, “So you have a new boyfriend, then?” his words were far colder than you were used to. He had gotten upset before, but it was always cute pouting, this was dangerous.

“Raf, I had to use him to not die in the N109 zone, and we just happened to hit it off and became…sort of friends…business partners?” you trailed off, “Listen, there is nothing romantic going on between me and Sylus.” you tried reasoning with him. You heard his footsteps get closer and suddenly you were up against a wall. He could’ve slammed you against it, but you could feel his hand behind your head, making sure you didn’t get injured. Even pissed he was looking out for your safety.

“Is that so?” he mused, “Are you sure about that? You two looked awfully close,” he said, trailing over your body. You squirm underneath his touch and he shakes his head, “I guess I just need to remind you exactly how devout I am for you,” his breath whispered your name almost like a prayer.

You didn’t know what to expect, but feeling him hiking up your shirt and working off your shorts wasn’t one of them, “R-Raf!,” you gasped out, feeling him taking your pants off as he looked you up and down, licking his lips.

“Sorry, my heart,” he groaned, “I don’t have time to waste right now,” he said, “I’ll be worshiping you later, but for now I need to be in you,” what the hell did he mean by that? His hand went over your entrance the moment he had your pants and underwear down your knees, his fingers finding their mark as he pushed them inside of you with urgency.

You growled out a small curse, shivering at how he began working you open against the wall of his studio…against the fucking entryway because that was as far as you had made it. His fingers felt delightful and you wanted more, rolling your hips and whimpering. He leaned in, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss that was more teeth than tongue at this point, his desperation clear.

You heard him working his pants off, the buckle a clear indicator and you didn’t even get a chance to look down with how he was pressing you against the wall. You could feel his cock against your thigh as he worked on hiking your legs up, supporting you as he prodded at your entrance. He had barely worked his fingers in you and now you could feel his cock and gods everything was a blur.

Rafayel plunged his cock into you, making you all but scream his name against his lips as he kept you there. “Fuck,” he groaned out, “So wet, so tight,” he murmured, his forehead now against yours as he began pumping into you. Your entire body jostled with every thrust and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders for some form of support.

This entire situation was hot and you didn’t know where it all came from. One moment you were coming to the studio, the next you were being pressed and fucked into the wall next to the coat rack because this man was jealous. You couldn’t even say anything as his mouth began leaving a trail of kisses down your jaw and to your neck.

You whimpered at feeling his teeth biting into you, sure enough leaving a mark and possibly drawing blood but you were too fucked out to care. The drag of his cock inside of you was the only sensation you could focus on, closing your eyes and letting out small whimpers and cries. The familiar coil inside of you building faster than anticipated. Rafayel leaned closer, making sure his pelvis was flush to your front so with every stroke he was grazing your clit.

“R-Raf, fuck, mhm-” You were whimpering his name now, so close to release; the feel of his pulsating cock signaled his own. 

“I know, I know,” he groaned, “Wanna feel you soak my cock, fuck -hng please, m-my heart, cum for me,” he gritted out, closing his eyes for a moment before he reopened them and locked his gaze with your own. That was all it took as you clenched tighter, coming undone all over him and possibly soaking his shirt that was in the way. You were whimpering, your clutch on his shoulders stronger as he pulled shaking gasps from you.

He groaned loud against your ear as he spilled inside of you, his seed warming your insides with every stroke and his mouth came back to yours in a sloppy kiss. You groaned into it, tongue playing with his own as you savored the feeling of his languid thrusts into your sopping core. It took a few moments for him to still, catching his breath and panting against your mouth.

“Fuck…Raf,” This was probably the first quickie you ever had with him, normally he liked to take his time with you. The thought was hot though as you clenched down again on his length, earning a groan from him,

“I’m not done with you, my pearl,” he murmured and you gave him a small look of surprise.

“But you just…?” you began and he smirked.

“When have you known me for only doing one round?” his tone was lightening up again, returning to the more familiar Rafayel you knew, “Although this time I want it to be on a bed so I can take my time,” his tone trailed off and you flushed. The day was apparently still young, and your boyfriend had plans to fuck you so dumb you probably wouldn’t remember any man’s name other than his own.

Me? Writing Top Rafayel? I mean...it sometimes happens.

[anniebeemine]

Hiiii i saw that the fic request is open????

May I request for a fluff with a little angst??

Maybe about the Reader is the type who always listens to their friends/dates but they never really listens to the reader when she talks about things? Bc they have different interest, and no one really bothers to learn more about the reader’s interests..

so the reader’s kind of insecure with starting a relationship with spencer since no one really care to learn about the real them before and afraid getting disappointed?

Or you can make your own ideas! Love your fics!!

Thnkyouuu!

oh this one felt a little soul bearing to write but almost in a therapeutic way.

You'd always been the kind of person who listened. It came naturally to you—friends, family, dates—they all knew they could come to you with their problems, their stories, their dreams. You were the one who nodded attentively, who remembered the little details, who asked the right questions. It felt good to be that person, to be relied upon. But over time, you began to notice something that chipped away at your confidence, bit by bit. While you listened to others, no one really listened to you. Conversations were often one-sided, revolving around their interests, their hobbies, their lives. When you tried to share something about yourself—your own passions, thoughts, or dreams—their eyes would glaze over, or they’d steer the conversation back to something they found more interesting.

It wasn’t that you had nothing to say. You had plenty, a lot, too much even. But it felt like no one wanted to hear it. So, slowly, you learned to keep those parts of yourself hidden. You stopped bringing up your interests, stopped trying to share your world with others. After all, why bother when no one seemed to care?

Then came Spencer. Meeting him felt different from the start. He had a curious mind, always asking questions, always eager to learn. But that difference, that potential for something deeper, was what scared you the most.

On your first date, you had set the precedent. The two of you had gone to a small, cozy café, the kind of place where the noise of the world seemed to fade into the background. Spencer had been nervous at first, fidgeting with the napkin in his lap, but once he found a topic he was comfortable with, the words started flowing.

He’d been talking about a book he was reading—a dense, complex work about the history of criminology. You watched him as he spoke, the way his eyes lit up when he got to a part that really interested him, the way his hands moved as if trying to pull the ideas from his mind into the air between you. You’d never met someone who could get so passionate about something so academic, and you found yourself captivated. But then, in the middle of his explanation, Spencer had suddenly stopped.

His face fell, and he sighed. “I’m sorry,” he had said, looking down at the table. “I’m rambling. I do that a lot. Most people don’t really listen when I get like this.”

His words had hit you harder than you’d expected. There was something so vulnerable in the way he admitted it, like he was used to being dismissed, just like you were. And in that moment, you realized something: you liked listening to him. You liked the way his mind worked, the way he could weave facts and ideas together into something fascinating. It didn’t feel like a chore, like it had with others. You wanted to hear more.

“I’m listening,” you’d told him softly, reaching out to touch his hand. “I want to hear what you have to say.”

Spencer had looked up at you then, surprised. It was as if he hadn’t expected anyone to actually care about what he had to say. But when he saw the sincerity in your eyes, a small smile had tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he’d continued, a little more confident this time.

Remembering that now, you felt a pang of guilt. Spencer had opened up to you, had shown you a side of himself that he didn’t often let others see. And yet, here you were, holding back, afraid that if you did the same, he might lose interest.

But the truth was, you’d always been the listener.

It was a role you’d grown accustomed to, one that felt safe. Opening up, letting someone in—that was new, and it terrified you. Still, if Spencer could take that leap of faith with you, maybe you owed it to him—and to yourself—to do the same.

You like Spencer—a lot. But every time you thought about taking the next step, about letting him in, those old insecurities flared up. What if he was like everyone else? What if he only liked the version of you that listened, not the one who had her own thoughts and passions? What if, once he really got to know you, he’d lose interest?

The thought of that kind of disappointment was almost too much to bear. You didn’t want to risk it. You didn’t want to put yourself out there, only to find that, once again, you weren’t enough.

But Spencer wasn’t the kind of person to let things slide. He noticed the way you hesitated, the way you held back. He noticed the way you’d quickly change the subject when the conversation veered toward you, and how you’d deflect with a question about him instead.

One evening, after a particularly quiet dinner, Spencer finally addressed it.

“Why do you do that?” he asked softly, his voice filled with that gentle concern you were coming to know so well.

“Do what?” you replied, though you knew exactly what he meant.

“Whenever I ask you about yourself, you always change the subject. It’s like you don’t want me to know you.”

His words hit a little too close to home, and you felt a lump form in your throat. You tried to shrug it off, tried to downplay it. “It’s nothing. I just... keep telling me about Nietzsche. I'm interested."

But Spencer didn’t let it go. He looked at you, really looked at you, and in that moment, it felt like the world had tilted just slightly off balance, like you were in a movie, and someone had gone off script. None of the characters knew what to do. You didn’t know what to do.

The silence stretched, the weight of it pressing down on you until something in you snapped. A dam broke, and suddenly, the words started spilling out.

“I’ve always been a listener,” you began, your voice trembling as you spoke. “For as long as I can remember, I’ve been the one who listens. My friends, my family, dates—they all come to me with their problems, their stories, their dreams, and I listen. I nod and I smile and I remember the little details. And it feels good to be that person, to be relied upon.”

You paused, trying to steady your breathing, but the words kept coming, a flood you couldn’t stop.

“But the thing is, no one ever really listens to me. They nod, they smile, but when I try to share something—anything—about myself, their eyes glaze over, or they steer the conversation back to them. It’s like my thoughts, my passions, my dreams don’t matter. So, I just stopped. I stopped trying to share because why bother when no one cares?”

Spencer opened his mouth to say something, but you cut him off, your rant spilling out faster than you could control.

“Sometimes, I just want to talk, you know? About my day or about the cute little old man at the grocery store who asked me where the vanilla wafers were because he was making banana pudding for his granddaughter’s birthday. But no one ever listens to that kind of stuff. It’s always about them, always about their lives, and I just—I don’t know how to deal with that anymore.”

You finished with a huff, feeling the weight of your own words hanging in the air between you. The room felt too quiet, too still, and you didn’t know what to do next. You felt exposed, vulnerable, like you’d just laid out all your insecurities for him to see.

But Spencer didn’t flinch. He didn’t look away. Instead, he gently reached across the table and took your hand in his, his touch grounding you in the moment.

“You don’t ever have to ask me to listen to you,” he said softly, his voice steady and sure. “I just will.”

He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. “And now I have to know—do I have competition? Should I be worried about this vanilla wafer gentleman?” he added with a small smirk, his eyes sparkling with a playful warmth.

Despite everything, you couldn’t help but smile. Spencer always had a way of making you feel seen, even when you tried to hide, even when you tried to shrink into the background, afraid to take up space. There was something in the way he looked at you—not with pity or impatience, but with genuine interest and understanding—that made you feel like your words, your thoughts, your very presence mattered.

For so long, you had convinced yourself that you were destined to play the role of the listener, the one who supported others but never asked for anything in return. It was easier that way, safer. You wouldn’t have to face the disappointment of being ignored or dismissed. But Spencer had gently, almost imperceptibly, been pulling you out of that shadow, urging you to step into the light and share the parts of yourself you’d kept hidden for so long.

His question, playful as it was, carried a deeper meaning. It wasn’t just about the little old man at the grocery store or the vanilla wafers; it was about Spencer’s desire to know you—the real you, beyond the surface, beyond the polite conversations and deflections. It was about his willingness to listen to the stories that no one else had ever bothered to hear.

The realization settled over you like a warm blanket, comforting and unfamiliar all at once. It felt strange to be on the receiving end of such attention, to have someone care enough to notice when you were holding back, and to push gently, but firmly, for you to let them in.

You looked at Spencer, his hand still holding yours, and you saw something in his eyes that made your heart swell—a quiet determination, a promise that he wasn’t going anywhere, that he would be there, listening, no matter what.

The smile on your face widened as you shook your head, a soft laugh escaping your lips. “No, you don’t have any competition,” you replied, the tension in your chest slowly melting away. “Though you might have to fight him for the last box of vanilla wafers if he gets there before me.”

Spencer chuckled, the sound light and easy, and you felt a weight lift off your shoulders, a burden you hadn’t fully realized you were carrying. The room seemed a little brighter, the air a little lighter, and for the first time in a long time, you felt like you could breathe.

“I like hearing about your day,” Spencer said after a moment, his tone more serious now. “I want to know what makes you happy, what frustrates you, what you think about when you’re lying awake at night. I want to know all the little things that make you, you.”

His words wrapped around you like a protective cocoon, shielding you from the doubts and insecurities that had plagued you for so long. There was no rush, no pressure—just a gentle invitation to share, to open up, to let him in.

You squeezed his hand, feeling a swell of emotion that you struggled to put into words. “Thank you,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that.”

Spencer’s expression softened, and he leaned in a little closer, his thumb still tracing patterns on the back of your hand. “You’re not just someone who listens, you’re someone worth listening to. And I want to hear everything you have to say.”

In that moment, you knew that this was different. Spencer was different. He wasn’t just someone who would talk at you or fill the silence with his own thoughts. He was someone who genuinely cared, who wanted to know you in all the ways that mattered. And maybe, just maybe, you could let yourself believe that this was something real, something worth holding onto.

“Okay,” you whispered, your voice steady now, filled with a newfound confidence. “I’ll try to be better about sharing, about letting you in.”

Spencer smiled, a soft, reassuring smile that made your heart flutter. “There’s no rush. We’ll figure it out together.”

And as you sat there, hand in hand, you realized that you weren’t alone anymore. For the first time, you had someone who wanted to listen, who wanted to know you, all of you. And that, more than anything, was a gift you never knew you needed.

[allthosepeopleilovetofangirlover]

Dating Loki Headcanons

As a Midgardian...

Loki is cold, cruel and cunning. He pretends that he doesn't like anyone and is emotionless, and he was the same with you too.

But as he got to know you, he fell for you.

You had been in love with the God of Mischief for ages and finally worked up the courage to ask him out.

Loki agreed to go on a date with you.

In the beginning of your relationship, he was closed-off and cold but later, he would talk to you about everything.

Expect pranks and jokes at all times, but he'd do nothing that can actually harm you.

He loves shopping for clothes and shoes for you. They're always the expensive ones, something which you by yourself would never even think of buying.

But they're all green. He loves it when you're studded in his colour, and makes a face when you refuse to wear green.

Loki has a calm, soothing voice and loves to read to you before bed. You love hearing his voice before falling asleep on his chest.

He often has nightmares, and whenever he does have them, he wakes up silently but covered in cold sweat. He doesn't want to disturb you, but you wake up anyway and always comfort him, not wanting him to feel like he's alone.

Whenever you have nightmares, he'll hold you tight against himself and start humming a song for you to calm you down.

He's afraid to get physical with you or do any physical activity with you really. He thinks he'll hurt you, and though you insist that you're stronger than what he thinks, he's still very careful.

But he will find other ways to show you that he loves you.

If anyone tries to hurt you, they're done. They'll find themselves stabbed to death.

He doesn't understand why you're so worried about money. It's a fickle concept to him.

Loki loves to watch you cook. You're good at cooking -and if you weren't- he'd still watch you. Because you doing anything at all is interesting to him.

He's extremely possessive. At public events, he'd always have an arm around you or he'd be holding your hand. He'd also insist that you wear green so that people know you're his.

