#with no morals in the way that otherwise stopped her and twisted that in a totalitarian way

[yanderes-galore]

Fandom: Star Wars

Character: Darth Vader

Pairing: Romantic

Type of Fic: Concept (HCs)

Oh no... Anakin giving into the Dark Side... Hope I get things right :( Doesn't really go into it so you can imagine him non-burned if you want.

Yandere! Darth Vader Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Controlling behavior, Manipulation, Violence, Murder, Isolation, Possessive behavior, Forced relationship.

Darth Vader is an Anakin who lost... everything.

His morals, his wife, his mentors, his mother, everything....

He is now a being of ruthless violence to try and justify his actions.

In a way he still wants to protect...

Even if it means stomping out rebellion for the Empire.

Vader no doubt knows he's become a monster.

Part of him wouldn't blame his obsession, whoever they are, for hating his presence.

But a lot of what he does would be for them... you.

Anakin... Vader... doesn't like change.

He has trouble with attachment and that was his downfall.

He has trouble letting go.

He used to be such a nice person.

Now... much has corrupted him.

Anakin has always had trouble with love.

He never wants to lose the people he loves.

Allowing him to have an obsessive and possessive attachment to those he loves.

I imagine Vader is the same way... deep in him.

He's driven to crave power to try and prevent anything similar happening to anyone with The Empire.

He thought he lost his ability to love when he lost Padmé.

Yet... he finds someone new.

Meaning, as always, his love is only harmful towards those he loves.

Vader would fear losing the one he loves again.

In fact, at first he tries to ignore such an idea.

He can't be attached to another.

A Sith Lord like him doesn't have time for another like Padmé.

But deep down... Deep down he craves it again.

Vader is one of the most powerful Sith Lords in the galaxy.

He is a man who takes what he wants.

Power, love, vengeance...

If he really wanted you, he could have you.

But why does he struggle?

All he feels is suffering.

When he sees you, a Jedi, a civilian, a rebel, someone who works under him... whoever you are...

He thinks of those he loved before....

He... He can't do it again, can he?

He's a selfish man.

A selfish man who hurts and kills those he loves.

If he truly respects and loves you, if he isn't just using you to cope...

He should let you go...

Yet as always he can't.

Darth Vader is powerful, arrogant, impulsive, ruthless, impatient, intimidating... and most of all...

Selfish.

Compared to Anakin, he's quiet no matter how you decide to see him.

It doesn't matter if you see him as you do in canon, or if you choose to use the fandom's un-burned version.

I still imagine he wears the helmet, the suit... and you hear that twisted breathing.

You may never truly know the man who took you from your home, who isolated you for his own benefit.

All you know is a cold mask and deep voice.

Along with his cold touch.

Vader is a man full of conflict.

His feelings for you do not help.

Vader is still a man who refuses to let go.

Once he obtains these new feelings for you, he can't just... get rid of them.

No, part of him still wants to love.

He doesn't deserve it, he knows that...

It never stops him from treating you like you're made of glass.

When the Death Star was around, he gave you your own room.

If not, you're never far from him.

I would not be surprised if he was more overprotective and possessive than he was as Anakin.

Now he's determined not to lose you like Padmé.

He may have been unable to save her.

Yet he'll succeed with you, he refuses to see otherwise.

Those who interact with you are closely monitored.

Any harm that comes to you is swiftly punished.

You're given a high security room and Vader often prefers to visit himself.

Vader likes his privacy with you.

By this point, it doesn't matter if this is wrong.

Vader finds himself obsessed with you and your safety.

He feels he can find love in you.

He wants to love again even if he can't.

It pains him when you flinch away.

He tries desperately to cup your cheek, to hold you close.

Frustration keeps bubbling within him when his attempts to change you, to make things work, fail.

Which often leads to him scaring you when he uses the Force to pull you into his arms.

He needs to be careful with his anger.

He could easily kill you if left unchecked.

Then he'd be repeating past mistakes if he wasn't already.

Vader expresses... desperation towards you.

Desperate for a love he can no longer have.

He can't force what he had to happen again.

You may always hate him... He'll always be a monster.

But he's too selfish to let you go.

Even if you hate him, he still holds on to his twisted view of love.

Vader would kidnap you from your home, slaughter all you love, and isolate you beside him...

He'd do it all if it meant he could feel something again... If it meant he could have you.

Murder isn't something he thinks much about anymore. There's not much guilt now.

He's done it so much already for a cause he believes in.

A safer galaxy.

Don't you want a safer galaxy?

While originally dedicating this all to Padmé, he now makes his purpose revolving around you.

Affection is no longer something he really expresses like he used to.

He'll caress you, hold you close, squeeze you like his life depends on it as you sit on his lap.

Yet kisses are impossible, so is anything else.

You feel like you're just being used to cope.

For the most part... you are.

Vader just would never admit it.

He wants you safe, cared for, and loved.

All by him.

Sure, view him as a monster, he knows he is one.

However, this monster is doing all he can to keep you safe.

You may not be happy now... but you will be.

Soon you'll trust his words, won't you?

If he didn't want to love you, he would've disposed of you for being a distraction.

Unfortunately, his view of love isn't much better.

Vader's new view on love is preventing all harm.

That means killing people in front of you with his saber or powers.

That means isolating you.

That means locking you away for his eyes only.

He calls this love...

In reality, he's still a man afraid of loss, and he can't afford to lose you like everything else.

[mueritos]

not that i believe chappell roan is the spokesperson for palestine or leftist politics around voting/election year, but using her recent words being twisted in bad faith is prolly the best example i have about liberals' cognitive dissonance about genocide and their inability to not take other people's (specifically so called celebrities') decisions/thoughts personally.

anyway. really didn't enjoy d'angelo wallace's recent video about her but this one really ties up all the loose ends he refused to acknowledge (explicitly his refusal to talk openly about palestine and why Chappell is actually pro palestine)

but anyway, Dr. Devon Price has also spoken about this phenomenon on his substack/instagram and I recommend checking his page out. some of y'all project your morals onto people you absolutely don't know and have no right to know as intimately as you think you should, and it's fucking weird. the cognitive dissonance lies in the reality of our power: there is no power for us in democracy. if there was, perhaps world leader's would have stopped the genocide in Palestine considering an overwhelming majority of the world's citizens are against so called Israel committing it. But the truth is, we have very little power democratically, and I don't want any liberal to convince me otherwise. Do we have power in other ways? Yes, we so fucking do. But liberals keep trying to convince us our power ONLY lies in voting, and I refuse to conform my reality to that.

chappell roan was right, and some of you care too much about whether or not people will cast their vote in a month. Maybe listen to the people that chappell clearly listened to (marginalized, BIPOC, Palestinian, Arab, Jewish, etc) and you'll understand WHY people are so conflicted about voting instead of shaming them into voting.

[redeclipsee]

This is just going to be a little rant about Galadriel, Haladriel, Celeborn and other thingies I've seen discourse about lately. And this is by no means discrediting people's opinions. I just wanted to talk about it lol

I've always been pro-ship. Ship whatever the hell you want. "Problematic" ships, morally wrong ships, just whatever. As long as you're not being an asshole to other people.

Which led me to Haladriel. Haladriel is easily the most popular ship of the show, and with the end of S2, I've seen people attacking the ship, but I've seen more people demanding for Haladriel to become "canon" and absolutely shitting on other characters, plots and fans who enjoy other parts of the show that don't revolve around the ship. And it's quite embarrassing.

In the show, Sauron and Galadriel are foil characters to each other. I don't think hoping for them to face each other each season is unrealistic or even bad. In fact, it's expected. Whenever Sauron chooses darkness, Galadriel will choose light. It's a dance with those characters. 

BUT demanding the romantic ship to become canon and being mean to everyone who says otherwise is bad. You don't need canon to ship them or read them as romantic (because let's be real, the show left it to interpretation, and it's fantastic). Sauron and Galadriel being canon makes absolutely no sense with the lore, the world and the characters. We already know what the characters end up like, so being childish because they won't kiss is embarrassing.

Which leads me to some people hating the character Celeborn. We haven't even seen him in the show and yet, top 5 hated characters. I've seen more people attacking people who want Celeborn and Celeborn and Galadriel giving the most absolute insane takes; "he's boring", "you want Galadriel to be a tradwife", "you just hate Haladriel shippers“, among others. Which all of them are insane. How can you say he’s boring when we haven’t even seen him on the show? Galadriel can be happy, have a loving husband and be badass, be for real. And well, people can ship whatever. If people like Celedriel more than Haladriel is their right? Just as people can dislike Celedriel and like Haladriel, just be kind to each other idk.

