#i think you could infer perhaps.

[simonstamenovic]

i am so tired and also gay

#💌 #thinking abt #well. a man. nobody needs to know. #i think you could infer perhaps.

[just-a-torn-up-masterpiece]

pretty when you cry

therapist!wanda maximoff x fem!reader

18+: mommy issues, minimal therapy talk though, smut; mommy kink, dacryphilia, thigh riding, praise kink, fingering, darkish in the fact that, not only is it an inappropriate relationship, she almost uses r’s weaknesses(?) against her, manipulative ish and a lot of language inferring r being dependent on her? idk how to describe it :/

wc: 1.5k

Wanda listened to the way your intake of breath was shaky. She watched the subtle tapping of your foot against the carpeted ground and the way you played with your fingers in your lap.

“You never deserved to be treated that way,” she spoke. “I hope you know that.”

“The realisation of the pain almost feels worse than living through it,” you uttered back, your voice quiet as you lifted your eyes to the ceiling to will away the building tears. You avoided her gaze, the soft eyes, the wanting eyes that she couldn’t help but train on each feature of your sullen face. 

You were broken and she wanted to put you back together again. Or perhaps she aches to break you all the more, just to see how dependant on her she could make you; how lovely you would be to need her. 

“This guilt you’ve expressed - about this resentment you hold towards your family - I’d like for us to throw it away,” Wanda returned. “I hope that, together, we can bring you back - lift you to where you should be without the weight of your mother on your shoulders.”

At the tremble of your bottom lip, she lifted herself from where she sat, instead taking a seat beside you despite that line of professionalism. She took in the scent of your perfume and the up-close sight of the side of your face. She adored the shy way you glanced towards her, quickly diverting your glistening eyes when the tears began to roll along your cheeks. 

She couldn’t keep her touch away at the sound of a sniffle, a sigh of breath from your parted lips. A comforting hand took place on your thigh and you couldn't deny the warmth it ignited. Whether it was the comfort or the forbidden closeness you weren't quite sure. 

You leaned into the arm that encircled your waist, accepting the guiding of her hand that brought the side of your head to rest against her shoulder. 

“Oh, sweet girl,” she whispered with her lips ghosting the top of your head. You’d never experienced such fondness, a soft embrace when you felt as though the world had left you crumbled. 

Never before had someone shown you this kind of affection and any path of sense grew blurry. Should she be holding you this way with her hand on your leg? Should the scent of her vanilla body lotion make you dizzy? You don't know. All you know is that you don't want her to let go. 

You'd recognised her beauty, of course, and this close it was that much more astounding. When her finger and thumb took hold of your chin for you to look into her eyes you could see each fleck of colour, each bit darkened when her sights were set upon you and your pink-hued whites, your wet eyelashes and cheeks striped with tear marks. 

“You look so pretty when you cry,” she whispered, taking in your appearance lustfully. She wiped her thumb through the droplets that ran down your cheek and the touch was enough to calm the hiccuped breaths that caught in your throat, serving as a reminder of the present. Of the beautiful, older woman in front of you who was showing you that someone cared. 

Despite the hungry way she peered down at you, watching your pain slide down to your chin, her touch remained gentle. The way she watched you intently barely made you shrink, her musing eyes drank up the pathetic sight happily. Crying before her you looked so helpless, so pretty, so broken in need of a motherly hand to guide you. She’d bring you to tears over and over as long as she’d be the one to pick you back up. 

When you lifted your face to greet her lips with yours you were barely thinking, though when you did it was only to find her reciprocating with fervour; her hands took your face between them and yours found a place on her back with the silk material of her shirt in your grasp. It was a line you feared would have consequences. It was a line Wanda had only thought of crossing in the confines of her bedroom - one that was dangerous and thrilling and so tempting. But even a strictly professional woman such as herself has desires, she couldn’t pass up such an opportunity. 

You could feel the slick of her lip gloss against you, and you sighed at the intrusion of her tongue licking into your mouth. Her attention made your head spin. The idea that you were her sole focus, so desperate to have you she’d risk it all, the closeness of her body when she pulled you onto her lap felt safe. When wandering hands crept beneath your shirt you leaned into their touch, feeling the shivering of your spine when her nails scraped along the skin whilst her lips made their way to your neck. 

The way her body felt beneath your touch was sublime, the softness of her waist and the pillowy flesh of her breasts when you palmed at them through her bra. 

Wanda’s breath was hot against your throat, her tongue licked across the bite mark she left behind whilst she pulled you impossibly closer in her eagerness to have you near. She pulled your hips into hers, smirking against your collarbone at the whimper you failed to hide. When she pushed her thigh upwards into your clothed cunt you couldn’t hold back the grunt at the back of your throat, feeling the pressure in your aching clit. She knew you’d be soaked, that her attention would reward her with the feel of your hips aimlessly rutting against her. 

“Let mommy help you,” she murmured, pulling away from you with swollen lips, her hands taking claim of your hips to aid your movements. “I just wanna make you feel good. That okay?” 

Her voice was soft and so were her eyes and it all made your brain so hopelessly empty, succumbing to the hold she has on you. All you knew was that she cared for you, the feelings she was igniting were setting you alight and, although you shouldn’t, you wanted it. Each and every thing this woman would offer you, you’d take and swallow down. 

When you nodded she smiled and cupped your cheek. 

“Good girl.” 

She inched a hand between your bodies whilst her lips pushed to yours again, unfastening your jeans to creep past the hem of your underwear. Her fingers found how soaked you were with a swipe through your folds, your hands dug into her shoulders at the feeling of them brushing over your clit. 

“So worked up aren’t you, hm?” she murmured against the pulse point of your neck, burying her fingers into your pussy with a curl that made you moan out into the crook of her neck, your teeth daring to ghost the soft skin. You wanted to know her taste. To consume her entirely, to show her just how grateful you are. 

She adored the way you clung to her, keeping her as close as possible with your lips pressing kisses to her jaw while her fingers fucked into you; the heel of her palm pushed against your swollen bud, bringing you towards your release. 

“C’mon,” she cooed, pulling your face away from her with a gentle hand in your hair. “Look at mommy when she makes you feel good.”

You did as she said, letting her keep her eyes focused on your pleading ones. The ones that held the remnants of your tears, that were replaced with a sensual hue, glossed over and wanting. You looked at her as though she was the only thing that mattered and it made her ravenous.

The sight of you cumming onto her digits had quickly become one of her favourite views and the sounds she pulled from you would echo in her mind. Feeling your mouth against hers made her smile, the way you thanked her for the pleasure. Her pliable little doll. 

You’d do anything for her and she knows it. 

She was pleased with your obedience when you accepted the fingers she nudged past your lips, slackening your jaw to suck them clean of the mess you’d made. She tasted your sweetness in the kiss she reunited you with, knowing right away she’d have to taste you properly as soon as she could. 

Not much longer she was helping you stand up, fixing your appearance for you to take your leave, a tension lingering in the air of what was to happen next. 

“Thank you, Wanda,” you sheepishly began. “for everything - for today. I mean-“

She cut you off with a laugh that eased your awkwardness and a touch to your arm that you leaned into. 

“Same time next week?” she questioned to which you nodded right away. “And you’ve got my number. Give me a call if you need anything in the meantime,” she added with her lips quirking into a smirk as she reciprocated your small wave goodbye. 