Loki's not one-sided. He stays away from women who are interested in him romantically - or anyone who can cause problems in your relationship - but if someone does try to flirt with him, he rejects them politely and if they still don't listen, he kisses you in front of everyone, to tell them who he belongs to.

Loki's afraid of hurting you, but more than that, he's afraid of scaring you. That's the reason why he has never shown his frost giant form to you.

Eventually, you insisted and he revealed his true form. You were a little scared but mostly stared in wonder because the patterns and texture of his blue skin were beautiful.

You love playing with Loki's hair, and he tries to show you that he hates it, but on the inside, he loves it.

Your friends and the Avengers have tried to warn you about Loki, thinking that he'd hurt you. But after seeing that he loves you, they backed off.

Loki knows what other people think of him, many still don't trust him, while some outright hate him, but he could care less. He only cares about your opinion.

Loki only seems perfect, and even when he's a god, he's like a human. You love him for his imperfections, and wouldn't want anyone else in his place.

Masterlist

[oliswamp]

Anxious Manwhore AU: Extended family edition

tags via @nightmarearian

Yes, yes, and yes. To those not in the known, Laertes was Ody's father. Specifying this because there's also Hamlet character of the same name lol.

My musings under cut!

Laertes having unspecified sort of mental illness resulting in psychosis just Makes Sense. Maybe he had schizoaffective disorder? Jumping between depression and (hipo)mania he has shown Odysseus how to deal with various mental states, and although it was a huge baggage for the entire family, Ody loves his father to bits.

Odysseus knows his father both as his best (hunting that fucking Boar; Argonauts) and the worst, his depressive episodes when he wouldn't want to even show his face to the people.

When Ody starts experiencing hallucinations and delusions, Laertes tries to help as much as he can with his experiences.

They both feel pretty helpless about the state of the lineage though, because who would want to marry someone with such baggage, even if they were a king?

And then comes Penelope. Penelope with her own baggage, but so much understanding and resourcefulness, she completely blows them away with her methods of dealing with mental stuff. She listens, understands, and helps.

Laertes has a conversation with Odysseus that goes: "if you don't marry her and worship the ground she walks on, I'm going to disinherit you". It's an empty threat, they both know Odysseus already worships the ground Penelope walks on.

Later, once they're expecting a child, Laertes prays to any god who listens that little Telemachus (or Telemachia, depending on what gender the child is gonna turn out) doesn't have the same baggage as his father.

The gods only kind of listen.

Telemachus is autistic. (Did you know autism was considered a symptom of schizophrenia until very recently? Like. It literally was not considered its own thing until like 1980)

More on my headcanons later, I really need to do my homework now, but to reiterate: I completely agree with the tags. Especially since I'm schizoaffective myself.

So yeah! Tune in later for more AU thoughts, and perhaps the first draft of the song! (I promise nothing)

Taglist: @the-beloved-genloss-niki (ask to be added and I'll @ you each time I make a post about this au!)

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Late night talking

Look... I caved in and that conversation with @brekkershadowsinger at 1am really got the brain going. So here's a little Pedro piece...🫣

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It was rare for you to have a day all to yourself. Life always found a way to keep you busy. If not work, then your studies, and the other way around. Then juggling a somewhat social life. As it was, that wasn't your strongest attribute. But you had Pedro to save you there. In the year that you two had been together, he had learned to read you like the back of his hand. Well, it didn't even take him a year to do that, to begin with.

Sometimes it seemed almost bizarre how quickly Pedro would understand what was on your mind or what you needed. You didn't need words. It's like Pedro just knew. You've never met a person who listened and genuinely cared so much. Sometimes you would just be waffling around, telling him something completely random, and the next day Pedro would be there asking you about it. And you were there with big eyes and a slightly open mouth, not expecting him to have any recollection of that conversation whatsoever.

A relationship you had before Pedro left you completely broken and made you want to give up on love. You lost hope in the concept of a relationship. It saddened you because you truly wanted to fall in love and society had twisted something so beautiful and made it wilt like a flower. But Pedro was a true romantic. It went beyond him opening the door for you or pulling out your chair. He understood what boundaries were. Something a lot of men struggle with nowadays. He took time to get to know you and ask what things you were okay with and what made you uncomfortable. A no meant a no. Without any further questions besides if you were okay. It was hard not to fall for him. And if Pedro fell first, you fell harder. From just casual dates and coffee runs, you found yourself dancing around in Pedro's kitchen at one in the morning. Laughing as he spun you around. Murmuring the words of a Spanish song you didn't understand.

The sound of the keys clattering made you lift your head from the book that you'd been reading. The weather in New York was pretty crap today. Well, crap for people who had to go outside, but a lovely addition to the cozy ambiance you had created in your shaded apartment. "Carino?", Pedro's voice echoed through the hallway, instantly making you giddy. It was almost embarrassing how you still got butterflies after a year of being with him. He still managed to make you blush just the same. "In the living room", you called out for him, and soon the sound of footsteps came closer and closer. Pedro's face broke into a huge smile as his eyes landed on you.

To Pedro, this was also new. He didn't believe that he would get to fall in love, let alone fall in love this hard. But the moment he saw you, he just knew. Knew that if he did nothing, he would blame himself for the rest of his life. Bella, of course, only added to this. When Pedro, in true teenage boy fashion, had shown them a picture of you after gushing over how incredible you were for days, Bella had nagged Padro for not messaging you yet. Then snatched Pedro's phone, typing out a quick hello and asking how a coffee date sounded, before handing him the phone with a very pleased smile. Now Bella took great pride in being a part of getting you two together.

"Well, hello there, aren't you all cozy", Pedro stepped closer to the sofa, and you instantly stretched your arms out, inviting him into your embrace. Pedro quickly shrugged off his jacket before moving to lean into you. "Hi, handsome. How was your day?". Your fingers moved through his slightly damp hair, which had gone rather curly because of the humidity. Pedro only hummed in delight, "Now that I'm here and you're doing that, I'm in heaven", you let out a breathy chuckle. Your nails scratched his scalp ever so slightly, and you could feel the tension of the day leavening his muscles as Pedro slowly turned into a puddle.

"You fancy a bath and some food? Made your favorite", but Pedro only wrapped his hands around you tighter. The past few weeks, with The Last of Us airing and The Mandalorian Season 3 starting soon, have been hectic. You barely saw each other even if you lived in the same place. Pedro left before you were awake and got back late into the night. You could tell that Pedro was enjoying the success and the excitement of the fans, but the exhaustion was just as visible.

"I would fall asleep in a bathtub", "Shower?", you suggested. Pedro murmured something, his hand slipping under one of his hoodies that you've been wearing. Cold fingers made you hiss slightly, but you didn't pull away. "Come on, up you go", You patted his back a couple of times, and Pedro let out a frustrated growl. "You better come with me, or else we're staying here", he argued back, making you roll your eyes. "I will join you, you big baby. Now move your cute bum".

You undressed each other slowly. Leaving light, fever-like kisses here and there. A shoulder. Chest. Cheek. Cupping Pedor's face to kiss him gently, you realized that you hadn't properly kissed him hello yet. You moved to finish folding the clothes as Pedro turned the shower on. You felt a hand sneaking around your middle, and soon Pedro was dragging you into the shower. You let out a surprised yelp, falling into a giggle straight away as the water poured over your skin. "You're sneaky", you said, leaning back slightly and pulling Pedro under the stream of warm water. "Only when I need to and mostly just for you".

You helped him wash his hair, but mainly it was just him holding onto you in silence. You wanted to ask him about the interviews and how Bella was because you knew that the two had met up, but Pedro was done talking for the day. After all, that's all he had been doing. So you held him closer to you, making sure to leave a couple more tender kisses over his skin. Pushing his wet hair away from his face and smiling at him fondly. You two had dinner together afterward. Chatting about little things that weren't work-related. You ushered him to the bedroom almost right away and laid down with him to make sure that he would fall asleep. Running your fingers up and down his back or his muscular arms till light snores were leaving Pedoro's mouth.

He looked so peaceful, finally. You realized how long it had been since you got to watch him sleep. Even if that sounded weird, he looked so fluffy and soft, all curled up by your side, hands loosely wrapped around you. You held Pedro for some time until you could see that sleep was not going to find you. It was still rather early, so as carefully as possible, you slipped from your lover's embrace and made your way out of the room.

Pedro woke up sometime later. He wasn't sure how much time had passed; all he could tell was that the bed was way too cold for his liking. Reaching out his hand blindly towards the other side in search of your body, he frowned when he found it empty. A dim light from the living room seeped from under the door, giving Pedro clear evidence of where you probably were. So he got up even though his body was fighting against it. You sat there with your head buried in the book. Hair messy, a big fluffy throw draped over your body. Pedro still couldn't believe how you managed to make his apartment feel like home. But then again, anywhere he would go would be home if you were by his side.

"Why are you here?", Pedro mumbled, rubbing his tired eyes as he walked closer to you. "Why are you up?", You lowered the book, moving your legs to make space for him if he wanted to sit down, as you looked up at your partner. Not expecting to see him here. "The bed got cold, and well, I feel robbed because I was promised cuddles", you chuckled to yourself. "My apologies, but the light seemed so bright in the room, and I still wanted to read."

Pedro looked down at the cover of the book in your hand, frowning slightly, "That's not what you've been reading this morning". You hummed, "Finished that one and started a second one", Pedro raised his eyebrows, his tired eyes barely staying open, "You read two books?", "Girl has to keep herself entertained, and I can't just watch tiktok of you all day long, cowboy", Pedro's lip curled up at the mention of that. There was something about you squealing every time you saw an edit of him that you liked. Maybe it was silly, but he liked that it affected you. He knew you loved him as he was, but this was that extra bit. That little something that would make him smile to himself. He was already yours, but you were still having little meltdowns over him.

"I vote for the second one", he mumbled, reaching for your hand, but you shook your head. "I still want to read a bit; I'll be there soon, I promise". Pedro glanced at the clock on the wall. It was two in the morning. Two in the morning. You barely ever stayed up this late. "No, carino, bed now, and I don't want to hear anything about it", leaning in, Pedro quickly wrapped his arms around you, playfully throwing you over his shoulder. You let out a squeal, hitting his back gently, the book still in your hand. "Put me down, Pedro, you'll hurt your back", you tried not to move too much so you wouldn't cause him trouble as he moved through the apartment. "You keep on wounding me, love. First, I woke up alone now that I'm old," Pedro said, shaking his head. You could hear it in his voice that he wasn't upset with you, but you still couldn't help but feel bad for leaving him.

Pedro dropped you onto the bed before making grabby hands at the book. You once again shook your head and Pedro gave you that are we seriously going to do this right now look. "Give it to me", "No", you pressed the book closer to yourself. "One more chapter and then sleep, please, P", you tried to give him the best puppy dog eyes. "It's two in the morning, darling," he said, "But I need to know if he fights for her and they finally come back to one another". Pedro sat down on the side of the bed, one hand casually resting on your lower stomach. "Baby, it is late, and you are tired", you pouted, rolling your eyes. Pedro used this opportunity to quickly snatch the book out of your hands, making you gasp as you tried to reach for it. With a victorious chuckle, Pedro put the book on the floor before quickly laying on top of you. Mindful of his body weight but making sure you were comfortably pressed beneath him.

"Never thought I would have to fight a book to get to my girlfriend", "You wouldn't have to if you let me finish it", Pedro lifted his head from your chest, "Yeah, no. I prefer this way more", his head plopped back down onto your chest, hands gripping your hips. He let out a satisfied sigh. "I just really need to be close to you. The head is so full of work stuff", he nuzzled his face further into the crook of your neck, "You make it less noisy". Your arms embraced him instantly, turning to kiss his head a couple of times. "This time, I promise I won't run away", Pedro let out a tired chuckle. "You better watch out, or I'm taking away your books", he warned, making you let out a gasp. "Sir Pascal, you wouldn't be so cruel", Pedro mumbled something close to trying me, but you didn't quite hear it. From the way the hold Pedro had on you loosened, you could tell that he was falling back asleep. "I love you, P", you muttered, fingers continuing to run up and down his back as you closed your eyes. The steady breathing of your lover lulled you into slumber.

[moog-rt]

GO TO HELL [ch. 3]

[Lucifer Morningstar x Fem!Reader]

Previous: Chapter Two

➨ Chapter Three

Next: Chapter Four

Premise:

You love your friends. You really do. But sometimes it needs reminding when one of them accidentally sends you to Hell.

Despite falling into the hands of Hell’s loveliest princess, finding a way back to the world of the living proves difficult as you tiptoe around its king.

Warning(s): sudden popularity, mistakes were made (by you not me <3)

If you'd prefer to read on Ao3, here is the link:

Otherwise, enjoy!

♡ ♡ ♡

CHAPTER THREE

Well.

You finally made it on TV. Fame and fortune were nearly yours for the taking. People would be lining up outside for your autograph and maybe even just the chance to catch a glimpse of you.

The ‘Human in Hell.’

That was the headline the news broadcasters decided on. It was slapped on top of a clip of you hauling ass through the rancid streets of Hell. You were clearly panic stricken and fearing for your life, but why would the announcers care about that?.

A darn shame it was being aired live across all of Hell. Your dignity was the price you would pay for fame amongst the worst people to walk the Earth.

You were curled into yourself on the couch, unable to peel your eyes away from the screen. Vaggie was pacing behind it, muttering out profanities you didn’t know existed. And Charlie? She was doing her best to calm the both of you down. Bless her heart.

The reason you had to end your little escapade to the Morningstar Manor early was because Vaggie texted saying she had bad news. You thought perhaps her recruiting backfired or there could have been a fire in the hotel that she couldn’t put out.

You did not expect to be called back because the entirety of Hell now had you on their radar. This complicated things quite a bit as one might imagine. It was much easier to hide as a human when only a handful of people knew about you. Now, everyone’s eyes were peeled in hope of finding you.

“Look, she’s all-over social media, too,” Vaggie groaned, showing her phone screen to the two of you. She began to read off some of the posts, “Vox and Katy Killjoy are promising viewers an interview with her…There’s already bidding wars for Christ’s sake!”

“Let’s not worry too much about this…As long as we make sure she’s in her disguise when we’re out, it’ll all be okay,” Charlie said.

“They caught her on video. What if they tracked her to the hotel? They could show up any second looking for her!”

It was touching she cared so much about your well-being in this situation, but the goal was to have you back home as soon as possible. Once you were out of Hell, none of this would be a problem. You doubted demons would pass into the living world just to come after you. At that point, there was an endless number of humans to choose from.

“I don’t know…They probably would have already shown up if they knew she was here,” Charlie reasoned, and Vaggie’s pacing began to slow.

“I was able to get away from all the demons that were after me by the time I found the hotel,” you added. “No one should have been around to see me come in.”

Charlie was finally able to get Vaggie to sit, and a tense silence enveloped the three of you. Charlie was rubbing Vaggie’s arms soothingly, so you took it upon yourself to turn off the tv. There was no point in listening to it anymore. All it did was stress everyone out, and there was nothing you could really do about it. Your current plan of action remained the best.

“So how was your day, Vaggie?” you asked in hopes of breaching a more positive topic.

“Oh, right! Did you find anybody who would be interested in staying with us?” Charlie chimed in with a bright grin.

The poor girl sighed in response.