SAURON & GALADRIEL

For me, there was a little romance between Galadriel and Sauron on S1. I think Sauron fell in love with her light and her power. I think Galadriel fell in love with the understanding that Halbrand gave her that she couldn’t find in anyone else, her “darkside” was understood. But Sauron’s idea of love can’t be anything but twisted and Galadriel could never really love Sauron. So yes, for me, there was love, but it was twisted.

Sauron is obsessed with her light. He wanted her power just as he wanted Celebrimbor’s art. And he won’t ever renounce it, so he’ll chace it and tempt her at every occasion he can, because he wants her light. Sauron, who thinks he needs to control everyone on Middle Earth to “heal” it, naturally has an obsession with the Lady of Light.

But that’s all there is. Because Galadriel could never truly love Sauron even when he’s the only one that could understand her darkest desires the most. 

GALADRIEL'S JOURNEY

I’ve seen people saying that her speech of “all peoples of Middle Earth will always resist you” is bad because it makes Galadriel abandon her personal goal of hunting Sauron for the greater good, not allowing a woman to have her own agency and advocating for everyone else. And well, I would agree if we weren’t talking about a Tolkien adaptation.

S1 Galadriel is galloping alone. No one believes her, no one understands her, and she can’t stop her quest. She’s prideful and selfish to an extent, and it’s her choices alone, her own internal desire to bring Sauron down that, unaware, brings him back to Middle Earth. She fucks up monumentally. 

S2 Galadriel is about the consequences of her actions, but also, realizing she’s not alone. Her letting go of Finrod's dagger at the end of S1 was a beautiful way of letting go of her quest. Gil-Galad and Galadriel’s relationship in S2 shines because Gil-Galad is harsh on her as much as he believes in her, and he tells her that. S2 Galadriel has no company and has to deal with the tables turned around by being part of Elrond’s company. Elrond, who was also acting stubborn like a mule and refused to listen to anyone (just like her S1 self). S2 Galadriel is about her finding that she’s not alone and that Finrod’s quest is over, and it’s time to fight for Middle Earth, all of it.

Going forward is about her becoming the Lady of Light that we know in Lord of the Rings. And yes, she’ll always have a darkside, she’ll always be prideful and ambitious, and I’m so excited to see hints of that in the upcoming seasons, but I don't think saying her putting aside her personal and prideful quest is bad is fair to the story the show is trying to tell. This is Tolkien, and it makes complete sense for it to be like that.

So yeah, in resume… I love Haladriel, but I don’t want them to ever be canon. I can’t wait for Celeborn to show up, and I can’t wait to see how the show develops Galadriel’s journey in the upcoming seasons! Just remember to be kind to other people, even if they don’t like your ships.

[barrenclan]

Rainhaze’s end is finally here. I can’t say I’m surprise. Either way I truly enjoyed his fall from grace. It’s kinda hard for me to even interpret what he’s even saying. But from reading it over a few times, Rainhaze has become completely nihilistic. Rainhaze killed Asphodelpaw to completely submit himself into being Ranger’s “dog”. So now he acts and embraces that role. The old Rainhaze struggled with feeling immense guilt due to how much killing he was forced to do. It’s hard for anybody to live with that much amount of guilt. So no wonder that he’s changed. He has a new-found freedom of not giving a shit about his actions anymore. Another reason he may feel so euphoric after the Asphodel killing is that was his first ever choice in a long time. His first kill that Ranger didn’t force him to do. He’s finally gotten back control. Even if his agency is fully choosing to be someone else’s “dog”

I can’t help but feel pity for his bond with Ranger. He loved Ranger and Hacksaw in some twisted way. Because they made him into the person he is right now. Helped him discover a new found freedom that comes with life being meaningless. To not love them would mean to hate Rainhaze’s self. And Rainhaze couldn’t bare to feel anymore self-hatred. The fact he reached out to Ranger in his last moments, only for him to stab him in the back, honestly makes me feel bad for him

Though I think a tiny bit of his old, moral, self still lingers despite what he says. Because he still justifies killing Asphodel as if he was euthanizing her instead of straight up murder. Her life is as meaningless as his own life. He’s doing her a favor by stopping the suffering that is living. Deluding himself into think she wasn’t suffering in her last moments. Though right after he says that, karma hits him and he feels what Asphodel felt in her last moments. Realizing that death isn’t as peaceful as he thought it’d be

Not all Defiance members are nihilistic, but Rainhaze definitely embraced a certain meaningless to life that helps him cope with the weight of what he's done. He very, very much needed to justify his actions because otherwise he'd have the feel the full weight of them.

[in1-nutshell]

Hello it's me, I just want to say I love what you did with the the ask I sent, I didn't know I had to say what specific autobots so I apologize for that, if it's not to much trouble could you maybe do arcee and Bumblebee with the kid seeker buddy who looks up to Starscream for his skills in flight and wants be be like him someday? Again I apologize for not being specific.

More Kid Seeker Buddy!

Also, its fine if you forget to specify things like specifying, we all make mistakes.

Hope you enjoy!

Bot Buddy Kid Seeker having Starscream as their idol with Arcee and Bumblebee

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Cybertronain reader

TFP

Arcee

“Did…did you just complemented Starscream?”--Arcee

“Yeah! I mean that barrel roll with the missile trick was so cool! I really want to learn that—”--Buddy

“That’s a technique for the Con’s.”--Arcee

“Not if I learn it!”--Buddy

“Well, the only way your going to learn is if you’re a Con, but your not, are you?”--Arcee

“…”--Buddy

Arcee doesn’t take it well.

Might go off on Buddy.

This’ll cause a bit of a rift between Arcee and Buddy.

A big part of Arcee feels betrayed by this news. Starscream had a hand in so many of the problems the team faced, not to mention that he offlined Cliffjumper and nearly her.

There is a small part of her that understands Buddy though. That Buddy has only mentioned the aerial techniques to help the Autobots out better on missions. Nothing about wanting to be a mini Starscream.

But Arcee has a hard time letting go of grudges, so it takes some time for her to feel ready to talk to Buddy about the problem.

However, Arcee absolutely demolishes Starscream when he tries to get close to Buddy.

After a few days after the ordeal, Arcee will have a talk with buddy about what happened and about their position on the team as well as their family.

“You know… we all look up to different things or bots. I guess learning and practicing Starscream’s moves would be beneficial for you to learn.”--Arcee

“Really?! Because I’ve been wanting to use them to help the team more!”--Buddy

“And you do already, in your own special way, you already do. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, Buddy.”--Arcee

“Thanks, Arcee!”--Buddy

“Don’t mention it kid.”--Arcee

Bumblebee

“Bep? (What?)”--Bumblebee

“Sure, he has some twisted sense of moralities, but he didn’t earn Second in Command of the Seeker’s for nothing Bee! I gotta learn some of his moves!”--Buddy

“…Bep?(What?)”--Bumblebee

Bumblebee stops whatever he is doing and does a double take.

He doesn’t get it.

How could Buddy find something to like about that Seeker?

He goes to Optimus for guidance, where he takes a moment to look into Buddy’s position.

Being the only air alt mode, it separated Buddy from a lot of the ground activities the team did. And not to mention the underlying discrimination amongst Autobots to Seekers as they are usually associated with Cons.

He feels bad and promises to himself to be a better teammate and friend to Buddy after some reflecting. Maybe going out on patrol with them more or even have simple chats about anything with them.

Bumblebee is letting rapid fire out of his blaster when he sees Starscream come close to Buddy.

When everyone comes back to the base, he’ll apologize to Buddy on how he reacted and tell them what a great teammate they are.

“Boop bepbop bep! (That was some cool aerial tricks there, Buddy!)”--Bumblebee

“You think so? I’ve been practicing more than usual to get it down. That way I can be a bit more useful when it comes to more missions like this!”--Buddy

“Bep beop boop bop bep. Beep bop bop bep. Beep beep beep boop bop. (Just because you want to improve on some tricks that can help us, doesn’t mean what you’re doing now isn’t having a great effect on us. You’re a great teammate and even better friend, Buddy. You’re not just some weapon or back up plan, your family.)”--Bumblebee

“…Thanks Bee… it means a lot.”--Buddy

“Beep bep! (No problem, Buddy!)”--Bumblebee

[franticbindings]

I've been thinking that there isn't any reason for Steel to be playing such a long game if she really is a bad actor and in on/in support of stuff like the derrick - but getting Suvi into position for the spider business is a possible payoff for all of this. Otherwise why even pretend to be a good guy to fool some 20 year olds you could squash without trying, you know? Making the spider has been in the works for a long time. Sly knew about the conclave - someone else easily could have.