#wanda maximoff x reader smut #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you

[wyllsravengard]

there's a lot of discussion and speculation about the fact john doesn't speak of arthur in rdr1. logistically it's not hard to understand that rdr1 just came out years before rdr2 and thats why but . But.

but when you think of rdr1 with the additional context two, there is something quite... in line with john trying to forget arthur. wanting to. or burying him. not just in metaphor or in soil but in his memories and in some way failing to do it but in another succeeding

you think of john and his commitment to his son and wife and you think of his willingness to do anything for them. moral or not. righteous or not. and you think of the fact that john didn't know at the time the sort of man arthur believed him to be, but he perhaps modeled himself in the image of his older brother. near incidental. he has so little in common with arthur really. john's broody and lacking remorse and at twenty-six he's inconsiderate entirely in a way arthur never was.

but time is a thief and one day, he turns 38. he's older than arthur when he dies. and john doesn't remember well what he looks like, and all he can feel when he thinks of arthur is grief. grief that never ends. thats the thing about all of it, you'll realize - is that john knows arthur best in the retroactive.

the sort of complicated, odd man arthur was revealed to him in the creases of pages and keepsakes. in the carving of his guns that john finds after arthur is gone. in the ring of the woman arthur loved long ago. in the confessionals to his son isaac and the regret in the letters he wrote to their psuedo father. you realize john knows more of arthurs stagnant ghost that can't guide john into manhood the way he so desperately needs. and it's all he has to go by to make a man of himself.

john never finds out what kind of man arthur believed him to be and he has to infer the real good man arthur was. in grief there is love. john loved arthur enough to want to be like him. and in burying the living, breathing man arthur was he's forced to cling to his spirit. has to piece together the kindness of his older brother through memories and diary entries and secondhand stories. and that's how he models himself in rdr1 to me. where arthur is moral john becomes dutiful and where arthur is kind, john is helpful. he becomes the shadow of arthurs best qualities. he can never be arthur. no one could ever be arthur, even if arthur had given them the page by page instructions of how to do so. this is all he has. all he knows. all he can do.

john misses his brother. so he tries to embody him. but he can't really in the same way he can't grieve him. so he makes a home for arthurs ghost to return to in himself. john never mentions arthur because it dregs up painful what-ifs, but they share so many mannerisms and bastardized qualities. john has fashioned himself based on those loose memories.

one day, a stranger meets john and says. "why would you remember me, friend? you've forgotten far more important people than me" and john will remember all the ghosts he's ever loved briefly. there will be a blurry face and a forgiving voice and it will sound like a memory and it will linger in johns ribcage like a moth. and john won't remember. he won't. he can't. he buried his brother without ever doing it.

john says a lot of things. feels a lot of things. he shoots his gun to the stranger who calls his memory into question and the thing jams and the bastard roams free. john will taste blood in his mouth. he'll feel a cough in his lungs and well, he won't remember his brother still. buried men must stay buried.

of course. of course john never mentions arthur. he can't remember him, even though he's inherited so much of his manner. to speak it of him would be admitting to his existence. its admitting: i miss you. im sorry. it was my fault.

of course john never mentions arthur. he's made all this effort in forgetting him that even when his body and his gesture and his character betray the fact he's forgotten - his mind will soothe the pain and blur out his face.

and instead of remembering in life even once, he'll die the same way arthur did. alone. protective. contented. redeemed. john loves arthur like most brothers do - with muscle memory.

even if john cuts the necrosis of arthurs memory off of him, his body will twitch at the phantom feeling of his existence. john remembers even when he can't. arthur his only brother. the most important man he's ever forgotten.

#z.gen #arthur morgan #john marston #rdr1 #rdr2 #rdr1 spoilers #rdr2 spoilers #im feeling soooooo miserable about them you wouldnt believe

[rolanpilled]

Why I Fell In Love With Rolan, A Character Analysis

I will be going through Rolan's lines, along with the devnotes, to try and explain my interpretation of his character.

This is coming from having spent 30+ hours combing through his dialogues, reading all of his books, listening to every voice line for context, and replaying every scene of his that's currently accessible.

TW: Mentions of abuse, family death, implied suicide

Very long post under cut. Get the Arabellan Dry out!

A few notes before getting into this:

In the game files, Rolan is referred to as "Prodigy", while Cal and Lia are referred to as "ProdigyBrother" and "ProdigySister".

Rolan is a character whose outer words and inner thoughts often do not align - for most of the game, he refuses to show vulnerability in front of Tav, reserving his softness for his siblings. This can be interpreted in a number of ways, ranging from a self-confidence issue to an avoidant attachment style. Though people are free to have their own interpretations, I will mainly be focusing on my own readings of his personality.

I am not a psychologist or a licensed health professional, but I have personal experiences with the mental health disorders I will reference in this post, and I have done a lot of research on the topics involved.

Part 1 - Elturel, and Rolan's past

"Rolan. Just... Rolan."

There isn't much you can tell about Rolan's life except that he's from Elturel and that Cal and Lia are his siblings - after all, he doesn't give you much info in the first place. He doesn't know you, he doesn't trust you. Why would he?

The information you get about his family and his life before BG3 come from minor dialogues, and using Speak With Dead on his corpse. The picture they paint isn't a happy one.

[Player: What's your name?]

[Rolan: Rolan. Just... Rolan.]

[Player: Do you have any family?]

[Rolan: No... family... no one.]

[Player: No family? What about Lia and Cal?]

[Rolan: They are... brother and sister. Cal says... I am family, but...]

Rolan doesn't have a family name. We don't know if Lia and Cal do, but it can be assumed they don't, else he might have taken theirs. The first thing that sticks out to me in this dialogue is that he doesn't consider himself to have a family, even though Cal and Lia say he's part of theirs.

The question is, what could have caused this? If his blood family was simply dead, wouldn't he refer to them as "dead" or "gone"? Instead he says he has "no one" and "no family", perhaps implying that his parents just... abandoned him. Either way, it gives the impression that he has issues with being abandoned, and may project a sense of toughness and arrogance to make up for his insecurity.

And there IS insecurity here - he outright says that Cal and Lia tell him that he's no different from family to them, but deep down, he doesn't seem to be able to accept it. That he can only reveal this information to you after death, having been so guarded in life, is heartbreaking.

As for his life in Elturel, not much is said, but a lot can be inferred from his attitude.

[Cal: Elturel was the last time the three of us talked like this. Let's hope it lasts until Baldur's Gate.]

After leaving Elturel, it appears Rolan, Cal, and Lia didn't have much time to talk. This is from the party scene - a scene where they're drinking, laughing, and joking amongst each other. Clearly the journey hasn't been the easiest for all of them, though one thing we can take from this dialogue is that they've had this friendly, sibling-like relationship for a long time.

From what we know of Elturel and the Descent, things were NOT pretty down in Avernus. Many people died, and after the city was returned to the surface, tieflings were driven out of the city, as we all know. Something important to think about is how exactly this might have gone for the three siblings: how exactly they ended up in the Grove, travelling with the refugees. The context seems to imply that the siblings were travelling on their own, not necessarily considered a part of the group, but this is debatable and not entirely clear.

So what brought them to Baldur's Gate? What finally drove them out of the city? Did they leave before things got worse, or were they driven from their homes with stones and violence? It could really be anything, but the one thing that's clear is that their primary reason for heading to Baldur's Gate is for Rolan to start his apprenticeship with Lorroakan.

We know that Rolan wrote Lorroakan a letter: multiple letters, actually. We're not sure if he wrote to other wizards, but from his dialogue, you can tell that Lorroakan's been someone he's respected for a long time, both for his magical skills and his political beliefs. Though he's never met Lorroakan, you can find a copy of Lorroakan's biography on his desk at Sorcerous Sundries - there's an admiration established early on, and the player is led to believe that Lorroakan is a powerful wizard (though if you bring Gale with you, he comments on Lorroakan's shady reputation, hinting at something darker beneath the surface).

What could have driven Rolan to write so far away, seeking apprenticeship? Was it out of a sense of desperation, wanting to leave the city but needing a way to take care of his siblings? Was it curiosity? A sense that Lorroakan might be his last chance to make something of himself after being denied what he felt like was his rightful destiny? As a tiefling, he must have faced some discrimination for his heritage - I can speak to my own experience here, growing up as a person of color in a majority-white community was genuinely traumatizing to myself and my non-white friends. Not only do we receive open bullying and ostracization for our appearance, there's something even more insidious that often happens to minority populations - neglect. A general disinterest in our accomplishments, a lack of encouragement and attention towards kids that don't fit the norm. If this was something Rolan had to experience, it's no wonder he felt angry and eager to prove himself. He's been neglected his all his life, and he finally has a chance to show everyone who doubted him that he really does have the potential to be a great wizard.

Rolan himself appears to be in his mid- to late- twenties, bringing up the question of what he's been doing his entire life if not magic. It's mentioned that he was able to conjure a flaming cat from when Cal was as young as 8, so depending on the age difference between the siblings, Rolan might have known magic from a very early age. So why, then, is he a mere wizard apprentice at the start of the game? He's surely had a lot of time to learn himself.

[Lia: Try not to get too close, Cal.]

[Rolan: Yes. Remember what happened last time?]

[Cal: I was eight and you magicked up a kitten. How was I supposed to know it was made of fire?]

What could have happened along the way? He might have just not found the time or the opportunity to be able to study, especially as a tiefling without a family or the money to pay for an education. In my interpretation, Rolan carries a lot of unvoiced shame for not having been able to "fulfill his destiny" until now. He projects an outward mask of confidence and arrogance to hide his vulnerability, his insecurities - that his family isn't really his family, and that he isn't really destined for greatness. His natural reaction to vulnerability is anger and denial, which we'll explore more in the later sections.