“There was one person who was interested in what we’re offering,” she began, “but he seemed more enticed by free rent than redemption��”

“That’s okay. Maybe if he spends a little time with us, the idea of redemption will start to grow on him!” Charlie sounded like she was also trying to convince herself.

“I guess…” Vaggie grumbled. “He said he might drop by tomorrow or the day after to check things out. Would that work for you guys?”

“Oh, my gosh. That would be great!” Charlie squealed, jumping up from the floor. “We have to head back to my dad’s in the morning, but any time after that would be perfect.”

“No luck today?”

“Not really,” you sighed. “We were able to look around a little bit but we ended up running into her old man.”

“And he tried interrogating her,” Charlie groaned, running her hands through her hair as the memory resurfaced. “I was so worried he would suspect something, but your emergency text totally saved us.”

“Did the disguise work at least?”

That was an excellent question. While he didn’t seem to question anything about your appearance, he still seemed suspicious. It was entirely possible he could smell your fear. You’d expect no less from a demon; they probably fed off of it. Who knows…

You should be nicer. Charlie and Vaggie certainly hadn’t given you that impression. In fact, you were pretty sure you saw one of them eating toast for breakfast. They likely had perfectly normal digestive systems.

“I think so! We’re just gonna have to make a good cover story in case he finds us again.”

The three of you began to brainstorm, losing track of time as it faded into playful conversation. There was an intermission to order food since their ‘kitchen’ still wasn’t quite ready to be used to such an extent. And eventually, you parted ways to get ready for bed.

Your arms were full after they had given you a towel and a plethora of toiletries to help scrub all the paint off of your body. When you entered your room, you were also greeted by your ‘human’ clothes, clean and neatly folded on top of your bed.

And laying on top of those was your phone.

Holy shit. You had completely forgotten you had it on you before your ass was ripped through that portal. Of course, the adrenaline rush that immediately followed your arrival in Hell didn’t help. And you were so eager to get those nasty, garbage covered clothes off, you hadn’t noticed the weight in your back pocket.

You dumped all the toiletries onto your bed to grab it.

The home screen was piled with notifications ranging from worried texts to company newsletter alerts. You began thumbing in your password to rifle through it all… but then you noticed your hand.

The paint was rubbed away.

On your fingers and wrists. There were splotches where paint was gone, revealing your natural skin underneath.

When did this happen?

Your palms were almost completely barren, likely from everything you had touched throughout the day. On the back of your hands and around your wrists, there were smaller spots where your skin was peeking through.

Like fingerprints.

You felt like you were delt a sucker punch to the gut.

Maybe…Maybe it was from your own hand. You could have been rubbing at your own wrists subconsciously. With all the stress-inducing shit going down, that wouldn’t be unlikely.

But if the paint could come off so easily…

No. You had to believe it was your own doing.

Regardless, you had to find a way to prevent it from happening again.

You opted to wait until the morning to break the bad news to Charlie and Vaggie. The two had just gone off to bed, and honestly, your nerves were getting the better of you. Your stomach was twisting in on itself as your heart pounded relentlessly against your ribs.

You would tell them. You would.

Just not right now.

More than anything, you wanted that dried up paint off of you.

Tossing your phone aside and grabbing your bathing supplies, you scrambled into the bathroom to throw the shower on. The feeling of peeling those clothes off and clambering in to let the hot water rush over your sticky body was ethereal. It was so satisfying to watch the unnatural pigment run off your skin, erasing any evidence that it may have transferred onto that man’s hands.

You closed your eyes and tilted your head back, hoping it would wash away your worries, as well.

Finding the will to get out of the shower was difficult. But your body was tired, as well as your mind.

Flicking the lights off, you tumbled into bed, content with its softness in that moment as the mattress and pillows consumed you entirely. You were more than ready to knock out and forget about all that had happened over the past couple of days.

You didn’t want to think about the fact you were likely being hunted by god knows how many hell-goers. You didn’t want to think about the impact the time you spent here would leave on your life in the living world. Your job, your relationships (thankfully you didn’t have a pet). More than anything, you didn’t want to think about the possibility you may never get home at all.

With a deep sigh, you rolled onto your side and felt something hard beneath your hip. You groaned as you reached down to remove it, finding the phone that you had carelessly tossed aside. It made your heart swell.

You wanted your friends. You wanted to read their texts, new and old. Hell, you wanted to see any memes or posts they may have sent you. Any semblance of normality was all you needed right now. You would take whatever you could get.

Slowly, you reached over and grabbed it. Its brightness hadn’t yet adjusted, and you squinted as you flash banged yourself.

Opening your messages, you saw Devon at the top. They said that they hoped you could see their message, that you were somehow okay.

That depends on what you consider to be ‘okay’.

Beneath them was that boy, Jack. He sounded upset. He probably thought you were ignoring his texts out of spite. His messages were a mixture of asking what was wrong and saying you were overreacting over whatever it was he had done.

You couldn’t recall him doing anything to upset you recently, so it seemed there were things you had yet to find out about. What a pain.

Your other friends that you were supposed to spend time with today were expressing their concern for your absence.

Are you coming?

Where are you?

Is everything okay?

Please respond.

It made your heart ache. You needed to let them know you were at least alive.

As soon as you started writing a message of your own, the text began to buzz. The overhead light and lamps in your room began to strobe, and pixels of red flashed across your screen as a horrible humming emanated from the phone. It sounded as if the room was filled with a swarm of bees. It was deafening.

Then you noticed those shackles.

Those red, glowing shackles that dragged you here were flickering around your wrists once more. You sat straight up, ready for them to pull you somewhere new, but then the room went dark and the noise was gone.

You could still feel the sheets beneath your knees, and when you turned on the lamp beside your bed, the room looked untouched. At the very least, you knew you hadn’t been thrown through another portal.

There was no sign that anything had happened at all.

♡

Your phone would not turn on again after that whole…event…from the night before. At most, it would crackle at you, but the screen remained black. It was possible it just died from low battery, but you weren’t paying attention to that. You wondered what the odds were that Charlie would have a compatible charger.

You could ask her about it later.

The two of you were back on the grind to find a way to access the living world. Once again, Vaggie had to hang back. They decided it would be best for someone to make the hotel slightly more presentable in case the potential patron decided to stop by that evening. A good call, in your opinion.

Beggars can’t be choosers, but their place didn’t seem particularly livable from the outside. Hence, why you thought it would be a good spot to hunker down to begin with.

You and Charlie had slipped into her dad’s place again, this time undetected. After checking out the room of relics once more and without any interruptions, you found nothing that seemed to be of use (from what you could tell, shit was written in ancient tongue).

Your next stop was library where you decided to split up in order to cover more ground.

Now, you wandered aimlessly through the towering shelves of books, unsure of where to start. Having no clue how it was all organized, you settled on the tactic of picking out books at random and letting your luck guide you.

It wasn’t going so well.

You were able to find only one or two books pertaining to the ‘mortal’ world, but neither had anything to do with accessing it. They more so covered history of civilization and travel guides once you were there.

Pulling out another book that looked to be promising, you sighed as that, too, ended up being a dud. Half an hour had easily passed since you began your search, and you were growing despondent.

You wanted to believe that there was some way to get back. Charlie and Vaggie had said so themselves. But if Charlie’s old home was your best shot, you didn’t like your odds looking anywhere else.

No matter how much you tried to stay optimistic, you couldn’t help but dwell on the possibility of being truly stuck here. Finding a way out was starting to feel like finding a needle in a haystack, especially now that you were rummaging through a library that easily held thousands of books.

You hated the thought of not being able to see your friends again. Your family. Stuck in a world where there was a target on your back for simply existing in it.

Your energy was beginning to dwindle. You were slowing down, and your heart felt so heavy.

And you hated it.

You hated the way your vision was beginning to blur and how your sunglasses were fogging up as your face grew warmer.

Your sleeve wiped away the first tear that threatened to slip past, but you were too slow for the second. It left a wet streak down your cheek before you were able to dab it away. You wanted to be careful of your makeup.

When Charlie was getting you ready earlier, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell her about the paint missing from your hands. You wanted to, but every time you thought you found the courage to say it, your throat grew tight, choking you into silence.

The most you could do was suggest a setting spray or powder to make sure it really stayed put. You told her you were just worried about the possibility of it coming off. Even if you couldn’t pull the truth from your own mouth, you wanted to take whatever precautions you could.

Your precautions, it seemed, were still not enough as the paint transferred onto your sleeve. Leave it to tears to ruin a girl’s makeup. You need to find someplace with a reflection to see if you could cover it up somehow.

As if on cue, you heard Charlie walking into your aisle. You felt relieved as she could probably blend the new smudges you’d created before anyone could see them.

“Hey, sorry but do you think you could help me out real quick?” you ask as you turned to her with your hand covering your cheek.

You nearly jumped out of your skin as you were greeted not by the sight of your newest friend but her father instead.

His hands were propped up on his staff, and his eyebrows were raised nearly to his hairline. He had a smug smile on his face to compliment it. Like he had caught you in the act.

There was nothing suspicious about looking at books in a library, though. Was there?

Adjusting your sunglasses so they were back in place, you put on the most charming smile you could conjure.

‘Hi—Good morning, Mr. Morningstar!”

“Hello, again,” he hummed, tilting his head as he watched you. “I didn’t think I would be seeing you again so soon.”

“Right, uh…Well, we had to leave in such a hurry yesterday. Charlie wasn’t able to find what she came for, so we’re back!” You lifted your shoulders to appear more excited than you were. At least you weren’t lying.

His finger started tapping on his apple.

“It’s quite interesting she didn’t think to give me any heads up. Almost like she’s trying to hide something…” He looked down at the book you were still holding for a moment then back at you.

Your heartrate spiked.

“What is it you’re looking for exactly?” He walked up next to you and made an act of looking through some of the books on the shelves you had just gone through.

“Huh? Oh, I’m not completely sure what Charlie needs, but she said I was welcome to look around in here,” you said, holding the book closer to your chest in hopes of hiding its title. “But I understand it’s your library, so if you’d prefer I not be in here, I’ll leave.”

He paused. With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes and pressed the apple of his staff to his lips.

“Look,” he began, turning back around to face you, “you said you were relatively new here, correct?”

You nodded, unsure of where this was going.

“I don’t know how it happened, but I can imagine the change was sudden, and it can be pretty hard to accept,” he said as he made a gesture with his hand. “I don’t blame you for seeking out ways to feel like you’re still in touch with your life before.”

You looked away, tight lipped.

It was hard, but you didn’t want to have to accept it. You weren’t dead. Not yet. Which meant returning to your life before was still an option for you.

“I’m very grateful to have met your daughter,” you said, shaking your head and looking back at him.

His eyes were trained on you, and it no longer felt as if he was trying to look through you or figure out your intentions. Rather, he was looking at you.

“It all would’ve been much worse for me if I hadn’t,” you continued. “She’s given me a safe place to stay and has been trying to help me in any way she can, and I feel very lucky for that.”

You looked back at him with a soft smile. Soft but genuine. Meeting Charlie and Vaggie was the only bout of good luck you’d had since being sent to Hell.

A smile grew on his face in return, and for once, you didn’t feel threatened by it.

“That makes me happy to hear,” he said. “She’s always been much too kind for a place like this.”

“I suppose so,” you chuckled. “I think that just means you did a pretty good job raising her.”

“Aha…I hope so…” he glanced away, sharp teeth beginning to peek through his lips. He then reached a hand out towards you. “May I see that book?”

Hesitating for a moment, you passed it to him. He read over the title before looking up at the endless shelves.

“Come with me,” he said, walking down the aisle.

You followed him in silence. As he turned the corner, you passed a large arched window that allowed red light to stream through. It illuminated the few specs of dust in the air, and when he walked through it, it turned his hair and skin a blush pink.

As you passed under the light, it felt as though all your prior nervousness washed away.

Yesterday, you wanted nothing more than to be as far from this man as possible.

Now, you felt at ease as he guided you through his labyrinth of a library.

He began pulling books from the shelves here and there, handing them off to you. When you looked them over, you realized they were all pertaining to the living world. You knew better than to hope he’d give you one that held the key to getting home…but what if?

You chatted with him a bit about Charlie and her hotel as you went on through the aisles. You were a little surprised by how much he didn’t know about her plans.

After a few minutes, your arms were filled with a stack almost up to your chin.

“That should do it!” he announced, turning to you with a wide grin as he brushed the dust from his hands. His eyes lingered on your face.

“Thank you so much! This is really kind of you,” you said politely. “I’ll be sure to give them back when I’m—uh…done with them!”

“No rush at all. I’ll be sure to stop by soon to see what all my dear daughter has been up to,” he said with a smirk.

You said your goodbyes and watched as he walked away. The smile adorning your face was subconscious, and your chest felt full and warm.

The weight of all the books was making your arms tired. You had yet to look at what he pulled out for you, but you could wait until you were back at the hotel to rifle through them. You probably wouldn’t be able to find anything better than what he had given you, so you decided to meet back up with Charlie.

She found some things that looked promising, as well. You figured she would have told you more about them if her eyes hadn’t landed on your cheek. The cheek that was out on display for the whole world to see as both your arms were full of the books her father had pulled out for you.

Next Chapter

♡ ♡ ♡

tag list: @spookysisters @for-hearthand-home @crescent-z @mixplara @juskonutoh @tinywolfiegirl @lafy-taffy @glowinthedarkbones1150

[wxnheart]

𝙼𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚒𝚗 𝚆𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚈𝚘𝚞 - 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐨𝐤!𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐂𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

inspired by this wonderful post by @pettyprocrastination. thanks!

Line Cook!Simon who's lost count of how many smoke breaks he's taken today because people are irritating and running a kitchen can be hard. If it isn't the disrespectful little newcomer fuck he has to tell off for the thousandth time, it's the fact that today's the day that one regular comes in and complains, yet again, about everything. If nothing's ever to his taste, why the fuck does he keep coming back?!

Line Cook!Simon who counts to 100 this time because he really hates losing his cool and fuckers, especially the younger ones, always try him. Is it the tattoo or the bloodshot eyes that scream murder? Do people really want these problems?!

Line Cook!Simon who ups the count to damn near 1000 this time because his dreaded customer has shown up. Again. And yeah, the crew's gonna be mad. Again. And yeah, he can expect the food to be sent back at least once. Again. Fucking hell, why does he even bother?

Link Cook!Simon who takes notice of you trudging along behind the yammering bastard. Oh. Oh. You're a pretty miserable thing, aren't ya? Emphasis on pretty. Never seen you around here before, but looking at you is much better than the Downer Dan who's talking your ear off. His lips can't help but quirk around his cigarette every time you roll your eyes whenever Downer Dan turns away from you. Oh well; he got his good view for the day. Back to work and running his nerves to the ground.

And poor you, accompanying your boss to lunch as a reward for your hard work or something like that. Your boss who's such an inconsiderate asshole that he didn't even give you time to respond to his invitation and so, here you are. He was busy talking your ear off about... something. Meanwhile, you were busy noticing the really scary guy out of your peripheral because it was better than listening to whatever your boss was talking about. You managed to get a good look when he turned away and put his smoke out and yeah, let's add rugged to the list—what was that, boss?