I'll be disappointed if Steel turns out to be In On It, or even Behind It All Along though. Great dramatic fallout for Suvi but in some ways it simplifies the situation. For everything we've seen from Steel up until now to be some kind of act just doesn't feel properly set up and I'm gonna feel : / about it.

There are a lot of places you could go with Steel as a villain - she betrayed Soft/Stone and Yoren was a good guy all along - a dramatic reversal to be sure but for that kind of twist to hold up to scrutiny at this point the plotting would have to be so INCREDIBLY intricate that I'm just not that interested when you could take the story somewhere that feels more honest and straightforward.

What I'm hoping for is that Steel really didn't know, but still sides with her duty when it turns out that she doesn't have the influence to put a stop to it because the citadel is so much bigger than her for all that she's important.

Edit: When I used "villain" here I mean just an outright antagonist in the conflict established in today's episode. As in, she has been lying about how great spirits should be respected, and has been all in on enslaving them all along. She wanted them to wait for her in Port Talon because she wanted to see how Morrow did it so they could do it again. There are plenty of reasons you could give that would make this position understandable and morally gray! Theres a war on! There's a great spirit plotting their downfall right now, after all.

I just most likely won't buy the level of flawless interpersonal deception over such an extended time with her relationship to Suvi as being a reasonable way for her to have pursued her goals unless there is some really intricate shit with a prophecy involved at which point I will roll my eyes.

[raphaellight]

What puts people in heaven and hell?

Despite having clues enough to MAYBE tell what definitelly doesn't influence whos in hell and who's ending up in heaven, I feel I didn't post for a long time enough to list possible ideas.

Let's start with what we know. Adam is in heaven, despite being a propostrous dick, while Angel still sits in hell, seemingly only because his soul is sold.

Leading PROBABLY a rather good life, with how much children appreciated her and how she stopped the class just to call her husband to wish him best on his birthday, Teacher for Helluva Boss ep. 1 ended up in hell after one, brutal, yet rage induced slaughter.

Souls just appear in heaven and hell, without any known trial. Even if there is some "soul limbo" where people are judged, they don't remember it.

Sinners can't leave the Pride Ring. (yes, it might be important to the topic). We don't know if winners can leave heaven, but noone said they can't so we can assume they can.

Also St. Peter has a list of People permitted to enter heaven.

What does it gives us?

"Lucifer" inspired idea, human soul is bounding itself to hell. A thing about "final death" of sinner is, their soul still wanders hell after being strucked with angelic weapons. Sinners can't leave Pride Ring. Maybe it's not that they can't leave it. Maybe the doors are locked from the inside. Pride, in christian philosophy/morality considered probably the worst of all sins, is the very thing that stops people from change. To deal with an issue, you need to admit you have one. To become better, you have to admit you're imperfect. I propose the symbolic connection between Pride Ring being the prison of sinners: they have to admit they want to go to heaven and want to change. You need to admit you aren't in your own heaven, which also is one of the preveiling christians idea. "Better to rule in hell than serve in heaven" as Milton states. “There are only two kinds of people in the end: those who say to God, 'Thy will be done,' and those to whom God says, in the end, 'Thy will be done.'". One of the things that connects people living in Hazbin Hotel, Angel, Husker and Sir Pentious (not counting Alastor and Niffty) is that they admit they are unhappy with how things are going for them. And you know what, for the fact story takes place in hell, they are extreme minority among hell's residendts. And maybe that's what it takes.

Look, everyone asked in ep. 6, "How isn't Angel Dust in heaven?" Apart from the biding contract, that may prove to be very hard issue to deal with in his way onto heaven, what if Angel already is in the good will? What if Lucifer opene a portal to heaven, Angel could just walk into there and no magical borders would appear.

That would explain Sir Pentious'es redemption. His demonic body if killed of, but because he pushed his Ego aside, because Charlie inspired him to admit he wants a better life, pride was no longer binding him to hell, his soul instead of wandering it left towards a figurative and literall light. And when he entered heaven, he got a new body. Vivienne herself said, that every sinner has a "heavenly form". What if all it takes to conjure it is to come to the gates of heaven and allow it to appear.

That doesn't explain a list. But just as with anything, we don't have a lot of information about it. It might have been just to place a known image of heaven. And pages of this book seem to be written by hand, possibly by St. Peter, so maybe he doesn't know before hand, but he enters those who appear.

So how is Adam in heaven? Well, because, despite his utterly twisted acions, he genuenly wanted to be there. He was truly not bound by his pride, at least in time of ascending, that he was not pulled there.

Or he never ate an apple. Of course christian story of Adam and Eve says otherwise, but take notice, intro to Hazbin Hotel actually specifies only, that Lucifer and Lilith gave apple to Eve. And then Adam, in the first episode, says "I never made a mistake in my life". I would say, that even for someone as egocentric as Adam, he would never say eating an apple wasn't a mistake when it placed evil in the known world.

But wait, what type of Evil?

"Not everything is spelled in ink." Sera says to Emily, when she asks about what decides who gets into heaven. And in the intro, when Charlie explains the story of heaven and hell, moment of eating an apple is the moment images shows some type of red, poison like entity, growing of it. Angels were shealding the world from evil. Eating an apple allowed it to enter the earth. It is represented with Eyes. And we know for a fact of concept arts of waiting to appear demon called Ruth. It's an element of that evil, that had to enter someone's heart for him to get a possibility to enter hell as a sinner. Because by defeault, everyone is destined for heaven. That's why Adam could enter it.

Or it is that he was still a semi-good guy when dying but phew thousand years in a country that says "You are better" did their thing and he became what we knew him for. Egocentric megalomaniac, who's acions are despicable and who's songs slaps.

Possible that I will continue this post, yet still just putting it for now as it is. Want to know your thoughs and follow for more of post like those

[onegianthotmess]

I’m gonna talk about Ettie’s Signature Spell because I’m on Book 2 in Twisted Wonderland and I find the scenario in my head very funny.

So, spoiler warning for Book 2!!!

I feel that Rougely and Ruggie would be the ones who sabotage players for the Spelldrive Tournament because even though Ettie is willing to do as Leona says, she will not go against her own morals since she believes that sabotaging in a competition is not okay at all and would rather face the best opponents and give it her all than cheat her way to get the upper hand. Basically, she just doesn’t like cheating as it goes against her beliefs of hard work above all and only being sneaky in order to survive.

Getting onto Ettie’s Signature Spell, it’s called “A Giggle For Your Thoughts?” and is actually quite devious despite the seemingly innocent look of how it works. Ettie’s Signature Spell allows her to force someone to laugh and they will not stop until she releases them from her spell. Even though people doubt her Signature Spell’s effectiveness, they immediately think otherwise when they realize just how much it hurts to laugh for three minutes straight without a single hint of stopping.

So, imagine the horror Ruggie and Rougely feel when Ettie finds out what they’ve been doing. They already know to not get their sister angry, but they knew that they were doing something that warranted her Signature Spell being used on them as punishment and they knew the torture her spell was. So just imagine both of them on the ground, crying from laughing because it hurts so bad due to laughing nonstop for ten minutes. Ettie has to hear full apologies and genuine promises to never do it again before she releases her older brothers.

Ettie learned from Grandma Bucchi and doesn’t tolerate nonsense from her brothers and knows how to keep them in line in her stead while at NRC. She learned from the best and is very quick to write to Grammy about it all and assuring her that Ruggie and Rougely have learned their lesson.