(It is mentioned in the devnotes, though, that Rolan "has truly worked his ass off to get here". Prodigy is not an ironic title - he's likely had to self-study to the point where Lorroakan felt that he had potential. He has a right to be confident, but it doesn't negate any potential feelings of unworthiness.)

Additional info - Rolan, Cal, and Lia, on top of having known each other since Cal was 8, also share a mother figure, who is deceased. There is no mention of a father. It could be that this was Lia and Cal's actual mother, who took Rolan in, or a number of other possibilities - it could be that ROLAN'S mother took the three in, or that she just happened to be an unrelated woman who adopted three orphans.

[Cal: We should have a little party when we reach the city, like we did for mum.]

[Rolan: That 'little party' lasted from sundown to sunrise. Lia would like that.]

This dialogue can only be accessed if Lia dies but Cal and Rolan live.

So we've set up a few key details about Rolan's personality: his arrogance may harbor hints of insecurity or desperation, he has issues with feeling abandoned or neglected, and he's potentially been denied his chance to learn magic in the past. We will explore these in detail in the next few sections, along with another troubling tendency of his - perfectionism, and the self-blame that comes with it.

Part 2 - The Grove

"I'll not gamble our lives, our futures, for people who are as good as dead."

If you recall his dialogue in the grove, Rolan seems to distance himself from the other refugees, focusing only on the safety of his siblings. Let's unpack this in his own words -

[Rolan: This isn't Elturel and I'm not responsible for every damn tiefling in the world!]

[Rolan: I made no such oath, and I will not be held responsible for these people.]

This is in contrast to Lia, who believes that they should help what she considered to be their 'kin'. Remember that Rolan often refers to the refugees in a detached way, refusing to associate himself with them.

At a first glance, it might seem like Rolan is fixated on his apprenticeship - he wants to get to Baldur's Gate straight away, so he can begin studying under Lorroakan. Lia accuses him of the same, causing Rolan to react with anger.

But if you think about what Rolan's underlying motivations might be, you might have realized something that Cal and Lia most likely recognized too - he's worried for his siblings' safety.

The grove is an open, unprotected area, and they're being menaced by druids on one side, goblins on the other. There's only a few fighters, Rolan, Cal and Lia among them, and none of them are strong enough to take on either group. Even if Rolan feels a sort of kinship with the other tieflings - which I'll expand on in a second - he prioritizes the lives of his siblings over them, and doesn't want them to sacrifice themselves for people he doesn't even know.

Now, the other theory - what if Rolan doesn't identify with the other tieflings, because he's been cast out by them before?

I'm going to inject my personal experience as an immigrant here. Life as an immigrant can be profoundly isolating, especially if you have few relatives in the area. Rolan may have been so attached to Cal and Lia because they took him in when his own people rejected him - for some reason, even other tieflings could have seen him as an "outsider", and refused to help him when his parents abandoned him or died. If you tie in the theory that he was a tiefling born to human parents (which would be taboo), it could have been that they rejected him for not "being tiefling enough". I'm aware that in-universe there's no one unified "culture" of tieflings, but even in groups without a unified culture, there are still small pockets of people with certain internal customs. It could be that Rolan failed to fit in due to his heritage, that he was rejected for his personality, or some other reason, but my interpretation for his refusal to help fellow tieflings is that he never quite felt the same kinship for them that Cal and Lia did. It could also be that he holds resentment towards them for abandoning him - abandonment seems to be a central theme in Rolan's story, and likely contributes to his feelings of inferiority and unworthiness.

(He does seem to know Infernal, though I don't know whether that's a cultural thing or an innate trait to tieflings.)

If the fight is held at the grove, Rolan, Cal, and Lia stand near the back of the cave to protect the children. They can be found arguing with each other on potential battle positions. Afterwards, if the tieflings and all three of the siblings survive, they can be found by the entrance of the cave, where Rolan again behaves arrogantly towards you and claims he could have handled the goblins on his own.

All of this is quite standard for his character and projects the image of an arrogant, selfish person who only seeks to protect himself and the people that matter to him, which is likely what he wants. It also lends some credibility to the interpretation where he was rejected by other refugees - if he felt neutral towards other tieflings, it might have made more sense if he was less derisive towards them. Instead, he consistently detaches himself from his people, drawing clear lines between them, with a hint of bitterness that seems to have a painful origin.

The rest of Act 1 is Rolan acting like his standard self - bratty, arrogant, and dismissive of others. That is how most of us met him, though he won't stay that way for long.

Part 3 - Moonrise

"But what good am I if I can't do this... this one thing?"

(Author's note: "This one thing" is travelling alone through a cursed, necrotic land, breaking into a prison staffed with dozens of trained guards, and personally facing an immortal chosen of the literal god of death. Rolan is a Level 4 wizard.)

As you already know, at the start of Act 2 Rolan is drinking himself to death alone. His brother and sister have been dragged away screaming by the cultists, and he's overwhelmed at the thought of never seeing them again. Naturally, he's quite angry with you, but if you read his lines closely, you can see that you're not the only person he's angry at.

[Rolan: Gods damn it all. I can do nothing right - not a damn thing!] [Devnote: Furious - mainly with himself]

[Player: You're supposed to be at Last Light.]

[Rolan: I'm supposed to be saving Cal and Lia!] [Devnote: Frantic, worried for his siblings]

[Rolan: Instead, I found myself cornered by shadow-fiends and in need of rescue. From you, of all bloody people.] [Devnote: Pissed off and taking it out on the player]

[Player: You were trying to help your family - you're too hard on yourself.]

[Rolan: Or not hard enough.]

[Rolan: I've failed Cal and Lia, again. Be on your way - I'll return to Last Light... I know when I'm outmatched.]

Rolan is someone who feels deeply responsible for the safety of his siblings (this lends credence to the idea that he's the eldest of the three). He may argue and bicker with them, but he could never abandon then, nor could he forgive himself if something were to happen to them. He is clearly carrying an unbearable amount of grief and guilt for allowing his siblings to be captured, but he's so emotionally repressed that he chooses to bury his sorrow under a mound of anger. Being drunk doesn't help - it's mentioned by one of the kids, Ide, that he's been through three bottles of wine by the time the player reaches the Shadow-Cursed Lands.

That much is obvious just from reading his lines, but his angry reaction to the player is, as the devnotes say, a way of taking out his pain and frustration on other people. He might feel guilty about it later, but in the moment, it's the only way he knows how to cope with them. This isn't his only instance of externalizing his self-hatred.

If Cal dies and Lia lives, the player has the option to break up an argument between Lia and Rolan. If they fail to neutralize the situation, Rolan will tell Lia (or Cal, depending on who lives) to get out of his sight permanently.

[Rolan: You deserve nothing. You two are cowardly parasites, and I am disgusted it took me this long to see. Get out of my sight.] [Devnote: Furious in his grief, lashing out, being as hurtful as he can to his surviving sibling]

[Lia: Fuck you, Rolan!]

-

[Lia: Insufferable, arrogant little prick. Argh.]

[Lia: Everything is about him, everything is about his pain. Godsdamnit, Rolan!]

It says a lot to me that if one of his siblings dies, that he has to be convinced out of lashing out at his surviving one. He seems to be like a person who deals with strong emotions by lashing out, likely as a defense mechanism to make himself appear stronger than he feels. This is a common technique used by people with self-esteem issues - to avoid drawing attention to their own vulnerability, they lash out and externalize their feelings with anger to bury the grief. Lia says as much in this ending - to Rolan, everything is about his pain, and he's managing it in the only way he knows how. He knows he's hurting his siblings, he knows it's wrong, but he engages in it anyway, a common trait of people who dislike themselves. If Rolan didn't have his apprenticeship, it wouldn't be a stretch to say that the death of his siblings might have caused him to spiral and give up on life altogether.

Interestingly enough, in the end where both Rolan and one of his siblings die, it's implied that the remaining sibling commits suicide. You can read more about it here - it gives some insight into Rolan's motivations, and serves to emphasize exactly how much this apprenticeship means to him. Rolan lives for two things, though it really just is one thing - his siblings, and his apprenticeship, which means more to him because it represents a hopeful future for his siblings. Every clue in the game points to his siblings being everything to him.

But let's move away from this bad ending for one second, and back to where we are. Rolan's been drinking himself silly, yelling at children, and eventually storms out into the SCL by himself. Being an apprentice wizard, few expect him to survive on his own, and true to form, he has to be rescued by the player again.

Though I think this line is currently bugged and unavailable, he actually has lines reacting to the shadows.