Your boss continues to talk your ear off when you two have been seated. His assholery knows no bounds. He's such a shit to the wait staff, delegating and talking at them than to them, and it's abysmal. If this were anyone else, you would've left but because it's your boss you have to sit and endure with a strained smile on your face. Fuck.

Your asshole boss critiques the food (even though it's been made to his liking and it's fucking good, what's his problem?) and pitches such a fit that the poor waiter, frustration simmering beneath their skin, takes the plate and practically stomps to the back. Your asshole boss who—OH SHIT!

It doesn't even feel like a second before you hear a crash and see the scary, rugged guy from before standing at your table (holy shit, is he a damn giant?!) and he's staring bloody murder at your asshole boss, the same boss who can't read the room and shut the fuck up. You would diffuse the situation but you're too busy staring at the scary, rugged, now cute guy to really come to your boss' defense.

Your boss is practically screaming and causing a scene, talking shit about how his food is never up to par and how he could buy their entire lives and the poor scary, rugged, cute guy is dead silent the entire time. Oh shit. All it takes to burst your boss' bubble is a: "Get the fuck out." Emphasis on fuck and oh, his voice—wait, what was that, boss?!

Your boss, indignant at such "treatment", retorts that this matter "wasn't over yet". Whatever the hell that meant. This time you intervene and use your best people-pleasing voice to calm him down. Somewhat. It's enough to convince the bastard to go and so he leaves but not without glaring at the scary, rugged, cute guy. The same guy who's too busy looking at you. Oh, dear.

You're embarrassed, doubly so, and you'll probably never hear the end of this from your asshole boss (because he holds a grudge like no other). You apologize profusely, a bundle of nerves, and give the justifiably disgruntled waiter all the money on your person. While it doesn't make up for the deplorable treatment and you're out about a couple day's worth of lunch, it's the least you could do. Besides, the little bit of food you did eat was good.

You take one more look at the scary, rugged, cute guy who... is still looking. You offer a smile (it was probably more like a grimace because anxiety) before leaving to catch up with your asshole boss. You may or may not have turned to catch one more glance. And almost walk into the door as a result. Oh, god. But if there's one thing for certain, asshole boss be damned, you'll be back to actually enjoy the food.

And unbeknownst to you, Line Cook!Simon, his temper abated somewhat by your actions, can't wait to see the view again. But fuck that guy you came in with.

[celaenaeiln]

Please talk more about B & D’s “unable to be defined/labeled dynamic/relationship as it encompasses many labels yet at the same time cannot be fitted to just one label” dynamic 🙏

I'd be delighted to!!

Link to original post

In the previous post I had included a panel where Bruce is referred to Dick as his "surrogate father, mentor, friend, and partner." These words could not be more different from each other and while they should not be used in conjunction with each other, they have never suited these two people more. In fact I don't there is any character pairing in any fandom that has the same dynamic that these two have. Dick and Bruce's relationship has a complicated depth to it that Bruce and the rest of his children don't have.

I think the most confusing thing is when Bruce constantly confuses Dick being a son and a partner.

First thing I want to start off with is that Dick and Bruce used to sleep in beds so close together it looks like one bed. In the 1950's this arrangement was known as the "twin beds" which were typically used for married couples. Children slept in a separate bedroom which begs the question why Dick and Bruce had a sleeping arrangement similar to that of marriage partners. This is the first weird thing about their relationship.

Not to mention, the romantic boat rides they used to take together. But was this normal then between father and son or is it just a romantic thing now, I don't know. As well as when they decided bronzing themselves naked next to each other. Not really sure what was going on there, if it was acceptable during that time or what but I do know that the reason that creators decided to send Dick to college in 1970 was because they wanted to beat the gay batman and robin allegations. It's weird as hell that they even came up with these ideas. Also the robin crossdressing. For justice, am I right?!

I feel these instances are important because it breaks any barriers they have between them. They're so (platonically for me) intimate that there's nothing but each other in their souls. One of the key reasons that their relationship is vague and intense and encompassing.

Dick is also considered Bruce's partner intellectually.

Instead of Dick listening to Bruce and following behind, as it's often shown in robin comics, they talk on equal terms. There's other moments of this shown too:

I think this is the reason why Bruce considers Dick a partner. He's not only exceedingly intelligent, but he even at a young age he's able to keep up with Bruce's thought process as an equal when even the justice league and other major adult heroes fail to do. Bruce's inventions are Dick's inventions because they played an equal role in creating them. This is why he's called the Prodigal Son.

Now onto him being a best friend and a son mix.

We know the classic example of Dick expecting to be Bruce's best man and Bruce thinking the same. But there are other moments that indicate that too.

But it isn't one sided because Dick also sees Bruce as his best friend:

Dick punching Bruce in the throat and single handedly carrying him like a sack of potatoes is just funny as hell.

Also including the fact that Dick and Bruce embody sleepover, besties behavior:

BUT HERE'S WHERE IT GETS JUICY.

Having your child act as your bestfriend is terrible for your child's mental health.

I'm speaking from personal experience but when your parent trauma dumps their life onto you at a young age, you mature emotionally much faster than you're supposed. You start becoming aware of people's thoughts and emotions at a deeper level and you start attuning yourself to others. In layman's terms: you change yourself to be able to meet your parent's high expectations and act as an emotional sponge for their anger, sorrow, disappointment, and frustration about their own life.

I'm not hesitant to admit that Dick's manipulation tactics most likely stem from this behavior. He knows what he wants and he will do anything to get it. This doesn't mean he's a bad person though. In fact I give him the highest level of respect of any character because all his intentions are good. He doesn't cheat, lie, or trick people into killing themself or harming others or bringing them down. He does it to make their lives better which is-I'm sorry, I don't have the proper words to express the multitudes of emotion I'm feeling for that.

(I nearly went into a massive monologue about how other people view his manipulation but that's for another post. )

This is also where things get complicated, and why we know Bruce and Dick as the way they are.

Dick has become so emotionally and mentally adept that he's able to pick up on others' thoughts and attitudes (Bruce specifically) before they even realize them. This is why Bruce is so dependent on Dick for everything. In one comic Garth says "Dick's a good listener."

I'm going to deviate for a minute here and include a panel that shows how this personality trait affects Dick's other roles:

Speaking more about Bruce's impact on Dick, there's this:

Aside from the huge ass painting on the wall of just the two of them-the panel is another perfect example of the complicated depth to them. They see each other as equals and when something interferes with that perception, then they start having problems. It haunts Bruce that the 8yr old he took in is equally matched to him in skill and ability but he also recognizes that Dick is too young to be able to do so. He should not have to experience the pain and responsibility of an adult but Bruce can't just get rid of him because Dick is the only one capable of keeping up with him. His heart also breaks when Dick is away (he starts crying in a panel multiple panels as Dick is leaving). For Dick he's already far used to the roles and responsibilities that he doesn't consider his age a factor as to why Bruce refuses to let him do the same things. This is a source of miscommunication between them. Bruce knows Dick can succeed at anything given to him but feels he shouldn't have to deal with those things. And Dick doesn't understand the hesitance when he's proven to have accomplished those tasks and greater before.

To expand, Dick's relationship with Bruce reminds me of Slade's relationship with Billy Wintergreen when Deathstroke tells him "You've been with me through everything...but now I have to say goodbye when you're unconscious or else I can't do it." Or something along those lines, the vibes are the same.

Oh yes, and this scene too:

Which mimics a lot of the confusion other characters have over Dick and Bruce's relationship.

But the difference between Slade and Billy vs Dick and Bruce is that Dick and Bruce's relationship is blurred on ALL fronts. There's not a single moment where Bruce has viewed Dick strictly as a son.

This leads me into the mentor aspect.

Note: while Dick knows Bruce the best, Bruce also knows Dick the best of all his children. There's a certainty to the way he speaks about Dick's abilities that he lacks when discussing his other sons'. That doesn't mean he doesn't know what they can do-he well aware and knowledgeable-it just means that his relationship with and understanding of Dick far exceeds what he has with the others.

Holy crap there's so much I'm bouncing all over the place-let me go back for second to partners.

Everyone knows this iconic scene whether you're in the fandom or not:

But few people know what comes next-

From the dawn of Batman and Robin comics, Batman has been obsessed with controlling Dick. I don't understand why he doesn't use his manipulative tactics on anyone else. There's a comic panel where Dick tells Barbara, "...you and Bruce don't need to manipulate me into doing what you guys want." It was always his way or the highway with him and Bruce reflects on this again in Batman and Robin Eternal. Dick also tells Bruce he's being pig-headed during the 1966 comic version of the Warner Brother's film and when Bruce asks him "Am I really pig-headed?" Alfred goes "hell yeah." Essentially.

(Also going to sneak this in as another example of why Dick wasn't an angry robin to a previous post

)

Ofcourse Bruce seems him as a son too:

THE FULL ON SMILE HE HAS ON HIS FACE JUST LISTENING TO DICK TALK!!!

Also in the linked previous post there's the panel of Bruce begging the judge not to take away his son from him. "Dick is like my own son!I've even changed my will so that incase of my death, Dick will get my entire fortune! You honor, I...I love that boy! Please don't take him from me!"

We already know many references about Dick being labelled Dick's son so I'll leave this aside for now.

Now here's the main point- the way Bruce and Dick interact with each other has so much history they're unable to explain themselves to others or each other. There's so many complex emotions between the two of them that sometimes even they're confused.

But seriously. What is your obsession with Dick, Bruce?

Lemme explain.

As everyone knows Dick and Clark are best friends. They are so close to the point where Bruce actually sweeps the stuff off his desk in the batcave and says "LET ME JUST GET RID OF ALL OUR TROPHIES. I'LL JUST MAKE ROOM FOR THE ADVENTURES OF SUPERMAN AND ROBIN INSTEAD!"

WTFFFFF BRUCE. WHY ARE YOU GETTING JEALOUS OF YOUR 15YR OLD'S FRIENDSHIP?

Oh, yes, what trophies am I talking about? Trophies of their battles together of course!

Which means the batcave is memorabilia of their time together. You know what that also means? It means that Bruce sulks in the Batcave because in the cave, he can literally surround himself with the time he spent with Dick.

Bruce is so abnormal about Dick. He sees Dick as an all in one. Every single relationship category you can think of, Bruce has bundled it up and put it into Dick. If all their various relationships became a physical string, Bruce would have a leash on Dick that resembles a thick, corded rope. So if you cut one thread of, say, friendship, the rope won't tear become the other threads of partnership, family, and other ambiguous threads would still hold them together.

Bruce has a leash on Dick but something Dick doesn't know and Bruce won't admit is that Dick has a leash on him too.

HERE'S THE INSECURITY WITH DICK AGAIN. THE MAN THINKS THE WORLD OF DICK BUT HE'S HORRIFIED AT THE THOUGHT, AT THE POSSIBILITY, THAT DICK DOESN'T FEEL THE SAME OF HIM.

He's constantly seeking reassurance of his place with Dick through the only way he knows how-manipulation. While Bruce consistently distances himself from his son, he's doing it on purpose so Dick will come running back to him. I mean-isn't that what he did with Jason? Expelling Dick in fury and fear and not telling Dick about taking in a new robin?

In the comic Dick drops by and tells him "I found out through a newspaper and since I haven't been robin..." to which Bruce responds horrified and guilty. He knows what he's doing. He just doesn't want to get caught as to why.

Others have picked on this obsession he has with Dick too:

Someone clearly knew the importance of Nightwing to Batman. They knew what his death would do to him. And in response Bruce went out of his way-to a foreign land-just to take revenge on the man who almost took ���his boy” away from him. Leaving with a parting promise, an oath, to hunt down the other one and leave him crippled for life too. Did Batman know KG Beast would survive or did he just leave it up to fate?

In the previous panel, apart from KG Beast calling Dick "your boy" to Batman, it's only implied though. So how do we know if Dick really does have that much weight to Bruce? Well not only is it confirmed, it is engraved in stone:

And when the blast nearly kills Dick, Bruce nearly kills the man who did it. WITH A GUN.

Also him trying to strangle Lex Luthor to death before Lex chokes out in between stolen gasps that Dick's not actually dead but he will be if Bruce continues.

Did you know that the dead Robin in the Superman vs Batman movie was confirmed to be Dick? Yeah. That says a lot right there.

Brothers

I'm not going to get into their brother relationship because that involves how Alfred treats Dick as a son rather than a grandson and is opening a whole new mansion of stuff so I'm going to wrap this up here and say the two of them are a LOT.

Bruce and Dick's relationship is impossible to define and that's why they keep ending up fighting. Their relationship doesn't have clear boundaries and since each type of relationship (brotherhood, father/son, partnership, friendship, colleagues, idols&pedestals) has it's own unique problems, and because the two of them alone are all those things, they have all the problems of each of these categories combined. But they also have all the benefits. Inseparably entwined these two.

[yanderes-galore]

A romantic concept of Darth Maul (Star Wars) if you will?

Sure! I think he's a neat (and tragic) character within the universe he's in. Although at the same time... his motivations are rather simple.

Yandere! Darth Maul Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Violence, Murder, Kidnapping, Isolation, Biting, Marking, Forced relationship.

Maul, like Vader, is another apprentice manipulated by the Sith.

Except his manipulation came first.

From a young age he was fed the seeds of being a Sith due to his fighting prowess.

Nowadays all he really knows is hate.

There's just... so much to hate.

Especially after Kenobi sent him into exile.

Maul, despite having his mind put back together, probably never recovered from his thirteen years of isolation on a trash planet.

Maul is described as obsessive already in canon.

He's this way towards power, revenge, hatred, and rage.

He embodies so many negative emotions due to the Sith who manipulated him.

Using his training, Maul survived death through hate and became ruthless and manipulative.

He's not afraid to use fear to make others obey him.

Although... He is not devoid of care.

Maul is shown to care for his mother and brother(s).

So if he found interest in someone to be his partner, that care is shown even if he's mostly intimidating.

Although, his behavior isn't going to change much just because he cares about you.

Maul is the type of person to murder innocents to lure Jedi out to kill.

Naturally Maul will also want to isolate his obsession.

He feels you're all he needs and you're one of his obsessions.

I can see Maul breaking a Jedi in to corrupt them if he likes them romantically.

It would drive him insane at first as he's supposed to kill Jedi.

But the idea of breaking this specific one in, of corrupting them, making them his...

He'll let that slide.

Other alternatives include you not being Jedi or Sith, probably still Force Sensitive but you haven't chosen a path.

That or you're an adult Sith he found a way to manipulate into listening to him. (Like an apprentice or something after your own master was slain....)

Regardless, as expected of a Sith like him, people will die.

Maul has been shown he's capable of kidnapping if it aids him, and obviously murder is instinct.

That alone makes him terrifying.

But when he takes over Mandalore?

Even worse.

Maul does anything for power... and with that power he plans to make you obey him too.

Maul seems like he'd break you down just to build you back up.

He enjoys obedience, be that willingly or through fear.

The love of a Sith is twisted, especially with Maul.

While Vader has loved once and would seem more "caring" to the one he adores.

Maul has always known being a killing machine.

His love for you would be more rough, maybe primal in a way.

He's possessive, I can see Maul nibbling on his obsession's neck or shoulder to vent that.

Maul doesn't plan to attack you or hurt you physically (much).

It's those around you who are in the most trouble.

Normally, in Maul's culture, the female chooses the male.