In other words, avoid having Ettie use her Signature Spell on you at all costs. Learn from Rougely and Ruggie’s mistakes, please-

[inquisimer]

IT’S FRIDAY MER!!!!! Let’s see some Solas x Lavellan for the prompt ❛ i’m sorry that i can’t save you. ❜ from the hit 'em where it hurts sentence starters? 🤷‍♀️👀😈

takes your angst and rotates it into fluff

some pre-ship solavellan for @dadrunkwriting

wc: 994

~~~

Irosyl frowned at the chess board, trying to make her confused expression one of deep thought. Across the stone platform, the Commander was very politely pretending not to watch her from the corner of his eyes. She hesitantly lifted a rook and rolled the marble cylinder between her fingers.

It clicked against the board when she set it down. Cullen gave up his pretense of ignorance and immediately folded his hands under his chin, considering. Suppressing a sigh, Irosyl’s gaze darted out across the gardens.

The things shemlen did for fun. And the things she apparently did to appease the shems.

She meant to look back, to pretend that she could do any sort of analysis on the Commander’s strategy, but the glint of sunlight off a bald head caught her eye. Solas was in the gardens, collecting elfroot by the looks of it.

“Savhalla!” she called, a bit louder than strictly necessary, but she wanted to be sure Solas could not pretend not to hear her. Plate metal scraped in an unpleasant screech as Cullen jumped slightly, but success! Solas turned so that she was looking at him in profile, one eyebrow slightly raised.

Elfroot in hand, he came closer. “On dhea’him, Inquisitor,” he said at a much more reasonable volume. His low voice slipped down her spine like silk and she suppressed a shameful shiver.

She frowned, though. “I thought we were over the nonsense of that awful title.”

A distressed noise came from across the board. Cullen gave her an exasperated look as he moved one of his smallest pieces to capture the rook she’d just placed.

“Fenhedis,” she muttered.

“You really must stop disparaging your title in public, Inquisitor,” Cullen said, the honorific rolling from his tongue pointedly. He tilted his head toward where a number of agents and servants were clustered, mere paces from their game. “It does poorly for morale and faith to have our leader so…”

He trailed off, probably searching for the least offensive way to phrase his concern. Ever merciless, Irosyl crossed her arms and frowned.

“Impertinent?” Solas suggested, the hint of a glib smirk pulling at the corner of his lips.

“I am not—“

“It is your move, is it not?” Solas cut her off smoothly, unquestionable with the infuriatingly smooth authority. He glanced over the board and this time his smirk reached the surface. “Well. They always did say losing was it’s own art form.”

Irosyl huffed, wondering why she’d called him over in the first place. “What, could you do better? It’s not as if chess was a common pasttime in my clan.”

“I could, yes.”

Irosyl rolled her eyes. She gave Solas her back and considered the board, as if looking at the pieces would actually help her. As she lifted one of her pawns, Cullen offered her a sympathetic smile.

“Do not feel bad,” he said gently. “They say chess is a skill learned over a lifetime. I’ve been playing since I was a child, myself.”

“Is that so?” Irosyl hummed curiously. She couldn’t imagine any of the wiggly, high-spirited children in her clan sitting still long enough to learn even the basic rules of this game. Nor would it occur to any of the elders to insist that they should. A pang of longing struck her heart and for a moment she longed to flee but—

“Oh, fenhedis,” she hissed. Cullen slid his queen along the board and a self-satisfied smirk pulled at the scar on his lip.

“I do believe that’s checkmate.”

“Of course it is,” Irosyl groaned, burying her hands in her hair. “Oh, Bull is gonna have my head over this. He’ll know I haven’t been paying attention.”

“I’m sure he knows already,” Solas commented. “He would be a poor spy otherwise.”

Irosyl’s face twisted in distaste. “Ugh. Don’t remind me.”

Stone scraped against stone as the Commander stood, sketched a bow to the elf across from him. “Thank you for the game, Inquisitor. I’m afraid I must take my leave and return to work.”

“Of course,” Irosyl waved her hand. “It was a…pleasant distraction, Commander.”

“Was it?” Solas asked, surprising Irosyl by sliding into Cullen’s empty seat as he walked away to the battlements. The other elf reset the board with deft, knowing hands, ignoring his partner’s surprised look. Lacing her fingers together, Irosyl rested her chin on them and regarded him with ill-disguised curiosity.

“And if it was?”

“Then I would have expected you to come up with a better way to express it.”

Something halfway between a laugh and a scoff escaped Irosyl. For as unreadable as Solas had been—since the beginning—he could certainly read her like a book.

“Yes, well…” She pursed her lips, considering the fresh alignment of pieces. Solas had given her the ivory half, so she was expected to move first. So he could gauge her style, no doubt. Bull had told her that intellectuals used such analysis to learn intimate details of their opponents.

Intellectuals. Irosyl wrinkled her nose.

“The commander is someone I must appease,” she said, nudging a pawn forward. “As opposed to this game which—“

She folded her hands and regarded him intently over them. “I will enjoy. Immensely.”

“Yes, well.” Solas cleared his throat—was it Irosyl’s imagination, or were the tips of his ears going pink? It should be able to tell against his lily white skin, but as in all things, he was hard to read. “I couldn’t quite save you from the Commander’s attention, so the least I could do is replace it with something more…palatable.”

“What high praise you give yourself,” Irosyl teased.

He rolled his eyes, then raised an eyebrow as she moved her pawn forward rather aggressively. “Is that the kind of recklessness the Iron Bull has been teaching you?”

Irosyl pouted.

Leaning forward, Solas pushed her pawn back to where it had been before. “Let me teach you how to beat him, falon.”

[sil-and-seals-blog-something]

I have DND in like, an hour and a half, so I gotta make this prompt/idea dump quick.

DPxDC ideas to dump on anyone who wants to hear!

This one is focus on a little piece of Jason and Danny’s revivals.

So, first, Jason. Jason has had multiple things attributed to his revival, so I gotta clarify his first. For this idea, I wanna focus on the one that is basically this; Superboy-Prime (alternate version of Superman from Earth-Prime, which is a world devoid of any superhumans. Superheroes are comic book characters there. He gets the powers of Superman and, over time, his morals twist into much darker and villain-like morals. There’s more to him, but I won’t get into that) basically punched reality hard enough (at some point) that a lot of things happened as a result, including Jason reviving, but the panel that shows this stuff makes it look like reality broke like glass. So, I imagine that that leaves some sort of mark of Jason. He’s alive because of reality literally getting broken. (Like, don’t get me wrong, I love the Lazarus Pits stuff and all, but I wanna see more about the reality shenanigans of Jason’s revival)

Danny is kinda in a similar boat of having a funky relationship with the fabric of reality. He died and revived WITHIN A HOLE IN REALITY OPENING UP INTO ANOTHER REALITY. That’s gotta have some funkier side effects than just being a powerful halfa. Vlad is a powerful halfa and he only had a blast of ectoplasm thrown at him. Danny had reality tear open on him.

(I only brought Danny up because this thought process technically counts for him as well. But, he actually has this used much more than Jason.)

I’d love to see these details used more. Like, are they walking tears or breaks in reality? Can anyone tell that they have funky reality stuff going on? Are they a danger to reality? Is the reality stuff a danger to them? Is it like an open wound? Can it be worsened? Can it be treated? Would they die (or worse, stop existing) from it being treated? Do they get anything from the funky reality stuff going on with them? Does it fade without causing problems? Or does it remain in the background in a way that they don’t even realize that something is off about them until something happens and now it’s this big thing they have to deal with? Would their reality funkiness be the same or different?

And for DPxDC? Jason could be a halfa or he could just be some undead (maybe not even a specific type of undead beyond having been revived) that feels funky, funky in a way similar to Danny that gets Danny’s rogue gallery thinking that Jason is like Danny and either decides to mess with him (like they would with Danny) or try to get him to meet Danny (whether that’s to make them friends or otherwise is up to the writer)

Why don’t we jump on other places in the DC universe as having high ectoplasmic levels? Like, (in some stories, like, I’m not sure if this applies to the common consensus honestly) Central City had that wave of energy from the particle accelerator that activated a bunch of peoples’ metagenes, and I’m pretty sure that it also killed some people. There’s also the Black Flash, who is basically a grim reaper for the speedforce, who’ll appear in Central Coty (due to the multitude of speedsters there). Central City can be reasonably stated to have, at least, rising ectoplasmic levels. The cities that face alien invasions would reasonably have a lot of deaths and therefore a lot of ectoplasm. We can use a lot of other cities as settings. Also, I’d love to imagine the different possible city spirits people could come up with? Like, I’ve seen Metropolis done a few time, but besides Metropolis and Gotham? No other location spirits. Like:

Themyscira: Probably an old/wise warrior. She’d be set in her ways (considering how Themyscira is), but like, who knows?