[Rolan: My magic is not to be trifled with - leave or die!] [Devnote: Exhausted and scared, but trying not to sound it]

Rolan, emotionally repressed fool he is, is once again attempting to appear big in order to protect himself from what he fears. Whether it's the shadows, or the loss of his siblings, he reacts to stressful situations with a brave front, attempting to push people away so they won't see him at his worst state.

This is one of the common symptoms of an avoidant attachment disorder - an attachment style that causes people to push others away if they get too close, avoiding emotional closeness and being uncomfortable expressing vulnerability to others. I interpret Rolan as having this kind of attachment style, which is often formed from neglect or abuse as a child, resulting in a self-sufficient but emotionally cold person. It can lead to the breakdowns of close relationships, as evidenced by Rolan pushing away his surviving sibling (potentially in order to save himself the grief of having to go through their death again). People with this disorder often cut off people before they can be cut off, in order to save themselves the pain of being abandoned again.

Some recognize the negative impact of their behaviors more than most, and though Rolan never comments on it, it can be inferred that he feels some measure of guilt for the way he behaves. If convinced to lay off of his surviving sibling, he immediately apologizes, recognizing his mistake.

[Cal: Do you wish it was me who died? Instead of Lia?]

[Rolan: Gods no, that's not what I meant. Never, Cal. Never!] [Devnote: Realizes what he's just said. Backtracking, apologizing, sincere]

[Rolan: Shit. I'm sorry.] [Devnote: Disgusted with himself and what he's just said. Looking away, sincere apology]

[Cal: Me too.]

We can see here that Rolan IS capable of self-reflection and guilt - it just takes more than a nudge to get it out of him. He says as much if you manage to rescue both siblings, thanking you and apologizing for his behavior - not an empty apology, or made out of necessity, but a genuine, heartfelt admission of guilt and gratitude. This kind of mature response from him says a lot about his character, and hints at a capacity for further growth in Act 3.

As Cal says, Rolan can be stubborn, but he's never malicious. I see this as an indicator of the immense guilt he holds inside him - though he externalizes his rage towards anyone and everyone, deep down, the person he blames the most is himself.

Which leads me directly into a talk about perfectionism, one of Rolan's defining character traits.

Rolan, at his core, is a perfectionist. The feelings of failure for not being able to save his siblings, the arrogance that belies a certain type of self-hatred, and a willingness to attack others in order to deflect from his own vulnerability - all of these traits tie heavily into perfectionism, which Rolan consistently displays traits of. At the start of the game, he spends every line with the player bragging about how he and Lorroakan are going to become household names, how they will boast of this meeting to others. To an extent, I'm sure he believes it. He's just been invited to what he considers to be a prestigious apprenticeship, despite everyone having considered him a failure. Naturally, he's excited despite the trauma of Elturel and Avernus, and wants to get to Lorroakan immediately in order to fulfill his destiny (he refers to it as his destiny several times throughout the game).

This makes what happens next all the more tragic.

Part 4 - Baldur's Gate, Lorroakan, and ending the Cycle of Abuse

Picture this - you've been rejected, abandoned, considered a lost cause for most of your life, accepted only by the siblings you just barely avoided losing forever. But the journey was worth it. You're finally here, in the city you've dreamed of, studying under who in your opinion is one of the most powerful and respected wizards in the world.

Then you get there, and you don't learn a thing. Your teacher asks you nonsensical questions and beats you as a punishment when you're wrong. It's unsurprising that when the player enters Sorcerous Sundries, that Rolan seems a bit more dejected than usual.

Much has been said about the depiction of abuse in media, but as a survivor of domestic violence, I found Rolan's reaction and justification of his abuse very accurate for someone suffering from DV. True to his personality, the very first thing he does is deny that anything's wrong, continuing his trend of burying his emotions in the hope that they'll go away.

[Player: I know the marks of subjugation. Your face - what happened?]

[Rolan: Nothing for you to worry about.] [Devnote: Master Lorroakan hurt him, but he doesn't want to say]

[Narrator: *His voice catches. Something's wrong here.*]

Survivors of DV often feel great shame towards their abuse, often blaming themselves and refusing to speak about it out of fear of appearing vulnerable. True to that, Rolan doesn't say anything about what Lorroakan's doing it, resorting to another common tactic for abuse survivors - implying what's happening without directly stating that the abuse is occurring. This is often out of fear, especially if the victim is still close to the abuser - in this case, Rolan not wanting to jeopardize his apprenticeship, or possibly be abused further for disclosing it to someone else.

[Rolan: Be very sure before you make to visit Lorroakan. He's got a beastly temper.] [Devnote: Sounds a bit disappointed in the player]

[Rolan: Master Lorroakan is... a difficult man.] [Devnote: Gently touches bruised face, distant]

Abuse survivors often hold a great deal of guilt for 'allowing' themselves to be abused, more so if the abuser considers them weak or easy to manipulate. There's often a stigma - "why didn't you just leave? You knew it was bad, yet you stayed, so there must be some blame on your part." This is not an uncommon belief amongst survivors, and through his journal entries, it can be inferred that Rolan holds a similar belief. Rolan's journal, and his VA's fantastic reading of it, can be found here. Rolan is clearly aware that what's being done to him is wrong, but he persists - in my opinion, partially because he believes it's worth the benefits involved, and partially because he feels a responsibility towards his siblings to succeed after 'failing' them so tragically before. Again, perfectionism, guilt, internalized self-hatred: easy traits for a horrible man like Lorroakan to take advantage of.

There are a few possible endings for Rolan here, the first being if you side against the Nightsong with Lorroakan.

The thing about abuse, as Larian so excellently portrays it, is that it is often perpetuated in cycles. A person who's been hurt is more likely to hurt others, whether as a response to their pain, or in an attempt to spread their misery in order to feel less alone. Though not all survivors become perpetrators themselves, many perpetrators are survivors themselves. Rolan is no different - if Nightsong is captured, and Lorroakan is killed in the fight, he will immediately attempt to cage the Nightsong himself and harness her immortality. This could easily be seen as an attempt to get strong enough that no one can ever hurt or take advantage of him again.

When the player next long rests, Rolan will be found dead, having been killed by Aylin - perhaps a mercy, to avoid him from becoming just the same as Lorroakan.

But the player who cares for Rolan wouldn't let this happen to him, right?

Rolan's attitude towards the player gradually changes over time, but nothing shows his growth more than his good ending, where you save Cal and Lia and side with the Nightsong. When you bring Nightsong to the tower, Rolan will be shocked, in disbelief that the Nightsong was a person all along. He turns against Lorroakan on the spot despite the other man's threats to ruin his life (a common tactic employed by abusers to control their victims).

[Lorroakan: Boy! At the ready. Once I've taken control of the aasimar, she must go directly into the caging runes.]

[Rolan: No, Master Lorroakan. I would have never assisted you if I knew you planned such horrors.]

[Rolan: You lied to get the Nightsong here. Made us all believe she was nothing but a relic. I have seen what true leadership can accomplish - but never under your tutelage.]

[Lorroakan: Watch your tongue, you child! I could make it so that no wizard in the realm will touch you.]

[Rolan: If they're all like you, I think that sounds like an excellent bargain.]

It takes an immense amount of courage to stand up to one's abuser, so to see Rolan so bravely stand against the man who hurt him was a positive surprise to me. It also shows just how much the player has changed Rolan for the better - your leadership and selflessness has inspired him, given him the bravery to stand against his abuser. It's a powerful scene, and I admit that watching it brought a tear to my eye, brief as it was. Few people get the chance to take revenge on their abusers, so it was cathartic to see Rolan thunderwaving him onto the balcony before letting Aylin snap his spine.

After the fight, Rolan thanks the player, finally feeling safe enough after his abuser's death to reveal what happened to him. Though it's implied that he feels some shame for being victimized, much of it is likely from the shock of the sudden event, and by the next day he's regained much of his enthusiasm - he still has the ego, but with less arrogance and more acceptance of the player's presence. Rolan's growth, from hating and mistrusting the player to eventually trusting them enough to show his true, kind self to them, is what really made me fall in love with him and his character arc.

Ultimately, Rolan's story isn't just about learning to lay down your pride and accept help from others - it's about abandoning perfectionism and elitism, accepting your own faults, and choosing to grow as a person. For Rolan, the player begins as an annoying, meddlesome force, someone who "moralizes" to him about saving others when he wants no part in doing what's considered "right". By the end of the game, he realizes just how lucky he is to have you in his life - without the player's influence, he could have easily gone down the worst path, the path of narcissism, ego, and disregard for others. But because of a string of coincidences, he was saved from that fate, and was allowed to grow and accept that there's enough room in his heart for more than just the few people that care about him. He learns to lay down the perfectionism, accept that making mistakes is a part of change, and feel his feelings for what they are - whether they're gratitude, fear, or even sadness.