However, it's obvious he's playing the rules differently here (especially if you aren't even female or a different race)

You can't choose any other partner if they're dead, right?

Even then I imagine Maul still tries courting you, it's just you... don't have much of a choice but to accept him?

You can barely even speak to others without hearing that signature noise of a saber being activated.

You and his family are what he cares for other than revenge and power.

Although, in Maul's life, he loses his family eventually.

When left with nothing else, Maul becomes even more suffocating.

He hides you away, and as much as he'd rather not, restrains you.

You're the only person he has now, the only one he needs.

To him, you should feel the same way.

He's your partner, your mate, you'll need him as much as he needs you if he isolates you

Maul is a yandere who would force you to need him.

He'll force you to be addicted to him, to give into desire and have him as yours.

Why fight him when he can give you all you want?

He can read you, he can give everything...

Just give in to him...

You're his to corrupt, his to have, his love... and ultimately, his to own.

[sepublic]

In lieu of my latest reblog about people taking compelling characters and projecting their writing onto some other (usually white) dude, I want to bring up a post I had drafted all the way back from April, but never posted because at the time I still had enough patience not to. But now is different. I do think this analysis is a bit outdated because it doesn’t consider the mediocre white dude angle of Belos that I find paramount, but it’s good enough for my repurposed point.

-

            I find it funny when some people complain that the narrative was unfair to Belos despite his “trauma” and circumstances, like there aren’t multiple characters out there who parallel his issues, and get sympathy AND a redemption, in all but one case! Belos is narratively condemned not for what he has in common with others, but for what sets him apart, particularly his stubborn ego. Cases in point;

         “Belos deserved to have sympathy for having an unhealthy attachment to his more confident sibling that was mixed with resentment over being abandoned for someone else, culminating in guilt over hurting them and regretting it!”

         Lilith exists. She’s motivated by a massive inferiority complex with Eda, Gwen favors her. She’s clearly salty about Eda going off to have fun with Raine, and claims to Luz that she’s Eda’s ‘real’ family. She cursed her sister and felt enormous guilt over it… But in the end, Lilith IS given sympathy by the narrative, and the chance to redeem herself. And she takes just that.

         A lot of the people claiming Belos deserved better theorize that stabbing Caleb was an accident, and you know what? So was the permanence of Eda’s curse, Lilith expected it to only last a day and certainly not transform her sister. But Lilith still owned up. And she learned to make other friends while respecting Eda’s boundaries.

         “Belos was an orphan raised in a culture that encouraged genocide and a hatred of wild magic!”

         Caleb exists, he went through the exact same childhood as Philip, but still chose to change. And while they weren’t orphans at the time, Hunter and the Collector were also raised on genocide, taught to find wild/Titan magic apprehensive. But they loved it instead.

         “But Belos actually lost his brother, his loved one died!”

         So did Hunter’s! And he was shown to be snappy and aggressive, pouring himself into a mission to cope! But he still owned up, apologized to Willow for rebuking her. He lost Flapjack, and instead of making replicas of his lost loved one to keep to himself, discarding anyone that wasn’t close enough, Hunter made a diverse array of palismen for other kids, to give them the loving relationship he lost! Even his own palisman was clearly carved to be different from Flapjack, reminiscent but still their own thing.

         Then there’s Darius, who lost his mentor the previous Golden Guard; His own ‘Caleb’, so to speak! And he was also unpleasant about it, he took his grief out on Hunter, who had nothing to do with this! The canon audio diaries even confirm the apprehension has been going for a while… But Darius realized he was wrong to have projected onto Hunter, made up for this by practically adopting the kid and giving this kid the happy ending his mentor didn’t have; Passing the cycle of kindness the Golden Guard started. And his own grief is pointed out to the audience by Hunter himself.

         “They should’ve shown how having a hero complex and a desire to live out a fantasy can corrupt anyone!”

         Luz and the Collector. Luz herself makes these comparisons for Belos, and there were times where she hurt her friends trying to live out her fantasy, and/or planned to leave them under the impression she was doing the ‘right thing’. Luz makes a legitimate consideration that she could’ve been Belos, if she refused to listen to others and change. But Luz owned up! As did the Collector, whose escapism and wish to play the role of the ‘hero’, in this case Luz, causes them to do some pretty terrible things. But they still change after being called out, and are still given sympathy over the loneliness and trauma that fueled their escapism, as was Luz.

"Philip struggled with getting over a different type of fantasy, one that relied upon him conquering and hurting others!"

As did King! And King got over that, he quickly learned that other people would always be more important than his fantasies, even if the 'sacrifices' were a lot more minor. King started off the same, the difference is that he still grew up and that's why we judge his antics as so much more light-hearted.

         “Well that’s not fair, Philip’s examples were more extreme!”

         How about Eda’s curse? Belos never brings up his other sources of trauma as an excuse for his actions, but you know what he does invoke? His curse, claiming to Hunter and Luz that it forced him to act certain ways. But we see Eda, who got a rawer deal with her curse; She didn’t bring it upon herself, as Belos did. She legitimately loses control when it takes over. She scarred and disabled her father because of it, and you know what?

         Eda never uses her curse as an excuse. She never lets that justify what she’s done to people, and she even befriends the creature at the source of her curse, the Owl Beast. The curse she deals with is objectively worse, objectively more unfair, than Belos’. But it’s only Belos who actually cites his curse as an excuse, and the palismen at the source of it? He kills them.

         “Belos’ cursed form is treated as ugly and evil!”

         The palismen amalgam in his mind looked almost exactly the same, to the point where Hunter, who had seen Belos’ cursed form in person before, thought they were identical. But in the end, the palismen amalgam, despite resembling Belos’ cursed form, is a sympathetic and tragic victim who is murdered. Luz and Hunter mistaking him for Belos is justified, but it’s also still regrettable that they are judged by appearances.

         “It hurts people to sacrifice their morals for the greater good, you know!”

         Raine did that, they felt compelled to drag Darius and Eberwolf (one of whom was a childhood friend) into a murder-suicide, because as far as they knew, they were already going to be caught and executed, so may as well take their oppressors down with them! And they aren’t called out for it, because they couldn’t have known about Darius’ actual intentions…

         Because in the end, sometimes you have to punch a fascist, and sometimes you have to oppose a friend or loved one because they took the fascists’ side. It’s why Lilith is expected to change for Eda, not the other way around. Raine is not the aggressor here, it’s all from the principle of self-defense for themselves and the isles as a whole.

         And in the end, it’s because Raine is approaching from a place of actual good intent and moral concern that there are lines they still refuse to cross; As soon as they learn about Luz and King, they sabotage their own plans because they refuse to orphan these kids they just found out about for the ‘greater good’. When one of those very kids, Luz, makes Raine promise to keep Eda safe, you can see the conflict between their morals and their obligations in their eyes as Eda accepts the Bard sigil, and ultimately Raine powers through the draining spell to save Eda’s life, simply because Luz asked them to.

         I’ve talked since their debut of how Raine has some similarities to Belos, in particular how they both work their whole lives to infiltrate a group from within to topple it, even as they publicly support it as a celebrated leader. They both had to lie and work under the radar, and make effective rhetoric; They each wear their own masks. Raine has to constantly lie to and rebuke Eda about being brainwashed, and we can see the moral agony it gives them!

         But Raine is opposed to a legitimate threat, whereas Belos is completely making one up; Raine has to work under the micro-management of tyrants with control over them, Philip has been free from his colony for centuries, and even after finding out Gravesfield gave up on its witch hunting mission in the present, still traps himself of his own will. Belos feels no guilt for any of his ‘necessary evil’.

         Raine had actual morals unlike Belos that they did sacrifice, for an actual greater good, and they actually hurt over these choices. They dedicated their whole life to stop a dark and twisted parallel, which makes their inclusion in the finale as the only person outside of the core trio to help against Belos all the more deserved; They even help deliver the killing blows. And Raine is rewarded for all of their effort, allowed to see it come to fruition and rest happily afterwards, because they really were sincere, and actually did make sacrifices, something Belos preaches but never follows. Most importantly, Raine knew they couldn’t justify everything even for their morally-justified mission.

         “Belos was still legitimately wronged by Caleb for nothing, he didn’t deserve to be abandoned!”

         Even if we believe Caleb did ‘abandon’ Philip or whatever; The Collector was legitimately wronged by the Titan, imprisoned and isolated for millennia despite being innocent. But while he justifiably calls the Titan a bully, he never takes this out on King, or any other Titan for that matter, remembering the rest with love. Nor is the Collector expected to forgive the Titan; The Titan accepts she made the wrong call. After all, imprisoning the Collector left them in a vulnerable state to be exploited by Belos, and give him the draining spell…

         The Titan and Caleb’s mistakes were very much that, but the Collector matured for others, without needing an apology from the dead person who wronged him. And based on what we see of Belos’ memories, Caleb probably DID get to deliver that apology when he was alive, and Philip still insisted on being bitter!

         “His only childhood friend just ditched him for someone else!”

         That’s what happened to Willow, and that’s how she understood it for most of her life; Amity leaving her behind because she was too weak, and kids like Boscha and Skara were more popular, stronger, etc. But not only does the show say her rage against Amity is totally warranted and that the onus is on Amity to apologize, even if she didn’t choose to leave Willow (keep in mind she still saw Willow as a weak person to protect without input, as we later see in Labyrinth Runners)…

         Willow is still kind. She still opts to be compassionate to Gus, and to Luz, and in general a nurturing person despite her abandonment. And when Willow is given the chance to take revenge on Boscha by stealing her glory in Grudgby, she doesn’t kick the girl while she’s down to do so; But Willow is also allowed to still hold anger towards Boscha, as we see in Season 3. And assuming Caleb wasn’t malicious about leaving Philip behind, we clearly see how he welcomes his brother back and wants things to get better, just as Amity does; He had his own side of the story. And Willow doesn’t kill Amity despite being primed to very easily do so…

"But imagine finding out they CHOSE to leave you, when you thought they didn't!"

Camila?!?! In fact, Camila was THE precedent for this, and people went and applied her tragic scene to Philip to make HIM into some angsty sadboi! And last I checked, Camila didn't exactly murder Luz... Plus, Philip had infinitely more time to see Caleb and Evelyn interact, and thus figure out that Caleb wasn't being kidnapped or brainwashed; Compare that to Camila who is just dunked into that situation out of nowhere, and is barely even adjusting to Vee's existence on top of finding out Luz was someplace else the entire time, and dealing with Jacob.

"A lot of family members at least start off as well-intentioned when hurting loved ones, they could've shown that!"

Bold of you to assume that Belos' selfish entitlement towards Caleb is the same as Camila or Gwen's legitimate concerns for their daughters; They did unconditionally love and they were misguided. But when shown they were causing pain, they actually shifted gears instead of focusing on how they were fight because they knew better. And what they were doing WAS still harmful, even though they DID care.

         “Belos was probably a weirdo himself, and suffered from internalized hatred for his deviancy!”

         Lilith dyed her hair to fit in with the coven, and be taken seriously. Amity suppressed herself to be a stoic perfectionist, constantly trying to justify her own existence as she says; She had to work to be good at magic while others like Gus, Emira, and Edric were naturally talented, and was made to hate those who weren’t successful as witches. Hunter too loathed his own lack of bile magic!

         Most tellingly, Camila herself was taught to hide her weirdness, grew up thinking she was successful for doing that, and even tried to impose the same on Luz because of that misconception! But Camila realized what was done to her was wrong, and the same applied to her daughter; Accepting Luz’s weirdness meant accepting her own.

         “Even if he still chose to double down in villainy, Belos could’ve at least been given a moment where he was sympathetic, where his sadness was shown, before nevertheless deciding his fate!”

         Kikimora had an entire episode where she agonized over her obligations to a mother that seemed low key abusive, given her threat to disown her. We see her hesitate, cry, and be legitimately disappointed when she’s rewarded for staying with Belos by ‘getting to live’, a reward that doesn’t even last by the Day of Unity! Even after Kikimora makes her choice to betray Luz and Amity, we still get a final scene of her looking uncertain and even regretful of her decision, before she commits. Kikimora isn’t redeemed but is still humanized, despite being less human than Belos, so to speak.

         She’s even a dark parallel to Lilith, having jealousy towards the Golden Guard, an emotionally abusive mother, and an inferiority complex towards other members of the coven despite working directly with Belos! And she is given many chances to escape Belos, a few months where she is legitimately free from him, and chooses to remain in her ways because Kikimora’s difference with Lilith isn’t that life was more unfair to her, it’s that she refused to change.

         Now this is a bit out there, but there’s also the other Coven Heads! Mason, Vitimir, Hettie, and Osran! The show was shortened, so who knows what they could’ve provided for the story… Mason, Hettie, and Osran especially, since they’re not included amongst the coven head loyalists who still cling to power, even after Belos’ death. The show could’ve easily set up sympathetic moments to indicate a possibility of change, paying off in the epilogue; But because of Disney, you can’t blame the writers for not delivering everything they could’ve.

         “How about a character who was just… an asshole, no outside reason given?”

         Boscha, who was popular and privileged. While she does allude to some pressures that motivate her, as far as we know, there wasn’t really anyone or anything that made her be so cruel towards those she perceives as lesser. But despite this, Willow doesn’t see any point in trying to take Boscha’s spotlight as a Grudgby captain, when offered by her teammates; She doesn’t kick Boscha when she’s down. And Boscha is ultimately still recognized as unhappy with the loss of her friends, so even if she does do egregious things during the Collector’s reign, Amity offers Boscha the chance to become better and improve, as she did. And she takes it!

         “Well, none of these characters had to grapple with having done things nearly as bad as Belos!”

         And why do you think that is? Why are Belos’ sins so monumental in comparison, how did they get so bad? Because he kept refusing to change, kept refusing each opportunity, and got worse because of that. His first confirmed murder was Caleb, who right beforehand embraced his brother during what appeared to be a manifestation of the curse. But Philip still chose to commit his first sin despite receiving such unconditional sympathy, because he wanted control, not happiness. He didn’t start off as a genocidal dictator, he worked his way up to that over centuries.

         “They make it seem like Belos was born evil!”

         Our earliest chronological appearances of Philip are as a happy, carefree child who plays games with the brother he loves and looks up to; That isn’t the portrayal of someone ‘born’ evil. This is the portrayal of someone who became that way, over time, because he refused to concede anything to anyone, and wore away what decency he had across centuries, until we see the Emperor that Belos is when the show starts.

         An evil dictator who ravaged an entire world for hundreds of years came from an innocent little kid, and Luz becomes self-aware of how this can apply to her, even as she’s reminded that she also ISN’T like Belos because of this critical reflection and willingness to listen. Belos, on the other hand, consciously cultivated an echo chamber for centuries, killing any Grimwalker he felt disagreed with him, despite their unconditional love and support. He deliberately shut himself off from the isles and ignored the kindness of others.

         Bump reminds Faust that it’s disingenuous to project malice onto children who often simply don’t know any better, and just need to be given a chance to be taught and educated. But kids also have to take initiative to mature when they get older, hence why we hold adults more responsible; The established logic is that Belos wasn’t an evil child, he was simply a child who never grew up and that’s where his evil came from, rather than being some pre-existing source.