Central City: Probably a young one if existent (at least, younger than Lady Gotham)? I imagine this one changing to be like the Flash family or scientific because the two notable things about Central City, that I remember, is science stuff and the Flash family.

Metropolis AND Smallville: So, I’ve seen some people play with the idea of the spirit of Krypton going and becoming Metropolis’s, but like, what if they became Smallville’s instead? Since, that’s where the Last Son of Krypton was raised and all, and where Kryptonians go as a safe space, and the spirit of Krypton probably needs the retirement to a small town. Metropolis could probably get a city spirit that reflects both Superman and Lex Luthor (Superman and Lex are the big names for Metropolis and both shape Metropolis in different ways. Yeah, Lex isn’t the best person, but he does cause some good things to happen for Metropolis. I imagine that the two are equally defining characters for Metropolis) instead.

I just, enjoy the concept of city spirits and spirits that embody a place.

This idea here is less of a prompt and more of a thought. What if Boston Deadman had no idea about ectoplasmic ghosts? Like, imagine having to need someone to magically make you visible, and then finding out about a whole other sect of ghosts that can be both visible AND tangible that can also have the same powers as you, just as a common baseline. It’s just hilarious to me to imagine how vindicated Deadman would probably feel to find out that he could’ve become that type of ghost instead, but no, he just had to be a magically bound one instead!

Idea for those who don’t like Jason just casually being cured of Pit Madness. Genuine attempt to heal him leads to Jason going catatonic again. Play with that as you will.

Hope y’all have fun with these. Feel free to mix and match, or recommend pieces of work that already have these or something similar.

[krokaxe]

• OC SMASH OR PASS •

Tagged by: @koilarist

RULES: pretty self explanatory. include physical descriptions or pics, and propaganda. the “other” label can be used for “sexuality misalignment” (ie: oc is femme and you’re gay, vice versa or you aren’t into smashing but a specific thing you wanna do with them like perhaps hug or study them under a microscope idc).

• NIRVANA KARON •

• QUICK FACTS •

Name: Nirvana Karon; Bubs

Gender: Cis Woman

Pronouns: She/Her

Height: 5'7" before heels

Sexuality: Bisexual • Heteroromantic

• PROS •

Easy company if you're inclined to her flavour of cryptic, low-stress energy.

Conversational; highly intelligent, enjoys absorbing new information. Observational in the same vein.

Talented seamstress. Will be inclined to create custom clothing for you if you tickle her aesthetic draw; she enjoys beautiful people for obvious reasons.

Bilingual; latine heritage.

Musically inclined, but not so readily inclined to share unless you're considered intimate company.

Fucks Biblical, like worship; she is both altar and confessional. Prefers to take a control role/dominant stance and will not cave on that unless the relationship is romantic. Exceptions apply*.

Well connected with a great deal of clout in certain sectors.

Mixologist and bar staff for the nightclub Rapture. Dances are reserved for a pleasure only basis.

Consistent and reliable. She's difficult to shake from her status as permanently calm, collected and in control. Confident, independent.

Hedonist who will incline herself to indulgence for the sake of sensation.

Considerably well presented, well put together and knows how to hold her presence.

Information hoarder; the best person to go to should you want to know something. Albeit you'll have to barter for what you'd like to know.

Popular in the way the unknown tend to be. People want to know her; being in her company promotes you to qualifying as 'interesting'.

• CONS •

She is fully aware of the effect she has on people. She does not use this for good.

*Manipulation and game-playing come hand and hand with Nirvana exposure. She will change her behaviour to make you feel special if it serves her.

You have to earn the right to sleep with her by metric of being interesting, appealing and not being too stupid in her presence.

You will be stupid in her presence.

Criminal connection renders her dangerous to be around by default.

Liable to find you boring unless you maintain a degree of interesting, engaging or fun behaviour.

Emotionally closed off; incredibly difficult to know on a deeper level. Doesn't trust anybody unless she has a great deal of blackmail fodder, and even then there's thresholds of trust to consider.

Cryptic, lyrical manner of speech that can make her difficult to understand. Sometimes it's deliberate.

Her family won't like you. Full stop. Her baby sister might, but she'd like a sock with googly eyes. You will never matter to her more than her family or her agnda either.

You'll always be less than she deserves, can obtain, or knows she's worthy of. She'll let you try to prove otherwise until it gets boring.

The taboo is part of her framework; you cannot escape it. She will twist you toward darker fantasies no matter how immoral.

She wants to see if she can break you. She can.

Do you like snakes? No? You should leave immediately.

Nirvana isn't the worst member of the family to deal with. She'll feed you to the others for her own amusement.

Her morals are grey. She doesn't care for the concept for who deserves something and who doesn't; she's her own authority.

High risk, creates the highest rewards that keep people coming back over and over again.

Tagging: @datura-tea • @wastelandhell • @aelyosos • @luubyart • @ss-bullseye • @grimbothefool • If you'd like to do this and haven't been tagged, consider yourside tagged by me.

[whump-me]

Martyr, Chapter 11: Dangerous Respect

Chapter 11 of Martyr, a novel-length sci-fi whump story about a captured Martian rebel with a secret and the renowned interrogator who has waited a decade for the chance to break him. This series is best read in order. Masterpost here.

Contains: defiant whumpee, cold whumper, restraints, interrogation, verbal sparring, escape attempt, beating, broken fingers

---

Wraith

Isadora narrowed her eyes at Wraith. “If you know me as well as you think you do, then you know I’m not as stupid as all that. I’m not letting you free.”

“Who said anything about freedom? The door is locked. I’m sure every inch of this room is under constant surveillance. And there are at least a dozen guards between me and the exit. All I’m talking about is the chance to speak as equals. How many chances will either of us get to talk to someone who understands?”

“You can talk the way you are. I’ve done nothing to your mouth.”

He waggled his unbroken fingers again. “We both know I can’t do anything with my hands like this.” He let out a long, sorrowful sigh—another one straight out of Gabriel’s playbook. “Just like we both know this is going to end unpleasantly. Before that happens, I’d like the chance to have that civilized conversation you mentioned. Not an interrogation. Just a talk—one crusader to another. How long have we both been waiting for that?”

She didn’t say no as she regarded him for a long, tense moment. She was clearly trying to keep her face in its mask of icy indifference, but Wraith was used to reading Gabriel, so he knew how to read her. And she was tempted.

Of course she was. Gabriel would have been. If the shoe had been on the other foot, and they had captured Isadora and locked her up in their warren under the abandoned warehouse they controlled, he would have had to watch Gabriel like a hawk, lest Gabriel have a spasm of conscience and unchain her in the name of letting her have a little dignity. Putting them all at risk like that was exactly the sort of stupid thing he had been stopping Gabriel from doing for ten years, while Gabriel had been keeping him from rushing off in fits of temper.

The problem with Gabriel was that he thought everyone was as painfully principled as he was, even though his long friendship with Wraith should have taught him otherwise. It was both logical and absurd that Isadora shared the same flaw. Logical because in so many ways, she was Gabriel, even if comparing his most hated enemy with the man he cared about more than anything in this world made him sick. And absurd because if he were listing people in order of how principled they were, Gabriel would be at the top, while Isadora Pope would be far down at the very bottom. Whatever moral code she lived by, it didn’t preclude snapping a helpless prisoner’s fingers.

At last, she shoved herself to her feet in an uncharacteristically jerky motion. She strode to him, hands tightened into fists. He flinched back before he could stop himself. But she didn’t hit him. After a few seconds, he realized the only one she was angry at was herself. She had won an argument with herself—or maybe she had lost. Either way, she didn’t look happy about it.

“Don’t try anything,” she warned. He held his breath as her hands went to the cuff around his left wrist. As her fingers brushed his skin, too close to his hand, a full-body shudder ran through him. He couldn’t suppress it. He knew she had seen his reaction, the evidence of the mark yesterday’s torture had left on him. Just a few small bones, and already his body feared her on an elemental level. She had already made him weak.

But she didn’t show any response. He wasn’t sure she had even noticed. Her fingers were busy with the lock around the cuff. She produced a tiny key and twisted, and the cuff fell away. The relief that flooded his body was better than sleeping in after a week with no sleep. It was better than a sip of water after days of desperate thirst. He couldn’t hold back a soft groan of sheer pleasure.

He stared at the bruised, reddened skin. His wrist was swollen to nearly twice its normal size. As the wave of relief passed, a fresh burst of pain swept down his arm, as if the increased blood flow had woken up a few sleeping nerves.