For someone who struggles with avoidant attachment disorder, seeing Rolan's character change throughout the game greatly inspired me to change the way I was approaching my own relationships with people. Avoidant attachment disorder is not talked about very often, both in the medical field and in everyday life, and people suffering from it are often misunderstood or considered to be 'lost causes' - to see Rolan so capable of change inspired me to change myself, and I'm sure I wasn't the only one who felt this way.

When he takes over Ramazith's Tower, Rolan decides to distribute Lorroakan's knowledge to the world, and tells you about his plans to open a library. This is the most obvious sign that he's changed - the player's willingness to help him despite getting little or nothing in exchange has inspired him, and he becomes a kinder, more open person. He learns to trust again, to love again. It's unclear what happens afterwards, as he's not present in the epilogue, but the heartwarming conclusion to his arc can be seen in the issue of the Baldur's Mouth Gazette after Lorroakan's death -

Despite everything, Rolan makes it to the end, having vanquished the trials in front of him with the help of the player. He gets his tower, his knowledge, and shares it with the realms, finally able to realize that he's worthy and deserving of a happy life.

-

Thank you to Larian for bringing Rolan's story to life, to Mr. Taylor for his excellent portrayal of this character, and to all the Rolan fans for showing him so much love every single day.

I have met so many amazing and talented friends from the community around this character, and I'll forever be grateful for everyone who showed him the love I feel towards him.

I can be found on twitter at @gimblebock.

#rolan #rolan bg3 #bg3 rolan #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 #rolan cal lia #lorroakan #bg3 lore #long post

[loriache]

do you ever think about how delgal never blamed the winged lion for what happened to thistle?

I'll preface this by saying that he certainly COULD have done. most of the arguments that delgal had with thistle about returning the golden kingdom are off-page, and he doesn't seem to have relayed a lot of detail to yaad about how he understood thistle's behaviour.

however.

what we can infer, i think, is that if delgal blamed anything for thistle's increasingly erratic behaviour, it was the influence of "black magic" and power.

the winged lion is the golden kingdom's guardian deity, and that is how they understand it up to the present - including yaad. the prophecy that convinced delgal to leave the dungeon (which i assume the winged lion intended to use to attract another, more easily controllable, dungeon lord) is likely to be part of a long campaign the lion made of deliberately isolating thistle from the people of the golden kingdon and presenting itself as the victim.

we see that the lion is convincing, and keeps a facade of concern for thistle long past the point that it has any chance of winning him over - i don't have any doubt it was easy to present this narrative to the kingdom's people, including delgal.

but isn't it incredibly sad to think that the person who thistle trusted most in the world and did all of this for was unable to see the true victim, between him and the winged lion?

we see that very shortly upon becoming the dungeon lord, both marcille and laios become lost in their desires. this is standard.

Laios is only able to get through to marcille because he sees the root of her pain, and understands that ...

...the dungeon's power is evil.

thistle isn't acting rationally from the very beginning, but it is possible to reach him - if delgal could understand where his desire and his fear stemmed from, and that the winged lion is evil.

Thistle at least seems to know that the winged lion isn't to be trusted. Thus why he sealed it in the book. perhaps he picked up on what it was doing, manipulating the kingdom's people and him both.

But if he ever said that the winged lion was dangerous, not to be trusted, to delgal, he wasn't believed. to delgal, thistle sealed and misused the power of the golden kingdom's guardian deity. As a student of ancient magic, I believe thistle understands that isn't what the demon is - or at least not all of what it is - even if he doesn't know the details of why it's so dangerous, or that it can devour his desires. But as an 'outsider' to the golden kingdom, despite his (unofficial, i'm sure) adoption, and the fact he's been there most of his life, I doubt his saying so would be received well by the kingdom's people.

As far as we know delgal also doesn't understand the fear that is driving thistle's refusal to let the dungeon go -- the need to be useful that he instilled.

Even if he doesn't really realise, he is talking to a, at most, 15-16 year old in relative human years, and putting the responsibility for the kingdom on him - it's no wonder this is a weight that Thistle isn't able to let go of. Especially if this is how he attempts to persuade him:

It doesn't get to the root of why he asked thistle to do this to begin with - the fear of death. It's just "hasn't it been long enough, people want to leave." Well, if they leave, they will die - thistle's right about that! The only way to get him to accept that is what Yaad eventually does on his behalf at the end of the manga.

To admit that he was wrong to ask to begin with. To ask Thistle to accept loss and death. To accept it himself, truly.

Without doing that, there's no way he'd ever get through to him. So the route he takes - running away from thistle, begging that someone kill the "lunatic magician" - might be the last resort of a desperate man who blamed himself for what happened to his brother. But it's also something he does because he can't understand Thistle, and can't see his pain for what it is or his relationship with the Winged Lion for what it is.

The way that the lion manipulates others' perception to make him the victim and thistle the - well, the 'lunatic', the unstable villain and captor - really evokes DARVO to me. the demon as a metaphor for an abusive relationship. like.... look at this extra:

and it makes me sad that no-one realised what was going on until it was too late for thistle.

#dungeon meshi #dunmeshi #dungeon meshi meta #dm meta #the winged lion #thistle dungeon meshi #sissel dungeon meshi #delgal #dunmeshi spoilers #all the way to the end - anime onlies dont touch #delgal not good brothering :( makes me sad

[dentos-wife]

Let’s talk how about Chrom and Robin’s bond evolved over time

With everyone clamoring over the new emblem I wanted to take a look back how we got here with their relationship and why I think at this point Chrobin is the intended or inferred Chrom pairing when it didn’t used to be.

In 2012 we got Fire Emblem Awakening, and as Chrom was related to Marth, his inferred pairing was Sumia a pegasus knight as a nod to Caeda, Marth’s canon wife. Granted because part of Awakening’s charm is you could pair anyone up, you didn’t have to pair Chrom up with Sumia if you didn’t wish to. But to IS she was the intended choice.

She had special scenes with Chrom and was the most likely to end up paired with him if you weren’t gunning for a specific wife for him

And you see her here in the opening with Lucina

Robin is you, the avatar, they don’t even have official art, just them with a hood

They had a canon design what we all know now but it wasn’t really used. And that should have been it as far as IS was concerned. Awakening was their last hurrah. And then FE blew up.

Robin’s canon design is now getting used, both the male and female version are now in Smash Bros. Then we have Warriors and Heroes and the Awakening cast shows up more. But not Sumia. Perhaps it’s because she’s not popular or the people flocked to Cordelia instead but she is the pegusus knight everyone loves. Sumia isn’t even in Warriors or the base FEH she gets added much later to FEH only with other less popular Awakening characters.

It’s here when FE became more maintstream I believe that IS changed their tune on Sumia being the intended wife and retconed it. I fully think Sumia was dropped and they no longer had an intended pairing for him all because she just wasn’t popular. Him and Robin were close of course they always were, obviously some would see it as friendship others would see it as something more the usual nothing really changed there.

And then 2022 ten full years after Awakening’s release...this happened

Couple things here. I fully believe the reason Chrom was paired with MRobin here instead of FRobin is for two big reasons reasons.

1) If they paired him with FRobin it canonizes a pairing so MRobin is the safer option, FEH doesn’t usually pair men and women unless they’re already a pairing. So MRobin got paired with Chrom and FRobin was on her own but she still has lines about how much Chrom meant to her.

2) MRobin is the more popular Robin as has been shown every year in CYL and he’d even win next year

So Chrom and Robin were always close it was a no brainer to make them a duo unit, they picked the male version on a very family oriented banner.

That said some of these lines...well let’s just say if a man and a woman were saying that to each other there would be no doubt here. Imagine if this Robin was the female version

Robin: There's Lissa, Emmeryn, Lucina, Frederick... I think we've got gifts for everyone. Don't we? Chrom: Well, all but one. What would you like your gift to be, Robin? Robin: What? Me? You can't just come out and ask like that, you know. There are rules! Chrom: You know I don't care about that. Just tell me what you want. Robin: Truthfully...I can't think of anything. Chrom: You don't want anything? Aw, come on. Think of the bind that puts me in. Robin: You gave my life meaning when I had nothing—not even my memory. The sense of purpose I've found at your side, working for peace in the world, is all I could ever ask for. Chrom: You're not alone in that, you know. I feel the same way. That's why I wanted to give you something nice. To show you how I feel. Robin: All right, all right. In that case, why don't you give me one of those flowers you're wearing? Chrom: It's only going to wilt. Robin: I'll press it into one of my books. That way I'll never forget this Day of Devotion.