         To be honest, I think the narrative doesn’t bother showing sympathy to Belos over his trauma because he’s already HAD more than enough sympathy, across centuries, from his brother, the Grimwalkers, his followers, even Luz and the Collector! So the story doesn’t feel the need to waste tears on someone who already got them, and instead focuses sympathy to characters who haven’t received as much, if any; People like Lilith, Amity, Hunter, etc.

         Belos is the culmination of other characters’ traumas (who prove you can still choose to be better and happier despite these things), and was practically coddled by the people in his life for it. But he still chose to be bitter, never opened up to accept help, and his rejection brought even more pain that he could only blame on himself. Belos’ only tragedy is his refusal to change for the better; Even the narrative has made it clear he had chances, tears wept for him by people he knew.

He is a mirror to so many characters, what could’ve happened if they looked at their own pain and used it as justification to continue lashing out, because clearly they are the underdog heroes who have been wronged and are fighting against an injustice, right? The hero of their own story, if you will. Hell, we still also get that with Kikimora, as I just said! What I’ve listed is not a double standard, but rather proof that Belos was not uniquely condemned by his circumstances, for he is alike many characters as I mentioned. And Belos does not need to be portrayed “sympathetically” in order for the audience to understand the relevance of these parallels; Namely, that Belos has no excuse to still be like this when those similar nevertheless choose not to be cruel, and will accept others’ compassion.

         And besides, with how the show was shortened… Who’s to say the writers didn’t plan to throw Belos a sympathetic moment of genuine loneliness, before doubling down? Not that they really would’ve needed to. But if they planned it, the writers had to leave it out to prioritize the weirdos this show is actually about, due to the shortening.

[shalotttower]

A Heart Deceived

Title: A Heart Deceived

Fandom: Far Cry 5

Characters: Jacob Seed x Reader (female)

Summary: AU where soulmates share the same marking and Jacob doesn't have to brand you any further.

Word count: 2900+

Notes: soulmates, yandere!Jacob Seed, Reader is not the Deputy, captivity, violence, emotional manipulation, dub-con kissing, scars and injuries description: Reader has a mutilated ear and facial scars from a wolf attack and is not happy about it, a mild form of Stockholm Syndrome.

His fingers are surprisingly gentle. You don't expect it from him, the gentleness, Jacob is not kind or caring. Jacob is not warm, not nurturing, not indulgent. Yet his thumb skims across your jaw with quiet focus. Down the side of your neck, up your chin to follow the slanted line there, then it repeats the whole procedure on a different scar. They had long healed by now and turned into uneven ridges of mismatched tissue.

It hurt when the damned wolf bit you, the next day, and for many following days; the effective and precise killing machine aimed for the throat, and if you didn't twist the last moment, would have succeeded.

Jacob never punished the wolf, it was serving its purpose, while you, you were supposed to think before acting and understand the possible consequences.

The pain could be endured and later forgotten, what could not was the humiliation of lying on the dirty ground and the shiny view of Jacob's boots growing larger until they stopped in the line of your vision. A moment of painful awareness: the escape attempt which failed so abruptly and so brutally had become laughable. Jacob grabbed your hair and shook you like a disobedient puppy. "That's on you, sweetheart. Be wary of the quiet ones, they say."

Those last words sounded as if he were talking to himself, rather than anyone else.

"I warned you."

He did.

Jacob is right, not in everything, but in many things. One can try and deny it, another can scoff, but the bottom line is the same: Jacob is right in many things, and at times it's better to listen. Even despite an involuntary gagging reaction.

Your heart hammered and every single beat of it brought to the surface what you already knew — there would be no other attempts. The paleness from fear or perhaps blood loss must've shown on your face, because he let go of you and crouched down. "Pathetic."

It lacked genuine heat, disappointment, or any emotion. Being disappointed would mean that Jacob expected something in the first place. He pulled off his jacket and pressed it to your face, stemming the bleeding. The ground seemed more interesting than ever, dry soil dotted with rocks and grass blades scattered everywhere, trampled by people's feet.

You don't want to look at him or acknowledge the touch to a small sword on your wrist, identical to the one above his left elbow. The mark is a clean reminder and a binding claim for life. You don't want to see it or remember how Jacob's face twisted when he realized just who you were.

Like someone had slapped him.

A lot has happened; Montana turned different from what you saw on TV and the world suddenly shifted under your feet, rearranged from a little road trip across the states into his territory, his commands, his people. A part of you — a foolish, soft part — wished you could've met under different circumstances, in a different place and you told him once about it in a moment of weakness. Jacob stilled at first, but then kept cleaning his gun. "We're here, sweetheart. Nothing we can do 'bout it."

Could've beens and never happeneds weren't worth wasting thoughts on.

Now Jacob is tracing your scars. He's not handsome, not really, there's too much roughness to the lines of his face, dark circles and untrimmed beard, but... you frown. You don't know how to describe Jacob Seed or why you even bother trying. It's odd to think about him this way. Weird.

Jacob catches your eyes. "What?"

You close them. "Nothing."

He makes a noncommittal sound, then leans in. The kiss to your forehead is unexpected and brief. A lot of them are — quick kisses on your temple when Jacob thinks you're asleep, on your nape when he leaves the bed before dawn. They make you wonder just what he wants from you.

He never expects affection back.

Doesn't try anything further, and you both are suspended in this limbo, neither being the first to break it, nor acknowledge its growing significance with every passing day. One part of you craves it, to yield in a different way, not because it is required, but because you want, yet Jacob doesn't ask, so perhaps it's for the better.

Another gets nauseous. He breaks people. Like dry twigs, discarding the pieces when they have no more use. You've seen his Chosen training until they begged, cried and crawled, their pride crushed along with the body.

There are days you can't bear looking at him.

***

Sometimes, sometimes, you wish him dead and gone from the world, then the mark on your wrist aches like a fresh wound.

"When will you take off the chain?" You ask and wiggle your foot a bit. It's long enough to reach the bathroom, to wander around the quarters, but not to walk outside. Jacob doesn't look up from his book. The cover is worn out and you suspect he read it many times already, military stuff. Strategy. Survival tactics, you have no idea.

"When I know you've learned your lesson."

So, not today.

You sigh and roll onto your stomach. "It's stupid."

He doesn't respond.

It's annoying more than anything. Reason — you're his soulmate, not some runaway cow ready to get lost in Montana wilderness — didn't help and only gained you a blank stare followed by a lock click. The chain rattles with each movement, loud and distracting; Jacob just keeps reading as if nothing happens.

Sometimes, sometimes, you catch yourself thinking that this isn't so bad after all. He treats you well for a cult leader: fed, clothed, clean, sheltered. Compared to the cages his future Chosen sleep in, you don't get to complain. You have a comfortable bed instead of cold dirty floor, normal meals rather than a chunk of raw meat, privacy and silence without old school music 24/7.

You frown. No, it's not nice. It's Stockholm Syndrome, plain and simple. You should be free, away from this place.

"Are you angry?"

Jacob turns another page. "No."

His room smells of pine wood and gun oil, with an undertone of metal. The furniture is scarce and practical. A wardrobe, a desk with a radio placed on top, one bookshelf. Bare walls except for a giant map pinned opposite the bed; you've memorized all the markings on it during your stay. The areas which got liberated by Deputy are red, his outposts are circled in blue. Jacob doesn't talk about Deputy much, but the way he clenches his jaw over the radio frequency makes you think they must be a real pain in the ass.

Secretly you hope they blow Eden's Gate HQ to pieces soon.

What would it mean for you?

These are questions, vague and inappropriately timed, coming to mind. What if Deputy happens to eventually tear the Project apart? They escaped John, escaped Jacob and you were to personally witness his foul mood for two days straight. You overhear bits and pieces of conversations, the Chosen talk if they think no one listens — Deputy is strong and clever. Persistent and cunning. Maybe that's the reason Jacob's so obsessed with them.

What if...

You glance at him from under your eyelashes and rub the mark. They say there's a connection between soulmates. If one dies, another experiences it on a physical level. Jacob said that was bullshit. His brother didn't confirm or deny when you asked him after a sermon.

Joseph Seed unnerves you. Not just because he believes himself to be God's vessel. There is something in his voice, quiet and soothing like the distant rolls of thunder, it raises goosebumps when he starts preaching and you're forced to sit through it. Something in his eyes behind yellow-tinted glasses sends shivers down your spine, very little to do with his religious fanaticism.

What would you feel if Jacob died?

The thought creates an unpleasant twist in your stomach, unwanted bond or not, it leaves you queasy. You curl on the bed. Jacob has reading glasses, you barely held back a snort the first time you saw them propped up his nose. He shoots a flat look from above the pages but doesn't comment on your inquisitive stare.

By now you know when to speak and to remain silent (mostly). He dislikes unruly ones and finds satisfaction showing them just how insignificant they are, how mistaken in every single sense. Weak. That's why you annoy him mildly when feeling particularly brave or in need of interaction, but never play soldier or power. It triggers something which is best avoided, gets people punished, then shot in front of others. Or sent for trials, you're not sure which is worse.

Jacob marks a page and sets the book aside. "What?"

"What 'what'?" You ask back, fiddling with the hem of a grey camouflage shirt. It's way too big on your frame, Jacob likes the look of it, judging by how much of your wardrobe consists of his stuff now that you don't leave the room.

"I can hear the wheels in your head turning, spit it out."

"What would happen to me if something... happened to you?"

You're afraid of saying 'if you die' because it's final, even though Jacob seems invincible most of the times. A mountain against hurricanes. Yet everyone dies eventually and the Deputy keeps winning against all odds set before them.

"Nothing. Joseph takes care of you."

This is news, and frankly not the answer you hoped for.

('You'd go free' was. He didn't say 'I won't die' either.)

Tension seeps into your shoulders without a conscious thought. "Why? I am nobody to him."

"You are my soulmate," Jacob replies, simple as that, like it explains everything. Perhaps in their cult world it does, but not yours.

"So?"

He pats his thigh.

It's a gesture without much interpretation required, but you stay rooted on the bed. Cautious. You've grown familiar with each other after living together for months — sharing a space tends to do this to people — still tonight is different, full with awkwardness you haven't felt since that time he walked in on you changing.

Jacob's stare is intense. Heavy, cold blue eyes linger on your wrist where the sword surrounded by flames peeks from under the long sleeve. You swallow a lump in your throat and get up on unsteady legs.

"So he will do it out of memory. You're family, pup, whether you wish it or not."

With the same caution you sit on his lap, war memories written in pink-red skin decorate his face. Just like yours, you think, the only difference is the place and origin. There's something intimate about being like this. Jacob holds you in place once you settle down, not comfortable, but not exactly uncomfortable either.

"Never took you for a cuddly type," you say to shield yourself from growing unease. "Why the change?"

Jacob's thumb presses to the corner of your lips. "Got tired of those puppy eyes staring at me the whole evening, sweetheart. You can have a closer look."

"I don't have puppy eyes. And maybe I like looking from afar."

"Yeah?"

His beard has a prickly feeling to it.

You know your face will never be the same after what happened. From his point of view, Jacob can probably see where the scars begin in the hairline, then continue downwards only an inch away from your eye; small miracles and such. Half of your ear is missing, a good solid chunk. It's not a nice look.

"Don't touch them," you mutter.

You don't mean to share your thoughts in such an abrupt manner, but these intimate moments become a source of discomfort, like a sharp, twisting knife. Jacob doesn't flinch at the sight, he probably saw worse things, still it feels humiliating being reminded of your shortcomings and the fact that this is your face — permanently marked.

Jacob doesn't stop.

"Beauty dies fast, darlin'," he says slowly. "This here... this'll stay."

He never sugarcoats anything. Never lies to spare feelings, ruthless and pragmatic with a clear understanding of what matters and what doesn't. Only the weak need empty reassurances; his words. You hate this side of Jacob just as much as admire it on occasion, right now you wish he said something else. Beauty dies fast.

"Thank you Jacob, very comforting. Top ten phrases you should tell someone who got mauled by a Judge." You cross your arms, wondering why the hell are you talking about this. With Jacob. The worst choice possible to bring up sensitive topics, or maybe the only one, since there's not a lot of people around anyway.

"I ain't here to stroke your ego, sweetheart. This," he traces a scar, "is a lesson to remember. Next time when thinking 'bout running — think again and think good."

There will be no next time regardless of how he phrases it. The chain rattles every night when you shift under the blankets and falls down with an annoying bang as soon as you get up. There's nowhere to run too, the Whitetail Mountains belong to Jacob, he rules them like a king would rule his kingdom, with iron fist and strict order, and who knows what the local Resistance will do to you if they catch you first.

If they figure out whose soulmate you are.

You're trapped between the Deputy destroying outposts and Jacob hunting them across the region, like a mouse stuck in a corner while cats keep prowling around.

The sky outside has an orange-pink hue, casting Jacob's face into soft light and deep shadows. He takes off his glasses, setting them on the book's cover, then wipes a stray tear from the corner of your eye. "You gonna cry over looks?"

You sniffle. "Yes. I wish I never met you."

He stiffens. For a second you worry it might have pushed a wrong button. Jacob never hurt you physically, still there's a healthy dose of fear, not necessarily born out of past experiences. At times his presence just radiates off in silent waves so thick you can feel them crashing into yourself before he walks away and doesn't return for days, leaving you alone with the Chosen stationed behind the doors to watch over and report back to their Herald.

Jacob leans closer until your foreheads almost press into each other.

He doesn't initiate touch often. Once in a while he lets you sleep on his arm instead of a pillow or allows you to sit closer than usual during meals, but that's it. There are boundaries set, most of them are unspoken rules which you picked up along the way: you can ask questions and be generally yourself within reason — as long as it doesn't border on disrespect, Jacob will tolerate occasional attitude in very small doses; you can request certain items provided he approves; he prefers silence during breakfast.

Never challenge him publicly and don't talk bad about his siblings.

This confession can't be taken back, nor do you wish to, because it's true. You regret meeting him, and it was much better to wonder and guess, create images of a faceless man somewhere in the depths of your mind and fantasize about possibilities. How does one even go back to normal life after this?

(Not that any chance of doing so exists in the foreseeable future.)

"I figured, darlin'," Jacob says finally. His voice lacks anger, as if he expected those words one day or another, Jacob isn't naive or stupid and is surprisingly aware of himself in a lot of matters, of the fact that very little would want to end up where he dragged you and being imprisoned under the heavy metal chain doesn't add to fond memories either. "Fair enough."

In all months you two lived together, sharing food and space, in all months, he never kissed you.

Now he does.

His lips are chapped, dry and slightly rough.

You find yourself going rigid at first, unsure what to make out of it. It's different from what you imagined, the fantasy version seemed more... violent and harsh, less intimate and private. He breaks the kiss briefly and then resumes it again.

Slow-slow-quick, Jacob steals your breath away bit by bit until your head spins, until your hands feel clammy and then, when you think you can't take it any longer, he pulls back.

"Won't apologize 'bout the scars, pup. You deserved a lesson."

Your throat feels parched.

"But not of this kind. Never wanted it for you."

It doesn't sound apologetic, neither regretful, but it is what it is, probably the closest to it Jacob will ever be capable of. His hand strokes the back of your neck in slow and repetitive circles, and in an odd way, it does seem soothing.

He takes you to bed minutes later, maneuvers you closer under the sheets and turns off the light. The window is open letting in the sounds of evening wildlife: crickets chirp loudly nearby, some owl hoots in the distance; Montana smells different than other states. Sharper, wilder. You lie like this for a bit, curled against his side and he's always so fucking warm, a human furnace incarnate.