He didn’t care. She could have set him on fire, and it wouldn’t have mattered, as long as he was free.

He couldn’t believe she was really doing it. It had been a desperate gambit on his part. It never should have worked. But there was the cuff, lying empty in two pieces under his wrist. And there was Isadora, fitting the key into the cuff around his right wrist.

Of course she was doing it. It was what Gabriel would have done.

As she worked on the right cuff, he didn’t move, not even to test the newfound freedom of his left arm. When it fell away, he held himself perfectly still as she moved on to the ones around his ankles. He didn’t dare do anything that might bring her to her senses.

The final cuff loosened. The nerves in his ankles screamed back to life. He took a deep breath. The cuffs had done nothing to constrict his chest, but all of a sudden, he felt like he could breathe easier. A tightness around his diaphragm that had been there since Special Security had ambushed him was suddenly gone.

Isadora stood and tucked the key away. “Last night, I wanted to destroy you. I was… angry. You see, when I talked about the dangers of letting anger master you, it’s because that’s a subject I know about firsthand. I was angry that I didn’t understand you as well as I thought I should. A lot can change in the course of one conversation.”

Wraith flexed his wrists. He drew in a sharp gasp of pain. His stiff muscles moved like rusty hinges. He wondered if the damage was permanent. Not that permanent meant much, with his probable life expectancy.

He moved his ankles in small circles and hissed through his teeth. Could he stand on them? Probably. If he had to. After how long he’d spent sitting here with the cuffs cutting off his circulation, it wouldn’t be pleasant. But he didn’t need it to be.

“You won’t leave this place alive,” said Isadora. “You understand why, I’m sure. You’ve already lost this game. But you’ve been a worthy opponent for all these years, and now I can finally see why.” She walked back toward her chair, but didn’t sit down yet. She rested one hand on the back of the chair, her solemn eyes locked with his. “So let’s get to know each other, you and I. Then we’ll see about the rest. Maybe we can even find an arrangement that’s mutually beneficial… or at least mutually tolerable. And then…” A flicker of Gabriel’s bottomless sorrow appeared in her eyes. “Then I’ll do what is necessary. But I won’t be cruel about it. I’ll give you the respect a worthy adversary deserves.”

She pulled her chair out. Before she could sit, Gabriel surged to his feet. His ankles screamed in unison, shooting bolts of pain all the way up to his knees. His legs nearly buckled under him. He didn’t let them. He let the momentum of his near-fall carry him forward, toward Isadora, whose eyes went wide as—too late—she understood what she had done.

He drove one elbow into her gut, the other into her throat. He didn’t need hands after all. Not for this, at least. She hit the wall with a sickening crack.

She doubled over, choking. He drove his elbow into her torso again. After that, all it took was a shove, and she slid down the wall and hit the floor. He gave her a kick to the kidneys, like the guard had given him, and followed it up by driving his heel into her windpipe.

She drew in a wheezing, rasping breath. She stared up at him, not with fear or anger or anything else that might have made sense, but with a kind of wounded betrayal, like he had let her down.

“You heard that I’m civilized.” He kicked her in the gut. “You heard that I’m honorable.” This time, his kick landed just under her ribcage. “You heard that I’m just like you, and you leapt on the chance to believe it.” He smirked down at her. “I can play the part when it suits me. But I’d rather not.”

Quicker than she should have been able to move, she jerked a hand up and clawed at his left hand. She grabbed his broken fingers and squeezed.

His vision went white. He might have screamed. He couldn’t be sure. All he knew was that by the time he could think again, Isadora was slamming him back down into his chair and tightening the cuffs around his wrists.

She stood before him, sucking in strained gasps through her bruised windpipe. The ice in her eyes was gone. They blazed with the heat he had seen in her yesterday, but this time, the heat didn’t fade. Her fingers clenched and unclenched. He braced himself for the pain.

But she turned around and stalked out the door without a word, her fists clenched around the last shreds of her self-control.

---

Tagged: @straight-to-the-pain @soheavyaburden @gala1981 @whumpacabra @sacredwrath @suspicious-whumping-egg @sonder35 @decahedron-crabclaw @seasaltandcopper

Ask to be added or remove from taglist. Please feel free to ask to be tagged! I like knowing people are reading.

[fire-emblem-drabbles]

Pairing: Ike x Soren x Reader x Ranulf

Prompt: Commission for cute poly stuff!

Description: You begin to grow suspicious of a certain dating trio when they start paying more attention to you then they ought too. It's not as if Ike, Soren and Ranulf have anything bad planned for you, but you can't help but wonder what they're up to...

Rating: sfw

Content Warning: Poly couples, reader is called her once by Ike, otherwise just some teasing and dense idiots in love!

Word Count: 2023 (yes this was on purpose :3 )

Notes: Happy new year everyone! This was another commission for anon, the same person who commed that first cute Ranulf piece! This isn't related but I had a lot of fun writing this dynamic of a poly trio who wanted to add a fourth to their group.

____

Something seemed different lately. Perhaps, because the New Year was quickly coming upon you, but things just seemed strange and lethargic after all the festivities; you could swear there was something more to it. A certain someone (certain someones, even) have been treating you differently.

You couldn’t put your finger on it but something seemed especially different about Ike. He was more, well... it was obvious he was trying his hardest to impress you and get to know you. Which while very sweet of him was confusing. What was he up to? What did he hope to achieve? You don’t mean to be suspicious, but Ike is not subtle at all in his attempts.

Neither are his sidekicks… Well, at least Ranulf isn’t. Soren, on the other hand, can be suave if the situation calls it. You’ve found that more then once you’ve divulged a little more information if need be if he was the one listening. Honestly, the same could even be said for Ike and Ranulf. Despite being very blatant in their attempts to gather information on you, they were nothing but sweet. And it’s not as if they were planing something nefarious, either. If any of the three of them hated you, the other two would have surely followed suit.

So it left you’re wondering just what these boys had in store for you…

“Summoner! There you are!” Ike greets you with an enthusiasm and smile you’ve grown fond of, blue eyes sparking at they land on your. “I was looking all over for you.”

“Sorry Ike!” You meet his long steps towards you half way, giving him an apologetic smile. “But you have to share me with the other heroes sometimes, you know that right?” You tease him, giggling when you see the way his face twists into a blush and surprise.

“I-I don’t mean to take up all your time I just--” You cut him off before he backs himself into a corner.

“I was just teasing Ike, goodness.” He visibly relaxes when you say that, smile returning to his face but sweet blush staying on the apples of his cheeks. “So what has you coming to me in such a good mood, Ikey?” He stopped bothering to correct your nickname for him long ago.

“Oh well…” At the mention of that, he clams up again. You wait patiently as he gathers his words, taking a deep breath before speaking again. “I was, well… we were, that is, Ranulf Soren and I…” He trails off, quieting as he meets your gaze.

“What did you three need of me so close to the New Year?” Preparations for the New Year were what kept you busy all day.

“...We wanted to know if you wanted to greet the New Year with us.” Finally finding the right words, Ike is resolute when he speaks, steeling himself as he looks at you. He seems far too serious for such a casual invitation (you remember quite well how much of your time they took up during the winter festival, after all) but perhaps that’s what it took for him to find what to say.

“Hmm… I don’t know…” You hum, giggling when you see the way his face drops a little. “Lots of heroes want to spend the night with me. Shouldn’t you share me a little bit?” You can’t help but grin at the way he panics. He wanted your attention to himself but also wasn’t one to be selfish, you knew. You hadn’t meant to raise a serious moral conflict in him, honest, so you decide to speak again to save him.

But Ike manages to speak before you do. “Then forgive me for being selfish, but…” Rough hands reach for yours carefully, cradling them in their grasp. “We worked hard to make this night special for you… I’d really appreciate if you joined us.” You’re always caught off guard in those magical moments when Ike gets swept up in the confidence and charisma that made you want to follow where ever he wanted to lead. Still, you have to play it cool, even if your heart is beating wildly in your chest.

“Well…” You say, letting out a little exhale of sudden nervous energy. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to indulge you a little.” The smile he gives at your response is well worth it, however.

“That’s great!” His excitement is contagious and you can’t help but smile with him. “Come on, hurry, they’re already waiting for us!” Ike is quit to turn, keeping hold of one of your hands as he does.