Snippet from their duo convo. Usually when someone gives flowers it’s considered a pretty romantic gesture I’ve heard plenty of people call this alt playfully the gays and yeah this is very strong.

FRobin even comments on them in one of her lines.

“That man with Chrom is a Robin from another world, right? They get along so well, I'm almost jealous...“

There was no need for that line at all, we can tell from their lines how flipping close they are but they felt the need to have another character comment on it in base lines

I do believe MRobin was used not to canonize a pairing...at first. And then they gave up because it looked like people really liked it going even further in the next year.

In Awakening Chrom and Robin refer to themselves as two halves of the same whole which is already a loaded term. But it’s never been used after and was just part of the game

Enter the next time they pair up as the Emblem of Bonds which brought that back for the first time since 2012, in full force

Correct me if I’m wrong but no one besides them have referred to each other as their other half in Awakening

Lucina does it in Engage. For reference other half means husband, wife or partner (romantic). I think after the Valentine’s alt they decided sure why not and now they’re really going in with Robin being Chrom’s other half when they only touched the term once past Awakening in a FRobin cipher card. Other half in Engage is Robin and he pops up when engaged with Chrom to mix magic with the attack. I don’t doubt you can mean a friend with this term but when paired with everything else they say to each other, it’s pretty strong evidence it’s further than friendship.

Okay now for the the ultimate Robin is now Chrom’s intended partner view, Legendary Robin also released this year

“Tactician of Ylisse. Celebrated as Exalt Chrom's other half in the legends that followed their exploits. Appears in Fire Emblem Awakening. “

I saw some people argue exalt could mean Lucina too but no it doesn’t, it clearly means Chorm it says so and if you didn’t believe that, we got a map that was the two called Chrom and his other half. Which is Robin.

His art also references his other half status, he now wears blueish green jewelry which stands for Chrom and the brand of the exalt is on his chest plate

Finally in his damage art he once again has the symbol of the exalt formed in magic.

And a ring, some have argued it’s his clothes but usually the magic gauntlets he wears are on his middle finger and not under his gloves; pretty sure it’s a ring, it’s even on the ring finger of his left hand, where you generally put a wedding ring.

All this together is some very strong evidence, but put it with everything else they’ve done since last year and it’s clear to me, IS now is pushing Chrom and Robin as the intended pairing. Not canon like Marth and Caeda or Alm and Celica, but intended like they do with Eliwood and Ninian and some others I’m probably forgetting. And because MRobin is who they use and their “canon” sort of like FCorrin is the “canon” Corrin, IS is strongly hinting at MChrobin

Which fascinates me, we went from Chrom with a intended implied wife to scrapping it and pretended it never happened to this, Chrom with an intended husband. Him and his best friend, both two guys, very much in love. In ten years IS changed it’s mind on the intended canon pairing that isn’t even possible in the base game. They are a fate defying duo, the emblem of bonds, the exalt and his other half, two halves of the same whole and they are showing that in symbolism harder than ever. I think that’s really cool

To end this I’m aroace and see romance a little differently from the amatonormic norm Chrom and Robin could just be really good friends lord knows I also think friendship should be just as important as romance BUT if they were, it’s very clear they are each others most important person over any wife they might separately have.  But even that doesn’t follow a typical heteronormative relationship no? Chrom and Robin’s bonds are so strong they transcend the concept of romance and friendship as we know it, there is no name for the type of love they share it’s beyond us.

But what about Lucina? (and Morgan) In a world with magic, dragons, people dying and coming back to life, time travel and more the idea of two guys somehow having a child is no longer far fetched at all really, or even surrogates exist.

Also they act like kind of like dads with her and it’s really cute

Now granted IS could remake Awakening and MRobin will still not be able to marry Chrom and this whole analysis would have been for naught but I think if they do remake it they’ll add it. Look at how many people have been introduced to them just through Heroes and Engage you don’t think people are going to want to pair up the exalt and his other half in their game?

To sum it up, yes there literally is no heterosexual explanation for where IS has taken this. It wasn’t originally the intended pairing but it sure is now, I don’t think there is any room for denial anymore until we see what they do with a remake.

#chrobin #fire emblem #MChrobin #fire emblem awakening #fire emblem engage #analysis #like at this point if you don't like it you can ignore it but it's VERY clear to me IS is going with it now #if Sumia was more popular would we still have ended up here? Dunno #this all is still the same for FRobin btw but she's not who IS is pushing as the canon Robin but it still stands #anything she gets with Chrom? Take the same way Chrom loves all Robins #if you read all this I love you

[celluloidbroomcloset]

Once more, I return to the stabbing scene vis a vis Izzy and Calico Jack, more or less related to what I talked about here.

Again, this moment is clearly memorable for Ed, as he tells Mary Read, and even perhaps for Stede, who recalls the line "I stabbed you, you nut" via "You nut, why'd you have to go and get yourself killed" when he's sitting by Ed's bedside.

But this is also important in terms of how the representatives of toxic masculinity in the pirate world, Izzy and Jack, conceptualize sex between men.

Both Izzy and Jack clearly view sex as something that is done by someone to someone - I've discussed earlier how Izzy's understanding of the stabbing precipitates his insistence that Ed kill Stede. He's requiring that Ed fix the hierarchical imbalance created when Ed asks an "effeminate" man to penetrate him - something which Ed ultimately declines to do, and which Izzy himself cannot do (because his attempt to kill Stede backfires and effectively unmans him by breaking his sword).

Jack's own view of sex and sexuality is markedly similar. He also attempts to dominate Stede by his account of his "dalliances" with Ed, by reducing their sexual relationship (and all sexual relationships between men) to functions, and finally by pissing on Stede's shoes. It's entirely a performance of dominance - he tries to argue that Stede is ashamed by the thought of "buggery" and drags Ed's own sex life into the open (something which Stede rejects, saying that Ed's past life is his own business and that he respects that). Since Jack was sent by Izzy, one wonders how much he's learned about Stede and Ed from Izzy, and how much he infers on his own. The question - "Are you buggering each other?" - is a frank statement about what Izzy certainly thinks is going on.

Izzy's view of the stabbing scene and Jack's discussion of buggering are entirely about who is doing what to whom - and to them, who does what determines sexual roles and therefore their place in the hierarchy. Dominance and submission is about who penetrates and who is penetrated, and that is ultimately about power, not pleasure, desire, or love.

At no point do either of them imagine that Stede and Ed's relationship could have a romantic or emotional component - Izzy only sees Ed being seduced by Stede, Jack only sees buggery and dalliances. That their sexual roles could be not about power but pleasure and desire, much less an expression of love, is not something Izzy or Jack consider. And that Ed could be topped or even dominated by a gentle man who doesn't use, or think to use, penetration to hurt or shame him doesn't enter into their heads.

Ed, as much as Izzy or Jack, is aware of the power dynamics in sex between men in a way that Stede is unlikely to be. Ed does know the rules by which Izzy and Jack function, and it's consistently shown that he's tired of those rules - hence why he wanted to meet Stede in the first place, and why he continues to reject Izzy and Jack in favor of Stede. But he believes that's who he has to be - he tells Stede "you were always going to find out who I am" before he leaves the ship with Jack.

I've said before that Ed's entire purpose in the stabbing scene is to have Stede hold him. He's unable to ask for the softness he wants and so turns it into a violent game, not so dissimilar from the ones he plays with Jack. He allies a symbolic sexual act with violence because that's the primary way he understands - and, we can infer, has experienced - sex. But what he sees and feels in that moment, and what he remembers when he recounts it to Mary, is a soft man who doesn't treat sex and violence as inextricable, and is only concerned about having hurt him.

By the time we get Calypso's birthday, Ed seems to have fully realized that there is an alternative to the sexual power structure in which he has lived his entire life. That discovery is as freeing for him as it is for Stede, because it means that the soft things he wants, and the desires that he has, are not shameful, nor do they need to be violent for him to find pleasure in them. Being held by Stede is something he can ask for, and being penetrated by Stede doesn't need to be painful. By then, neither Stede nor Ed see their roles, or their choices about their sexuality, as fitting into a masculine power structure.

It is about love.