"The moment I saw the marking — I wished you never met me too."

[helpfandom]

Analysis on YANDERE PLATONIC TAS villains. Pt2

Harley Quinn

Joker

Harley + Joker [Reluctant team-up, they want nothing to do with each other]

Killer Croc

Scarecrow

Penguin

TW: Use of the word 'Mommy', 'Daddy', and Dumb-ifying/Babying.

For the Yandere Archtypes: https://www.tumblr.com/helpfandom/724022554446135296/types-of-yandere?source=share Once, again, yandere_auxillary made it, I just can't find them for some reason.

I set apart Harley and Joker because they would be different depending on if they are together or not, hence why there are two versions of each. One alone, and one together.

Harley: See, her characteristics when alone would be, Impulsive, Delusional, Sadistic, and Clingy. Sadistic and Clingy are supposed as opposing forces, but it's actually not true. Her sadism comes from the fact that she doesn't mind see you get hurt trying to escape, {and even slightly enjoys it}. Her clinginess comes from never having this feeling before as a kid, or even towards a kid, and her being confused, even a little scared of this feeling. She doesn't try to find out more about you, she's delusional after all, she truly thinks that you're just like her. Her delusions are something that you will just have to deal with, as she completely believes that you love her too. To break her delusions would end with Reader being harmed physically, or to end up locked alone in a room, waiting for her to open up the door and let you back out. She's impulsive in that she is quick to kidnap, not even knowing your name at that point, but knows she wants to be your Momma. She doesn't stalk you, she's too impatient for that, but she keeps you in her mind. The next time she sees you, she attempts to kidnap you. She would fight Joker for you. She's not always going to be there for you to be considered her 'kid', nor will she truly take care of you fully. Not enough for a developing child. "Momma's here!~ Come here baby, Mommy got some new jewelry for her baby. Just let Mommy take care of you!"

Joker: Yikes. Good luck. Sadistic, Impulsive, Possessive, some of the worst traits to have. He would be fully willing to push you into acid like he fell into, if it meant having you stick around with him. He would not entertain the idea of you even having other parents. Not even Harley could attempt to take you away from him. He's always been shown to be impulsive, and possessive, with Episode 47, season 1, when Harley teams with Poison Ivy. Imagine that, but much much worse. He would refuse to let anyone get close to you. He would feel nothing but glee when you try to escape, only to be harmed by his hyena's. He found a kid {you} and decided to try to poison you against Batman, quickly kidnapping you and taking you home. Finding your uncaring attitude intriguing and hilarious. He will constantly take you places, only to kill or threaten the people who try to help you, and then take you back home where he tries to get you to help with a plan. He's gritting his teeth together, fed up with you refusing to help him. "Listen here kid. You're going to help me with my next thing, or your other-family says beddy bye."

Harley + Joker: Impulsive is the one thing that the two share from their alone counterparts. (Surprising, considering what they shared, but I'll explain.) Self-Indulgence, is the next characteristic that they have. Despite all that they share, they bounce off of each other with jealousy, causing their Sadism to in fact, go away, because they are busy trying to poison you against the other. Terms like: "Come here suga', Mommy's got you some brand new jewlery, did Daddy get you some jewlery? Well, it's not as shiny as Mommy's is it? or "Doll, did Mommy get you some cheap-o jewlery? Well, good thing that Daddy got some candy for you!" are commonplace and you half-way expect it to be quite honest. They often fight and make-up, before fighting the next day and making-up the next. Wash, Rinse, and Repeat. As much as they hate each other and the way that the other parent raises you, they hate the alternative to leaving, or making the other susceptible for Batman to take you away from their loving grasp. "But who do you really love, sweetie? Mommy, or Daddy? It better be me.

Killer Croc: He is Clingy, Obsessive, Overprotective, and Self-Indulgent. His fear of being inadequate and being seen as nothing but a monster, [which is why he does crimes. If you see me as a monster, maybe I am a monster. Maybe I'll show you what a monster looks like.] is why he is all of those traits. He fears that the one person who is indifferent to him / nice to him [Reader, or You,] would be eventually changed to fear him by Batman. Killer Croc would be the type to baby you, even dumb-ifying you if that makes sense. His fear of inadequacy makes him put restraints on you, even once we're past the escape phase, putting gloves on you, being Overprotective so much, because he wants to keep his little baby safe. He sees you as a 'baby' because of your indifference to him being a mutant of sorts, and sees that indifference as naivety. He craves your approval and needs you to need him to do everything for you, hence, his baby-ing. Just let him control your every action and love him for it, okay?

Scarecrow: He is Impulsive, Manipulative, Obsessive, and just a bit Sadistic. He's less likely to experiment on such a nice darling who knows that he was a professor or wants to learn more about what he taught, but punishment wise... He's not afraid to use fear gas. He doesn't want to use fear gas on you, more complacent to study his own psychology, and why he's obsessed with you, and he can't study that if the subject is missing his child... He's impulsively manipulative in the way that he's immediately jumping to a plan to manipulate Reader into coming into his grasp. He just wants to put you in a little container and watch everything you do, just to study you like a little pet. Just make sure you don't run away, m'kay?

Penguin: He is very Clingy, Overprotective, and Impulsive. He's been betrayed over and over again by people he thought he could trust, been kicked out of the society he tries and desperately wishes to join, so when he finds a darling who gives no shits, and cares not for what he is, so long as he is a good person? He impulsively falls into a platonic love, wishing to become the parent he wishes he could have, and what kind of parent would he be if he didn't protect his kiddo? He wouldn't let you out at all, fearing the upper-class or BATMAN might get their insufferable claws into you, sinking fear of him into you. Not quite like Killer Croc, because Killer Croc is fearful because he is seen as a monster, Penguin is scared that you'll learn of his crimes and become afraid of him, and that would simply break his heart. As soon as he has an opportunity to take you away from the society, he will kidnap you.

[fumifooms]

Ok maybe kinda of a weird question you don't have to answer if you don't want to but I've seen some people saying that Chilchuck is canonically misogynistic so, as the Chilchuck especialist, do you have an opinion about that?

Anon you are brave and I love you. Listen if you, person reading this, get peeved or upset when people say Chilchuck might have had not insignificant flaws as a father and husband then probably stop reading here, we will be looking at Chilchuck like a petri dish and defile his pristine allure. Tldr: yes but actually no but really both at the same time aka people & social dynamics are complex and please let your blorbos be flawed. With that said I will be pretty casual and playful if that wasn’t clear already, sorry.

"Aren’t you happy to be in a harem party" "No it’s soul-crushing save me". Toshiro has been drinking his fear women juice since he was young, surrounded by an assassin nanny and her fellow assassin girlies, meanwhile Chilchuck having flashbacks of getting wrung out by his 4 women household…

Waiting on people is something we see he hates doing a couple times throughout canon and extras, here and how he says "it’s not a date" -bless his summer child heart- he frames being slow to get ready as a gendered trait to have? But I can forgive him for this one because honestly the framing of the whole page leans into that, it’s kinda questionable if we’re being highly critical of anything misogynistic or regressive. But it itself is the classic subversive "Women are desirable wallflowers— Wrong! They are a monstrous ruthless force that wears on the mind, body and soul" trope. I don’t fault Kui though, I got giggles from it, it makes sense for everyone’s characters, and Kui has never shied from gendered dynamics in her worldbuilding & characters so it’s not like she’ll write as if sex changes nothing and no one has opinions about it.

Alright alright let’s step back from analyzing this page specifically and get back to the question, is Chilchuck canonically misogynistic? It’s a complex question not because we don’t have hints but because it’s a very black and white answer to give and because misogynistic can be very wide or pretty narrow depending on how the term is applied.

What I would say? Yes, he is, in a realistic way that doesn’t automatically make him a piece of shit, though that doesn’t mean it isn’t uncomfortable or harmful. On the spectrum of misogyny he classifies to me as "It’s in the normalized lighthearted way of being a horny uncle who’s a little too loose about it around the dinner table", he’s a solid "He wants to treat women as pieces of meat and jokes about it but in actuality he’s a gentleman and a family careerman who has a job so he don’t really care about that rn".

Going back to Toshiro’s party, Chilchuck being weird about it being full of women doesn’t even happen only once but TWICE. I made a compilation of every time he’s crass, happens less than you might expect but the overall picture it gives throughout reading the manga is pretty straightforward. Repeatedly he’s shown to be dirty-minded and shown to objectify & sexualize women both lightheartedly and unprompted. They’re a punchline and they’re eye candy and it’s "of COURSE my succubus would be young women, of COURSE women would desire a muscled statue’s [redacted], of COURSE women are sexual beings and of course I am attracted to them".

Dungeon Meshi doesn’t bring up sexuality much and gendered dynamics tend to be more subtle than you’d expect from media in general, so there’s that, but I honestly struggle to think of any character that acts less normal about women existing than him. Like yeah he’s joking but Hien, Benichidori, Inutade and Maizuru were just breathing and doing their jobs. Who else’s misogynistic uhh, that guy working for the shadow governor that licks Cithis’ ear when she’s bound in ropes? The sheer jump from ‘makes demeaning jokes about women’ to ‘assaulter’ between these two, god.

Honestly it does feel odd to me that he’d be kinda demeaning like that about women even in a workplace setting —Chilchuck the union man out of everyone?— but Kui has spoken man idk, think what you will don’t shoot the messenger. It’s not like he’s weird about Namari? I guess he respects her too much- Wait that sounded wrong. Maybe it’s literally just because she and the other women party members are his direct coworkers, in line with his rule and all? But yeah, even if he canonically had a thing for blondes and pretty young women he has managed to only tease Marcille ceaselessly for fun & entertainment and make her hair extra shiny as his shapeshifter, you get a good behavior star there Chilchuck. He complains on waiting for Marcille to get ready in the barometz chapter and the first anime ED but he also does with Laios when he’s late to meet up the party in extras. He constantly pulls on Marcille to get her to safety as if she can’t protect herself but she’s referred to as clumsy a lot so he has that justified reasoning. He constantly berates everyone so no point to make there. He undermines Marcille’s opinions often but it’s because he dislikes mages and elves and idealism. Clearly Chilchuck knows women can be capable and clearly he can have women coworkers (and friends! Again, Namari) without belittling or sexualizing them, clearly he can be normal about women and knows that some of his attitude can be inappropriate. It’s just harmless fun to him, that he keeps for occasional playful banter and taverns and the ‘right’ moods.

And as I mentioned earlier! Chilchuck is also pretty gentlemanly and protective. As always desires vs wants and instinct vs rationality show up as themes. Yes his succubus aka his ideal, the deepest allure he can imagine, is beautiful naked women, but a chapter just before that was the bicorn, all about how faithful and virtuous he is, how his heart’s in the right place. His brain is virtuous but his heart is monkey. My point is that when it counts, aka 90% of the time and when things are serious, we don’t see signs of sexist bias and he treats women well. Often takes on a protector role or at the least takes them seriously, even Benichidori. He doesn’t want to hurt women or thinks they’re insignificant or anything. He’ll give a handkerchief to a woman in need with a slimy face.

Okay okay this is really entering speculation territory but in my own tally, the way he dismissed his wife’s ‘bad mood’ as some meaningless tantrum that he shouldn’t think any more deeply about, him starting out not reaching out to her as a resentful silent treatment, and her getting dissatisfied in the first place enough to leave makes me think he took her for granted and was kinda dismissive of her in general. Marcille’s theorical scenario is hypothetical and factually untrue at least in parts, but if we do follow it, him forgetting he’s out with his wife for once (in the precious counted time he’s home spending time with her) and not paying attention to her all outing, resulting in her being left out of conversations and just an ornament beside him the way she might have felt for a long time as his housewife waiting home for him to come back………

Editing this paragraph in: Okay I don’t know how I missed mentioning this but, when he’s asked why his wife left him, Chilchuck literally point blank thinks that being thought to have cheated on his wife is LESS SHAMEFUL than not knowing the reason why (due to poor communication skills or whatnot). It’s so ridiculous that it can be hard to see beyond it as a gag or twist, but make of this what you will but this is not a great look for his priorities and his view of women especially in regards to toxic masculinity, good lord. When I talk about him having a sense of being entitled to his wife and dismissive of her emotions that’s sort of what I mean. He thinks it’s better for people to think he mistreated his wife and did something terrible than just failed at keeping her affection for reasons he doesn’t grasp. His pride, both in giving her the silent treatment and doing damage control when talking about it to others like Marcille and coworkers, takes priority over their relationship and love.

Half-foots seem to be patriarchal. The last section of this essay’s chapter (not by me!) + combing through its half-foot chapter should give you insight on that if you want. It’s in their patronymic, it’s in the way marriage seems very important especially for women, and it’s in the implied gender roles, being a housewife whose life revolves around raising her husband’s kids and taling care of the family home waiting for her husband who’s out working to come back. I think Chilchuck is a bit a result of his environment and upbringing in that way, that most of the misogyny is internalized and subconscious and passive, it’s taking his wife for granted because not only does she trust her, his most precious person he’s known since he was a kid, but because she’s his wife, his woman, conceptually something that’s unwaveringly devoted, something that is very valued and enforced in half-foot communities. Here’s a short post on half-foot family bonds culturally + here’s a post on marriage and half-foots for more. The community aspect of half-foots is very strong, which makes sense especially for how empoverished and discriminated against they are, which does come at the expense of not unlike dwarves (dwarves which half-foots idolize) having more pressure to fit in and have a good reputation to not be cast out and have no support lines. By being scared and needing stability people will often be more conservative, etc etc, though the reverse is also often true, like Chilchuck with his union. But yes Chilchuck seems to have many biases he clings onto, harsh on especially Marcille and Laios, Marcille for her idealism, race and magic meanwhile Laios for his lack of social skills and ‘reckless’ behavior.

He also does the classic "Don’t you dare date my daughter!!", though it’s a bit up in the air because he only gets agitated about coworkers being suitors, not nearly as hostile to the idea when it’s some nameless dwarf. But y’know when a guy assumes every men is as horny and sleazy as they are so they’re like "never trust men"… Chilchuck does embody a lot the tropes of just, the everyday flawed middle aged man. The absentee father and careerman husband who does care despite it all. Disillusioned grumpy old man. Old divorced drunkard joe with a thing for cute young blonde women, as a friend put it.

We know Kui subverses tropes a lot, I definitely think Kui leans into these if nothing else for the bit. He’s tropes of the strict family Father, man doing inappropriate jokes around a beer with his drinking buddies, working man exhausted and frustrated by his job, midlife crisis. Also because of how he acts with Marcille, I always say he’s the boy on the playground pulling on the pigtails of his girl friend bc he thinks it’s funny. Because he thinks she’s pretty.

So point blank, Chilchuck respects women as individuals but he can get a little lost in the sauce when thinking about women in general and jumps to sexualizing them in ways that can be objectifying and dismissive. Casual lowkey misogyny for the bit that may or may not slip into non-jokes as well sometimes when it comes to seeing women as something inherently to defend or take for granted, though he’s well-meaning. He engages in gender roles of "men should be strong and burly" and "daughters should listen to their fathers’ opinion before dating a guy". A guy engaging in patriarchy without thinking much of it y’know, more or less passive and unaware. He’s good in economic and human rights issues but would not win the political correctness medal (though he does care about optics and is very conscious of appearing as upstanding and innocent with the elves or Toshiro’s and Kabru’s parties to avoid getting thrown in jail. Overcompensating for half-foot criminal reputations etc etc. Post on that here).