“Lead the way, Ikey.” You follow his charge, happy to let him fill the silence as he blabbers about this and that and how hard they worked. It was sweet, really, but it still made you wonder…

To what end? Why did they do all this for you?

“I got her.” Ike announces triumphantly as you enter Ranulf’s quarters-- bigger then either Ike’s or Soren’s, to accommodate his beast form if he ever felt he preferred that over his more human one.

“Way to go Prince Charming!” Ranulf slinks over to the two of you, wrapping an arm around both your waists as he welcomes you in. “We’ve been waiting for a while for you two.”

“Welcome, _____.” Soren greets, face even. He was just as excited at least, or so you hoped.

“Goodness, look at you guys!” You smile as you take them in, being pulled on to Ranulf’s bed next to him. Ike takes a place next to Soren, giving him a kiss on top of his head, despite his protests. “It’s like you were waiting for me to get the party started.” You laugh at your own thought, but Soren interjects.

“We were.” He states plainly. “What’s the point of celebrating the New Year how you do back home if you’re not here to enjoy it?” He huff, brushing his hair back. As if this were the most obvious thing in the world.

“You mean…” You pause, realization dawning on you all at once. You turn to Ranulf, since he’s the closest to you, excitement dancing on your features. “You guys were getting all buddy buddy with me to celebrate how I do back in my world? That’s so sweet!” You cry, pulling Ranulf into a sudden hug. He seems surprised a moment but is more then happy to oblige. “Ike, Soren, come here!” You cry. Ike does so without complaint, pulling Soren who rolls his eyes. Soon the both of them are hugging you and Ranulf as well, the four of you a mess of limbs.

Soon enough, you all pull back from each other. “You are all literally so sweet, you know that.” You sigh softly, content in this moment with all of them around you. “I was suspicious but… well, I know you guys are all big sweethearts so I wasn’t too worried.” You can’t help but relax around them, eyes gliding from the collected sweet wine and small foods on a table.

“Well, honestly, it’s not the only reason…” Ike speaks up. Somehow the four of you have found way to all fit on Ranulf’s bed, limbs tangled and personal spaced damned. You’re between Ike and Ranulf, with Soren in front of you and just as sandwiched as you.

“Oh, there’s more?” You say giddy, Ike’s serious tone flying over your head.

“_____, love.” Ranulf grabs your chin, smile on his face as he holds you gingerly. “Surely you aren’t that dumb.” You blink at him, confusion plastered on your features.

“What do you mean?” Your gaze passes over Soren, and then to Ike. They all have the same look of disbelief on there faces. What were you missing here? “Did I do something wrong…?” You add, features falling.

“No, nothing of the sort…” Soren sighs. He’s had hold of your hand for a while now, drawing aimless patterns over the soft skin usually hidden away by your gloves. “You’re just incredibly dense is all.”

“Well, yeah.” You agree with him easily. “What’s that got to do with anything?” You add.

“_____…” You curl up to look at Ike, whose lap you’ve somehow managed to crawl into without really realizing. His grip on your waist had just felt so comfortable and right, you didn’t think to question it.

“Yeah?” You meet sweet, striking blue eyes again. This time, it feels different. Ike feels different.

“We’ve been talking with one another about, well, our relationship…” Ike looks away from your face a moment, trying to find the right words to say, or the right way to say them.

“We’ve been talking about you too.” Ranulf quips, looking a lot more calm then Ike does. Your heart pounds.

“It sounds like you’re trying to break up with me!” You laugh, to try and lighten the mood a little. “I’m not even dating you guys. You don’t have to be so nervous Ike.” You turn to him again and the look he gives you makes you want to take your words back. His eyes are wide, with lips lightly parted.

“You really are dumb, ____.” Soren speaks, squeezing the hand he’s still holding. “Ike fell in love with you a long time ago.” He states plainly. You look back to Ike surprised. Before he speaks, Ranulf beats him.

“You’re talking as if you aren’t!” Ranulf laughs, sitting up properly now. “_____, Ike was definitely the one to bring it up… but we all adore you.” Ranulf smiles bright at you.

“...All three of you?” You say in wonder, looking from Ranulf’s warm smile, to Soren’s red cheeks and pout, to Ike, face and neck red as he looks down at you all too seriously.

“Yeah, we are.” Ike let’s a little of the tension leave his face as he speaks. “If, you at all feel the same, we’d like you to be with us.” Despite his nerves, Ike manages to keep his voice even.

“You guys really feel this way?” You manage to peel away from Ike’s pretty eyes and look to Soren, possibly more pink then the minute before. You squeeze his hand like he did to you. “Even you Soren?” You can’t help but smile as he take a shuddering breath.

“I… do. You’re special to us, _____.” He manages out, unable to meet your gaze at the moment, instead fixated on your enclosed fingers.

“It doesn’t feel like ‘us’ without you anymore.” Ranulf pulls your gaze away, possibly the only one among the four of you who isn’t a blushing, nervous mess. “Not to be dramatic or anything, but you help us feel whole.” he laughs softly but you can tell from the other two men around you that his words ring true.

“You guys are really serious…” You take a deep, fortifying breath, thoughts flowing too fast for you to say anything without great effort. “I think I need a m--” before you can finish, the sounds of yelling and cheering reach your ears. Fireworks outside the window signify the start of the new year.

“Oh, look at that.” You laugh softly. You sit in silence a moment, letting everything you’re feeling wash over you like gentle rain. “I’m a little overwhelmed but…” You turn to Ranulf, grabbing his face with one, gentle uncertain hand. “I love you, Ranulf.” You give Soren another gentle squeeze, meeting his surprised gaze. “I love you, Soren.” And finally, you pull your limbs back to Ike, hugging around his neck and pulling him close to you. “And I love you Ike. I love you all so much…” You laugh softly, the sound muffled by Ike’s chest.

“_____…” Ike hesitates only a moment, wrapping his arms around you. “Happy New Year.”

“Happy New Year!” You pull away from Ike, and cheer loudly to your three new partners. “There’s no one I’d rather spend this year with… I’m happy to be here with all of you.” You take a deep breath, letting a big smile take over your face. With the three of them by your side you were sure it would be…

[avikats66]

In Defense of Ursa…

I don’t doubt that Ursa loved Azula when she was born, or that she still loved Azula throughout her childhood, though certainly that love became strained and damaged - even diminished - in ways it never did with Zuko. It was a tragedy that a wedge developed between them after Ozai took interest in Azula - in an entirely self-serving and not out of any genuine care or love way - because he wanted to use and exploit her as his daughter and a fire bending prodigy for his own power and pride. He groomed Azula - not sexually, but as the person he wanted her to be. A daughter and heir loyal to him, who would shared his values and traits, who would serve him and his wicked goals, who would be merciless and brutal like him.

Ursa was there as this process took place over a period of years, but we should consider the position she was in too. She certainly didn’t have equal power to her husband, who would have done his best to isolate her from Azula and prevent her from being turned away from his influence. And for a young child who’s got one parent praising and rewarding them for certain behaviour, then the other discouraging and disproving that same behaviour - even if not in abusive or unkind manner - that child is going to respond to and seek out the former with the greater positive feedback, without yet the knowledge or reasoning ability to evaluate the behaviour being taught to them on a critical or moral level.

Not only does Ursa not share equal power over the upbringing of her children (Azula even more so than Zuko given Ozai’s interest in her as above mentioned), she just a normal person in an awful situation no mother should ever have to be in. She is not a child behaviouralist or therapist, with knowledge or training about how to best go about helping a child in Azula’s situation; nor does she have access to anyone else who is. Indeed, she is surrounded by people who likely all either support or are unconcerned by/with the way Firelord Ozai is raising his daughter, or those who have even less power to possibly oppose him than she does, who could suffer grievous consequences or their very lives even for trying.

Ursa is trapped as the wife of the Firelord, unable to leave and take her children away from this PoS man and father. And she can’t stop him from doing his best to twist their daughter into a cruel and wicked person like himself; doesn’t know how to best help her even when and where she can, being blocked from or otherwise unable to try and intervene in the first place. And the older Azula grows, the more and more Ozai corrupts her, the less Ursa knows how to deal with it, the less hope she has of being able to heal it, and the more strained their relationship becomes. It’s a viscous circle: Azula learns a toxic behaviour/idea/belief from Ozai, Ursa tries to discourage her from it or teach her contrary, Azula is off-put and returns to Ozai where she will continue to receive clear and unambiguous positive affirmation and reinforcement, Ursa becomes more distraught and struggles to connect with Azula, Azula senses this and again goes to her father, etc. etc.