#ofmd season 2 #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd season 1 #ofmd meta #stede bonnet #ed teach #edward teach #izzy hands #calico jack #gentlebeard #blackbonnet #toxic masculinity #homophobia #guess i had more to say on this topic #as always i'm happy to discuss anything #my wee thoughts

[hopetorun]

matthew asking keith not to talk to the media about him isn't new information (the athletic, 5/10/2023), and as the lede of that story makes clear, keith honored that request:

Matthew Tkachuk put his father in “timeout.” That’s why Keith Tkachuk, an 18-year veteran of the NHL and one of the league’s best American-born players, wasn’t available to talk about his son’s remarkable run that has taken the Panthers from “biggest disappointment” to one win from the Eastern Conference finals. [...] Now, there’s no time for distractions, and Matthew wants to keep a lid on his pops, who informed The Athletic of his “timeout” via text.

that article goes on to quote matthew's mother, sister, family friends, teammates, and coaches and mentors at various levels, so it's safe to say that keith's exclusion is a notable one.

as far as i can recall, the interview last night is the first keith has talked about matthew publicly since, and it wasn't a comment on matthew's performance or his team's play. should keith have said on the broadcast that matthew gave him the silent treatment? hard to say from the outside! i don't think "he didn't talk to me for a bit" gives us any meaningful new information* since we could already infer that he was mad, but i can understand why someone else might want to keep that particular detail private.

i don't bring this up a lot in my fannish posts and comments on tumblr because it's a little bit peeking behind the veil, but the tkachuks have very clearly made being a family the brand. now, that was a low hanging fruit for sure, because the nhl loves father-son narratives and fraternal narratives, but they absolutely lean into it. as a consequence, we know a lot about the family, and can often infer even more. (think brady not quite saying it but boy was it clear that he didn't appreciate matthew interfering with his contract stuff.) they can't just not talk about each other at all, because the story they've woven about themselves requires it. there's no version of this where keith never gets asked about matthew again. i think it's quite impressive how long he's managed to go without commenting on matthew's play. did he even say anything during the conference final?

look, i think there's plenty of things to point to if you want to construct a narrative about matthew and keith not always getting along (especially since no one gets along with each other all the time, perhaps especially not their parents). and there's plenty to dislike or find grating about keith! i also have my own beliefs about where in their relationship there's most likely to be tension, which i'm happy to get into on request but aren't the point of what i'm saying here. and if you're just here to play around with the idea of really contentious father-son relationship and have picked matthew and keith as your paper dolls for this purpose, then who am i to stop you? as one of my dear friends always says, all rpf characterization is fake.

but for me at least, the leap from the information we have to "keith hates and/or disrespects matthew" is a big one.

#*except for the use case of writing rpf where 'matthew gives people the silent treatment when he's mad' is in fact a useful detail #also i wish the athletic let you do gift links like the nytimes; it's such a useful feature #i'll come back and tag this later when it hopefully won't shoot to the top of the tags #sorry 2 any friends whose filters won't catch this #also i am going purely on what other people have said about the conversation #i am not listening to those men speak unless there's a cash prize at the end❤ #hockey #matthew tkachuk

[sh0tanzz]

Heyyy! I was wondering if I could request a post on anton’s ideal types / future s/o based on astrology?? I love your attention to detail in your works and just honestly your blog overall!! xx

THANK YOU SM AND HERE WE GO

ANTON'S IDEAL TYPE based on astrology

(reminder that this for fun and astrology is something I study for a hobby, these are all inferences based off of observations and not exact fact unless I knew him myself !!)

Physical Appearance:

Surprisingly I don't think he has that much of a specific type regarding things like skin tone, hair type, etc there's more indicators for aesthetics rather than overall physical being. Anton's Venus is in Taurus + he has an Aries Stellium. He'd be attracted to someone who is confident and comfortable in their own skin; confident enough to try/wear stunning bold makeup looks whilst also comfortable enough being able to go out with their bareface. He could like soft or "no makeup" makeup looks as well. Someone who presents as neat, has good style and wears nice accessories that aren't too flashy but noticeable. Healthy hair with a bounce to it. Someone who'd take HIIGGHH effort into taking care of themselves (skincare,haircare,shower routine). Could be into someone who's curvier or an hourglass figure (Idk why but I keep thinking about Volleyball girls. 😭) His mars is in Gemini which rules the hands so he'd maybe like someone with pretty hands or wears rings + gets their nails done.

Personality:

His Mercury is in Aries and he has the aspect Moon conjunct Mercury so he'd like someone who is very understanding and understands nuance enough so they don't take what he says wrong. (ngl I feel like his moon/mercury aspect gives him his soft soothing voice). Someone who speaks whats on their mind when communicating. Can just ooze healthy confidence and being self assured. A person who has a random/childish sense of humor just like him. Someone who allows him to be independant and can be independant. As said before his Mars is in Gemini which I like to call the sapiosexual placement, he'd want someone who loves to learn new info and has many interest and is able to have intelligent beyond surface level conversations with. Someone who has genuine opinions and can make up their own mind. Enjoys a person that can pursue what they desire and not become too deflated or hesitant about what they want; he just loves a sense of ambition. Essentially has their life together or at least has plans and goals they want to achieve. Can be on the talkative side he wants his own YAPPER.

Mentality/Values:

Someone who understands boundaries and doesn't try to push people with things they can't handle. Someone who practices gratitude and knows that being considerate goes a long way. Can stand up for the people they care about. Can be spontaneous and have fun but knows there are times where being serious and receptive is important.

Extras:

Could find someone who wears various high quality perfumes or scent sets attractive.

Finds flowy dresses and skirts cute perhaps, sundresses or clothes made of satin come to mind.

Someone who knows to be assertive/extroverted but still capable of being gentle and subtle could catch his eye

#kpop astrology #riize #riize anton #riize fluff #riize imagines #riize reactions #riize smut #riize x reader #riizenet #riize x you #riize icons #riize masterlist #riize moodboard #riize soft hours #riize soft thoughts #riize smau #riize sungchan #eunseok #sungchan #sohee #jung sungchan #osaki shotaro #nct #anton lee #love 119 #seunghan #wonbin #kpop fluff #kpop reading

[myfandomrealitea]

I wish I had a place to post my fucked up arts without being cancelled 😭

Honestly I think the drawn arts have suffered perhaps the most out of modern censorship. Especially the communities, too, because when sites ban things to please advertisers, investors and the handful of people squawking about protecting the children, it creates this mentality of; 'if its been banned its bad, so whoever makes it or enjoys it is bad too.'

There will literally always be at least one person who comes after you for what you create. Lord knows I enough enough angry anons in my inbox on a daily basis and all I do is rant about antis and occasionally knock my braincells together with enough force to say something vaguely helpful.

My best advice for avoiding being 'cancelled' is to heavily, heavily curate your online space and the people you aim to include within it. This could be by:

Following specifically other blogs who post similar content or express interest in similar content to what you produce or your interests.

Pre-emptively blocking blogs who express disgust or hatred for the content you produce or like, blogs who express moral stances conflicting to yours, ect. This is expressly helpful on sites like Twitter where options to limit engagement are limited.

Tagging properly, and including trigger and warnings tags whom others are likely to have blocked. This prevents people from seeing something they don't want to, and also gives you coverage if they try to accuse you of 'spreading it around.'

In cases of art that may have more extreme content, try using spoiler flags or any filtration option that requires viewers to actively consent to viewing it. Relevant to above, nobody can cry wolf about 'being exposed' because they would've had to physically reveal the work to themselves.

DeviantArt unfortunately recently changed its policies to a frankly ridiculously constrictive degree, so while I previously would've recommended that as a place to host your artwork and find a safer community, I can no longer. Hopefully someone is successful in pushing for the site to reform to its previous rules soon.

ArtStation is an option. The site is not eligible to anyone under 18 and sexual, gore, fetish, and 'mature' content is allowed provided the usual stipulation that you aren't using it in order to cause, infer or threaten harm against someone. A lot of the site is geared toward marketing artwork, though, so you might be hard pressed to find more of a community aspect to it.

Rule 34.com is... Objectively one of the best places you can host your artwork if you create content that is based on sexual themes. The protective rights aren't the greatest, but anyone who uses Rule 34 has no leg to stand on regarding morality and censorship.

Reddit has a lot of subreddits for sharing art, and a bonus is you can find subreddits specifically geared toward artwork based on things like gore, violence, sexual content, ect. Filtering options and monitoring are basically non-existent, however. Also, Reddit sometimes spontaneously decides a specific post is against its TOS and yeets it.

There's also the option of building a Discord server based around sharing artwork of certain themes, which is objectively the format that allows you the most control over who views it, but it also means your art has a limited presence. (Can't be reblogged, ect.)

If you do check out any of the websites, always be thorough in reading the Terms of Service and the Community Guidelines.