Do I believe Chilchuck would march for women’s rights? Yes. Do I believe he would make ‘ye old ball and chain’ and ‘my wife’ and ‘ah women’ jokes? Yes. Do I believe he would punch anyone making one such jokes about his wife or daughters? Yes.

I was pretty flippant bc honestly Chilchuck the Sleazy Horny Old Man is hilarious to me but yes hopefully the post was decent. "How could I be sexist? I love bitches"

[homuraakemis]

I keep seeing anti-Maiko people complain that Mai never had a redemption arc to learn about why the Fire Nation was bad, and that's why she shouldn't be with Zuko. And I think that fundamentally misunderstands what a secondary character is. Mai is not a main character. She is a secondary character. She is there to provide support to the narrative, she is there to fulfill her plot purposes and that's it. That doesn't mean she has no character development, but her character development is mostly related to her function in the narrative. In Mai's case, her main functions in the narrative are being Zuko's love interest, and being a key piece in Azula's downfall. Her character development is related to that: we have a girl who is closed off and suppresses her emotions who gradually starts to open up a little through her relationship with Zuko. We also have her feeling like she's always trapped by fear and by others expectations (by her parents and by Azula), and because of her relationship with Zuko, she is able to finally stand up to Azula. That's her character arc. That's what's relevant to her function in the story. Learning about how the Fire Nation is bad is not relevant to her main plot purposes in the story. There's no reason why it can't happen offscreen after the war, with Zuko teaching her about all the things he saw and learned about the Fire Nation during his travels. She is not a main character, the show doesn't need to focus on every single thing about her character. In case people forget, we don't get a "redemption arc" for Ty Lee either, because this is not important, neither Mai or Ty Lee are meant to be the focus of the narrative, we don't need to see them "learning that the Fire Nation is bad".

Another thing that people don't understand is that not every character has to be a copy of Zuko. People act like the only acceptable way for Mai to learn about the wrongs of the Fire Nation is by having a redemption arc like Zuko, but that's not really the case. It's not even feasible: Mai didn't go through the same experiences as Zuko, she wasn't forced to live as a commoner amongst the Earth Kingdom peasants, she wasn't forced to flee as a refugee, so she never really had the opportunity to speak to these people and see their plight the same way Zuko had. Of course Zuko is the one who gets the redemption arc, because he is the main character for which this arc actually matters to the story, but also because the circumstances of his story allow him to have this arc, while the circumstances of Mai's story don't. But that in no way means she is irredeemable or that she can't learn, it just means she will learn about the Fire Nation in a different way than Zuko did, probably through Zuko himself telling her about his experiences and the things he saw. And there's nothing wrong with that! Mai is not a main character, she doesn't need to have some epic redemption journey. She was a Fire Nation noble, just like Zuko, she was taught the same kind of propaganda that Zuko was, so of course she's going to believe in it and believe that Zuko is betraying his country when he tells her he joined the Avatar. But Mai is also not some cruel person, and she's also not a Fire Nation fanatic. If after the show Zuko told her about all the things he saw, she would listen. And in fact, the evidence we have is that she did listen to Zuko and she did learn about the Fire Nation: in the comics she works with Zuko against the New Ozai Society even after they break up. And if you don't want to use the comics as evidence, we have the epilogue of the show as evidence, in which Mai is shown to be on good terms with Team Avatar and playing Pai Sho with Suki. We don't need to see the details of how Mai learned about the Fire Nation being bad (she is not a main character, it's not relevant to the main story), we know that she did learn, we can fill in the blanks with our imagination.

Secondary characters not receiving a huge narrative focus and character development about every single aspect of their characters is not "bad writing". Bad writing would be if the show focused on every detail of every secondary character, because that would be losing narrative focus. Just because certain people don't like Mai with Zuko and use this as an excuse to say why the ship is bad, it doesn't mean that Mai not having a redemption arc is "bad writing".

Finally, this isn't a reason for her not to be with Zuko. Some people argue that Zuko would never want to be with Mai after his redemption because of her still believing that the Fire Nation was in the right, but people forget that if there's one person who knows what is like to have been brainwashed since childhood with propaganda about the Fire Nation, that person is Zuko. And Zuko was way more enthusiastic about the Fire Nation being right and the Fire Nation winning the war than Mai ever was. Why would he hold it against her that she believed in Fire Nation propaganda, when he himself knows what is like to believe in said propaganda? The most likely thing to happen is that he would want to teach her about everything he learned about the Fire Nation, he wouldn't break up with her just because she didn't magically unlearn an entire life of indoctrination.

[cosycafune]

YOU’RE JUST LIKE YOUR DADDY!

rich boy’s playhouse: chapter two:

a summary of the story: to continue to reap the benefits of satoru’s playhouse and love, you need to prove that you are worthy. I mean, the two of you love each other, but that’s only expressed through clouded, emotionally-unstabled intimacy. but what happens when a masked man hurts your emotions, leading to satoru attempting to romantically comfort you in ways you wouldn’t expect?

a synopsis of acts: fluff, angst, talks of intimacy, comforting, verbal fighting, threats of fighting, crying, almost panic attack, coldness, dismissiveness, mentions of spiralling, humiliation, threats, slapping, unestablished relationship, mentions of sexual acts, friends with benefits. chapter 2/??? art credit: sakimenz on patreon.

previous part: chapter one.

“It’s always me,” Listening to your phone continuously ringing, you ignore it — mumbling to yourself while you lay within your bed.

Everything within you vigorously ached, being subjected to walking so long without any sense of direct. Well, what hurt further was sobbing erratically on your way back, feeling like a bird in a cage. It wounded your heart that Satoru completely humiliated you, unwilling to chase after someone like you.

Innately, it was all your fault. All your fault for expecting more from someone who showed you obvious love, only to scoff whenever you addressed it as love. Satoru’s your first everything, but he’s too knitted into his ego to realise that all you’ve ever done is love him. Yet, the only times he had ever shown that is through intimacy, where the two of you are concealed — tiny specs of nothing.

“If he ever cared, he wouldn’t have let me walk an hour home, crying, aching and a mental wreck,” Grasping onto your sheets with hurt, a lump forms within your throat, “How can he turn back and walk back to the party, knowing everyone feels sorry for me?” With your head thumping, you continue to ignore your phone.

Satoru’s feelings are complex to you, but it weirds you out drastically — especially since the two of you have shared so many romantic and sexual experiences together. You’re both each other’s first times, through virginities, angst, friendship and more. In your eyes, it hurt that the two of you were something. Yet, within his eyes, it seems as if he views you as nothing — something lowly and worth using.

What were you expecting from someone so rich, who’s occasionally an asshole? But most importantly, someone whose relationship with their parents is nothing more than in shambles right now. As, Satoru’s father had been absent from his life for months — in moments where he needed him the most. So, it’s obvious Satoru’s taking his burning strands of heartache and burning them upon a once supple you.

Now, you linger — your limbs tainted and etched with the imperfections of Satoru’s nature. Imperfections he concealed behind his looks, his niceness only reserved in moments of friendship, intimacy or where you’re completely alone. Never would he ever want to openly press his lips upon your own, claim you publicly — so you knew what you had to do.

Frankly, you wanted to start fresh — away from the pitiful stares of people who feel bad for you. Bad as you’re being openly strung along, tackled with the hardship of a man whose greed suppressed all there is to you.

Selfishly, Satoru had disoriented your value — blowing hot and cold deliberately. Deliberately to observe you helpless scramble to save him, alighting his ego with the concept of knowing you would forever linger beside him. Forever inhale, ingrain and worship the pain and etching he would plant upon you.

Even in humiliation, he couldn’t help but seal your lips — so you met his standards. They’re subconscious procedures, but you knew his heart ached whenever he pushed you to your limits, completely breaking you until you’re pleading for him to free you or to apologise. Yet, this is your last straw.

“I will not be Satoru’s plaything or stupid playhouse, where he doesn’t want to choose me publicly,” Coming up with a plan to flee from Satoru’s cruel romantic reign upon you, you bundle yourself into a vulnerable ball, “I’ll choose to live with my mama, as no one knows where she lives.” Finalising the idea, you can’t help but spring up — growing agitated by Satoru’s spam calling.

Darting towards your desk, you drag your ailing physique towards your phone — astonished by Satoru’s heaps of miss calls.

Scoffing, you instinctively block Satoru’s overwhelming number — your heart longing for a slither of peace he would never grant you. Steering away from the resolved issue of Satoru Gojo, you nervously dial your mother’s number — longing to occupy her cottage with her. As, after all, living with your father was simply to gift you a better range of opportunities: university and the city.

Ring, Ring, Ring. Your heartbeat quickens, every moment you linger here squeezing your contorted heart — leaving you vulnerable to Satoru’s vengeance. One thing you knew was to not block him, as he would scan every surface of the world to discover your fleeing presence.

After all, Satoru’s attachment issues were insane — leaving you a chess piece within his pocket for whenever he longed to speak to you. Not all of your moments were bad moments, but a lot of the bad moments concealed the good moments where the two of you consistently consoled each other — making sure the two of you are okay.

However, it’s an okay that dodges the conflict in your heart and the unestablished ropes of your distorted relationship with Satoru.

“C’mon, mama, answer,” Beginning to panic, you violently ball up your fist — longing for you last steak of hope to not bail upon you.

“Y/n, baby, what’s up?” Gasping at your mother’s gentle voice, you reveal your smile and your sniffles.

“Mama, can I come back home for a bit?” Concealing your rough cries, you let out a choked sob through your sheepish request.

“I can book a quick taxi to come and get you, don’t bother with packing,” Understanding writhes within your mother’s elegant tone, pushing you into longing for her company.

“Thank you, mama,” Concealing your fearful sobs of sombreness, you shakily spew your strained breaths.

“I’ll be here for you, my sweet girl,” Your mama announces sweetly, leaving you into letting her notice your frantic cries. Cries that leave her gasping, unable to fathom the ache you carry against your chest.

“I just thought that someone would love me for me,” Snifljng, you inform your mother hopelessly, “I trusted him, but he humiliated me in front of everyone.” Ranting to her, you listen to her breaths of conflict, anger and ache.

No one wanted to see their baby in pain.

“No, don’t let a stupid boy make you question your worth,” Anger entwines with your mother’s tone, “You’re perfect, so don’t blame yourself for an idiot boy not realising he had everything in front of him.” Hyperventilating at your mother’s maternal assurance, you weep loudly — incapable of holding back your over-pouring emotions.

You’ve bottled them up for months.

“Baby, I’ll be here for you, mama’s here,” Focusing on your mother’s voice, your heart swells lovingly, “You’re my baby, and I’ll hug you for as long as it takes.” Holding back her own tears, your mother proposes her heartfelt promise.

“I just wanted to be enough for him,” Croakily speaking, you begin to calm down slightly — focusing on your mother’s angelic humming.

“He’s too much of an idiot to not realise he had everything he needed in front of him,” Gasping at mama’s straightforward sentence, you grow to realise your time is strained and limited.

If you didn’t hurry, Satoru would gather you again — spoiling you momentarily to suppress you. You knew his patterns, but your tired physique still longed to be catered to by your first love. A man who happened to reign up you, through so much more than anyone else could understand.

“The taxi’s here, my darling dove,” Your mama tells you, staying on the phone to you while you put nothing more on than shoes. Even if you’re in your pyjamas, you didn’t care — you needed to leave.

Running effortlessly, you grow uncaring for your messy looks, your unkempt breathing and the downpour of your emotions. Emotions that leave you spiralling whilst you run, the vacancy of the halls granting you an unwatched freedom. No peering eyes captured you right now, your temporary control over freedom exhilarated you.

Arriving at the front of your dorm building, you spot the peering taxi — opening the door and settling within it. Your mother confirmed who the taxi driver was before you settled in, leaving you feeling safe — even if it was two am in the morning.

“You’ll be okay, young girl,” The taxi woman spews, smiling at you from her driver’s mirror — leaving you to breakdown further.

As you take in the entirety of everything, you view a panicking, ivory head strolling towards your dorm building. That’s when you realised that Satoru had planned to selfishly console you, pushing you into subconsciously monitoring him.

Foolishly watching his messy physique, your eyes bury into the teary state of Satoru Gojo.

“Damn, that boy looks a mess,” The taxi lady announces, leaving you to block out her words — focusing contently on a surveying Satoru.

“Satoru,” Muttering his name from your shaky lips, it’s as if he heard you. As when you subconsciously say his name in a farewell whisper, his eyes greet your ruined ones in the taxi.

“Y/n?!” Inching nearer to the taxi, you erratically lock the taxi door, “I won’t let you leave me without you letting me confess to you!” Satoru frustratingly speaks, pushing you into weeping further — unwilling to fall for his never ending cycle.

“No! You embarrassed me!” Growing angered, you finally raised your voice at Satoru’s pleading state, “You shut me up in front of everyone, letting them look at me with pity, before you turned back.” Shaking your head, covering your ears, you barely could meet Satoru’s eyes.

“I just wanted you to love me, you know?” Gathering confidence, you meet his desperate, cerulean eyes, “I’m tired of being baggage you only like when you’re happy.” Sniffling, you glance at Satoru with nothing more than hope that he would tear down the door and start new with you.

“You’re not baggage,” Satoru truthfully tells you, his unkempt demeanour properly being registered by you as he forces himself to swallow his pride.

“Goodbye, Satoru,” Painfully spewing words you were never fond of, you push down your shaky hands, your heart unable to handle saying goodbye to him.

“I won’t let this be goodbye,” Stress overwhelms Satoru’s groggy, choppy statement.

“You’re literally your daddy’s son!” You shout with annoyance, unsure of how he made this about himself.

Satoru’s lips part with a raw pain that endows you, too, “I’m in pain, but you still manage to make it about you because you’re Satoru Gojo.” Muttering, you were glad that you muted your mother beforehand — or she would have cussed Satoru out.

“Drive, ma’am!” Swiftly shouting your words, the taxi driver begins to drive — leaving you to watch Satoru lightly bang against the window in a desperate plead.

“No! No! No!” Satoru exclaims through his pelting tears, momentarily running to his car — in hopes you wouldn’t get away.

However, Satoru was too late. Too late to reach the taxi, as the streets ran cold — completely empty. Not a single trace of your presence remained, aside from the pink phone keychain he had purchased you. In his eyes, that was your way of saying an unspeakable goodbye — leaving him hellbent on saving you from the old parts of him.

Satoru wanted to change to find you again. He had to, as he loved you with all he had. Yet, it only took him now to realise that he had been loving you in all the wrong ways. He had failed to truly pour his heart into the romantic aspects you longed for, and a title for him to claim with you.

You just wanted to be seen, and he failed to gift you something so beautiful.

Rich boy’s playhouse. Maybe he is his daddy’s son? Because in the same way his mother suffered, that’s what he had pushed onto you.

Satoru’s going to make this right, even if it takes him plentiful years.

—

do not copy, modify or translate my works. all rights belong to me: cosycafune. 2024.