Could Ursa have done better, tried harder, done something differently in order to help Azula more? Yeah, probably, but I think she also very honestly did as best she could as can be reasonably expected of her given her circumstances as explained above. It’s very easy for us to judge her as viewers far-removed from this fictional situation - especially if we have never been in a similar sort of situation ourselves.

This is, of course, merely my personal headcanon based on limited canon information. There are many different interpretations and opinions on Ursa and her relationship with Azula; these are just some of mine.

[staticgcne]

  FILE ;  ALASTOR  DURAND  /  THE RADIO DEMON

Alastor.  A man born in 1897, dead by 1935.  Alastor came to Hell  &&  was very quick about making his way  &&  establishing his name,  something he had been taught to do for some time.  He chose quite a violent  &&  arguably very public way of doing so,  reflective of his last decade in life.  

     Alastor was born January 1, 1897.  Death date marked for June 1, 1935.  Born to Esther  &&  Marcus Durand in Louisana.  He's been molded into who he is.  His father was a killer first,  when Alastor found him butchering a man,  at the ripe age of eight,  he chose to try to make a sort of assistant out him,  &&  he succeeded.  He raised Alastor to be a killer,  with grey morals,  if any.  Esther was a doting mother  &&  wife,  but entirely unaware of her husband  &&  son's activities.  Alastor was mostly socially isolated,  his father kept him away from his mother as much as he could in an attempt to keep their secrets,  well,  secret.  Their relationship already was tumultuous for the time  &&  kept as much under wraps as possible,  &&  to give Alastor a good shot at things,  lived with his father,  while his mother lived in another neighborhood.  They weren't unhappy by any means,  a devoted  &&  loving couple,  arguably very sweet to Alastor,  save for his father's choice of passed on passion for killing.

Alastor developed into an adult with little idea of what normal male relationships were like.  His mother was off - limits to harm,  as were any other women,  but men were their primary targets.  No rhyme or reason,  really,  not for Marcus,  but Alastor later would find himself killing only those he liked.  A sick,  twisted devotion.

He went into radio,  with a voice smooth for it  &&  his father wanting someone on the inside of the information circuit.  He enjoyed it greatly,  made a name for himself very well there for a local celebrity of sorts.  He made good money,  brought attention to the family name,  earned his father's further respect.

In 1928,  his father was caught.  Begging his son to solve this problem,  on his hands  &&  knees,  asking him to do something,  anything,  Alastor murdered his own father to save him the torture of prison or death row.  He spun a web of lies to his mother,  he was reported missing,  &&  his body never found at the bottom of the nearest bayou.

Alastor,  however, would not stop there.  Intimacy  &&  loyalty were now marked by murder,  &&  his favorite of people would suffer by his hand.  He would kill them,  lovingly,  slowly,  relishing their voices  &&  cries  &&  pleas.  But eventually it had to catch up.  He was the common denominator,  after all.  He was caught,  persecuted,  &&  hanged,  with his own mother present for his death,  sobbing for the loss of her son  &&  husband both,  aware now of his wrong - doings.

He found his father in Hell.  Marcus was very angry,  a very angry man,  indeed,  &&  for the better part of three months,  they fought every time they crossed paths.  Marcus would claim that he had not asked for his death,  that Alastor failed his mother,  that he was a failure of a son,  &&  that if he was here,  it was all because of Alastor.  When the first extermination came after Alastor's arrival,  he managed to lock his father out in the open,  allow him to be cornered,  leading him to his second  &&  final death.

Alastor started working towards gaining power,  displeased by the lack he had,  &&  determining the easiest path forward was removing those above him,  all the while gaining contracts over time.  He began to broadcast the screams of his victims for all to enjoy.  Eventually,  he found himself at the top,  with few left to antagonize  &&  a deal having to be made otherwise to keep him under one's control.  So he settled down upon a throne of bones  &&  screams,  before he disappeared for seven years  &&  then returned with a new investment,  in the one  &&  only Hazbin Hotel.

verse  one ;    ‘ CLIMB THE CROSS ’   (  SHOWTIME  ) The main verse.  Alastor is currently at the hotel,  contracted,  trying to navigate helping the Princess of Hell,  moving around between Lucifer himself  &&  the others at the hotel.  Contains anything happening post - pilot.

verse  two ;    ‘ MY SALIVA'S DRIPPING ’   (  PRE - SHOW  ) The prequel verse. Anything that could have happened pre - show happens here. This can include during his seven - year disappearance, or anything between 1935  ( when he arrived in Hell )  &&  present time.

verse  three ;    ‘ TAKE OFF YOUR LEASH ’   (  DUPLICATES ) The duplicate verse.  This verse will encompass any travelling of the multiverse,  where Alastor may meet other versions of himself.  He will likely refer to himself as  "Caedis"  for the sake of differentiating when needed,  Latin for slaughter or massacre.  If the alternates he meets has their own names to go by that are not Alastor,  he will default to being Alastor.

[the-corner-window]

Revelation

"What do you stand for?"

The "hero" slumped against the base of a statue, the wheeze of her labored panting audible across the room. She unfastened her crumpled armor and let it fall beside her broken sword as to keep from smothering. Her tunic from the collar down was stained with blood and sweat, rugged at the hems and seams from the hardships she'd endured along her travels, with many small tears in places that her cuirass couldn't cover. The royal sigil was engraved on the medallion hanging around her neck, no longer obscured by the now discarded breastplate.

"A people in need of a champion."

My eyes lingered on the medallion. The crest depicted a winged man with outstretched arms, one hand holding a sword with the blade pointing down while the other clasped the head of a serpent coiled up to his shoulder.

"A people with no heed for the folk of the land. Your ancestors came from distant shores to reap the yield of fields sown of sorrow, fertilized by the blood of Fae too naïve to be wary." I removed my helmet and traced the contour of my pointed ears, a distinction of my Faeborn ancestry. My fingers then came to rest at the base of my horns which further indicated my Draconian bloodline. These horns were prized among her people as trophies of conquest against the "daemons" of the new world. "Tell me Hero. When you gaze upon my visage do you see a monster? Does the taper of my ears mark me an atrocity?" "You seek to deny us a life of peace, your deeds are what mark you a monster, not your face."

"You claim that my deeds are of monstrous intent, yet all that I've done is defend my people. Your hunters encroach on our homes seeking to carve these horns from mothers and children and sell them to 'nobles'. There is hardly nobility in ordering slaughter. The wings of sprites are being plucked at the behest of alchemists with absent morals. What peace is there amidst the destruction they've wrought?"

As she struggled to stand upright her boots slid along the tile while her faulds clanked against the polished stone supporting her weight. The tile below her feet was besmirched by pooling blood as it trickled down her scorched greaves. She looked up from her buckling knees and attempted to cut me down with her glare since she lacked the strength to brandish a weapon. She twisted her face like a cornered beast as I approached her step by step.

"The oracles preach of your jealousy, that the savages of this land wish to bring us low with deceptions and beasts controlled by wild magicks."

"We haven't the means to control the creatures you speak of, magical or otherwise."

"I've seen villages where faeries walk alongside monsters."

"We show reverence to the creatures of our lands, and tend to them in ways not wholly apart from your shepherds and livestock. We have no more agency over the wilds than you. We've merely approached co-operation as opposed to domination. A lesson your leaders obviously have yet to reflect on."

Her eyes darted around the room looking for an escape, but her body lacked the energy to spring into action, and increasingly they flitted back toward mine, eventually coming into lock with my own unwavering gaze. Her shaky breaths still too shallow to allow her a moment of relief. I stopped my encroachment just a few strides away, leaving enough room between us to keep her from readily lashing out.

"You've been blinded by your loyalty to the word of deceivers that you don't even understand the symbol you wear."

"The winged figure is our God, in one hand wielding righteous fury as he shows dominion over the beasts of the land. I know the tenets the Oracles transcribe from the legacy of our forefathers by heart."

"Yet in their hubris they are ignorant of the true meaning in his bearing, for my people too have his mark in our lore. Though the I see over time your Oracles have omitted his horns."

"What are you-"

Her words came to a halt as my cloak flung backward, no longer obscuring my silhouette. Emerging from underneath heavy fabric come feathers the color of dark wine, spreading wide and unveiling my armor made of onyx serpent scales laid upon golden fur. The stripped tendril of an Everwillow carved in the form of the Great Winged Serpent coiled down my left arm with its head swallowing my palm as a bracer. When the realization of what she's witnessed washed over her face I couldn't help but smirk in amusement.

"We are not gods, but we are ancient."