#sephiroth speaks #myfandomrealitea #fandom #proship #proshipping #art #fanart #art platforms #artists #discord #deviantart #reddit

[mtchacffinz]

Omg if youre taking requestsss,

Could u plsss do something like reader is being neglected bcuz (charac) is too busy with work but then they realise and then spend time.. like angst to fluff ahh

Maybe with few characters like cyno, haitham, wanderer, xiao??

Thank you!!

💗💗💗

prompt! Been away for too long, won't you atleast miss me?

cw! gn! reader, tooth-rotting fluff (SFW), clinginess, maybe a crybaby reader in a certain part, words of affirmation, established relationship, lots of tender moments, mentions of Chasm Archon Quest

note! i love fluff. this is adorable so i shall deliver. plus, i think my acc needs some fluff too after all the smut I've written! (⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠)...

Here we are, overthinking again. In all seriousness, this can't be! Many suns and moons have passed, yet he still hasn't said a single word about his whereabouts! Did he somehow forget about contacting you? Maybe he fell down a hole through a ditch never to be heard again.. Perhaps he fell in-love with another lovely surpassing your wits and charm?

You were no stranger to solitude. It doesn't scratch an itch anywhere in your mind space that requires you to gnaw on your lip every waking moment you feel that churning feeling in your stomach. Definitely not— Absolutely not! You believe that some parts in life are needed alone to be addressed with just the right amount of tenacity and resistance. You would come back to your loved ones with triumphant smiles chanting "I'm back, I'm back! I did it!" like a warrior.

Your mind spiraled into incoherent theories about his unknown agendas— too indulged notice the recurring voice that seems to speak your name.

And when you finally turn to see behind was when he finally graces your presence.

CYNO.

There was tense aura in the air, the last breath leaving even more awkward than the last. It was obvious Cyno wants to say something, but his lips stay sealed— quietly observing you waiting to see how you will move instead.

It seems as if he thinks you're really upset. Just an inference, his intuition— a baseless assumption. I mean, who wouldn't be after leaving your partner hanging for 3 months straight venturing out into the desert?

He's a lovely partner. You think that, wholeheartedly. You really do. But seriously!? You understand there must've been at least some sort of viable explanation, but a part of you couldn't help but feel upset.

"I'm glad you're home safe." You finally speak, releasing a big sigh. It was as if a big weight lifts off your chest. Your smile says nothing more than joy and relief. Well, maybe a little too joyful.

Because you know full well if you speak your next words, your voice would break.

So you keep your lips pursed only for you to keep your own thoughts. Cyno is no average man. As a Mahamatra with fearsome agendas, his life is always on the line whenever he ventures out into the wild. Once, he returned to Avidya Forest with curse marks all over his body— crimson spurs trail over his gear, you were barely keeping it together!

Seconds pass, it was grew concerning that none of you were saying.. well, words. After all, you both have just reunited, and Cyno has probably gone through a rigorous mission that rendered his lips sealed, right? With curious eyes, you steal a glance from his figure. Your partner stood with remarkable posture, eyes evasive of yours. The young man seemed to be contemplating something.. expression a little solemn and glum.

With a gulp and a hesitant stare, he finally speaks his mind.

"I'm.. sorry. Forgive me, dear. There was a huge misconduct within the Akademiya and Matras I had to keep anonymous for—" he stops a little before continuing. Cyno's gaze is at the floor. "I had to keep anonymous for you.. for us. I couldn't send out letters. Please forgive me, (Y/n)."

Cyno takes another deep breath. "I understand if you'd like to lash out on my sudden return, so feel free to do so—" you quickly wave your hands in fluster.

"Ah, no no no! Really, Cyno, it's fi—ne...uhuh." You suddenly hiccuped.

With the first crack of your voice, your eyes immediately began to flow waterfalls. Salty tears pricked your (e/c) optics glossing over them with a glint. Cyno immediately rushes to your side whilst you immediately clung onto him like he's your life line.

Oh, Archons. He's your life. Just by his voice just now, you almost felt like your heart melted AND got crushed at the same time with just the weight of his words. Lash out? Of course you would! You're worried SICK. And you've missed him!

"You have no idea! I was holding onto these for 15 minutes earlier!" Your voice broke, fighting for your feelings. Cyno only wipes away your tears and nose with his sleeves in panic— repeating his apologies in a hushed voice over and over again.

AL HAITHAM.

The scent of scroll dust, his calloused hands, his warm breath on your head. For the past hours of his return, you only asked for one thing: to be held until you, yourself— let go of him. And judging by how how long Al Haitham has unknowingly neglected you, he's willing to make up for his wordless days.

But..

"Hey, honey.. dear..?" the Scribe softly calls out, gently tapping your shoulder. "Sweetheart? (Y/n)?" A little too indulged in his arms, you fail to give a response. This was when he sighed, and nuzzles deeper into your neck.

"(Y/n), it's been six hours. Surely you're feeling a little better now?"

"You've been gone for months."

"I know. But it's almost dinner, and we haven't eaten yet."

"We can starve here." You respond just as quickly. He sweatdrops, unable to tell if you were joking or dead serious. Look, his arm is cramping, his whole body is sweating, and he's dehydrated. The blanket that was wrapped around your body was on the floor, and you seem to be a little tired yourself. Taking matters into his own hands, you get surprised that his arms suddenly wrap tighter around you, lifting you up in his arms.

"You're ridiculous," Al Haitham puts you around his shoulder like you're a sack of rice, making his way through the kitchen. "I'm making dinner. You cling onto me all you want. We're eating."

After all, you never said anything about him moving while holding you, right?

All you could do was grumble and whine in his ears. The scribe doesn't seem to mind, as he gets a pan, his seasonings, and his food. Tapping your back occasionally, with every turn he make, your partner makes sure the doesn't accidentally burn or hit you with something while you're in his shoulders. With time passing, you're starting to get a little embarrassed yourself.. getting dragged all the way from the bedroom the the kitchen. Tugging on his clothes, you called out his name.

"Haitham, please let me down.."

Maybe it was the wind carrying your words away, but he doesn't seem to react. Your partner only focuses on whatever he's frying at the moment with his free arm on your figure. With lips pursed, you repeat again.

"Haitham."

"I heard you. I don't want to, you're staying there."

"What? No way! You're probably tired!"

"Oh? Don't back out now, I was going to feed you as well. I'm yours the whole week— I'm not leaving your sights very soon." Your partner says with a voice enough to leave no room for rebuttals and arguments. Seeing your face, slowly being taken over with embarrassment, ignites a small flame in him.

After a few mere moments of your silence, you grasp onto his clothing once again. This time, your voice was softer, a little more calmer.

"You're gonna be mine the whole week?"

WANDERER.

Ever since his return, the Wanderer has been gracing you with diverse stories from different parts of the land. Now, he isn't one to ramble his mouth nor entertain anybody with his experiences— so the indigo haired man could consider this "spoiling" you rotten.

After a long, exhilarating lectures of Vahumana Darshans, as well as interviews from other nations regarding his thoughts on different political matters— Wanderer has finally made enough time to spend with people he could actually tolerate.

On the other hand, he has been too kind, taking you to vast sceneries and feeding you all sorts of delicacies. It's as if he's trying to make up for something.. and you know what, you have no idea. But this? This is nice! Ignoring his witty and no-filter-opinion attitude, Wanderer has been significantly nicer to you last time you met.

Shopping, sight seeing, trying all sorts of new things. After all, what does he do with all the Mora he receives when he's but a puppet who doesn't even need to eat nor sleep?

He looks for no reciprocation nor gratitude, because he unknowingly believes seeing your smiling face because of him is enough to make his entire day. Of course, that doesn't stop you from profusely thanking him and actively trying to lessen all the things being given to you because do you really deserve it?

I'd you asked him, he'd look at you like you're crazy. Why wouldn't you deserve it? Why else wouldn't it be you? Do you prefer I do this for anyone else?

As night engulfs the sky, kissing it with a gentle good bye, the moonlight greets your resting frame. The Wanderer had found interestingly large lily pads that could hold up to 4 persons. Apparently, aranara's use it to navigate around lakes they couldn't get across.

The scenery is wonderful. Fireflies emerge from the shadows, and the lake sings a mellifluous tune every gush of waves it encounters. You were resting well, and his elysian self was beside you.

You were strange, that's for sure. Strange enough he'd like to keep taking you in like you're oxygen, as if you're some sort of life line to live from. Wanderer is not a man with too much words, so he could only gaze up to your figure.

A familliar noise of waddling makes their way towards you, an Aranara falling suit. It bee lines towards your figure, cozing up to your body.

Wanderer picks it up by its head gear, clicking his tongue.

"Hey. No cuddling. You lay beside me."

XIAO.

Xiao melts deeper into your arms as if he's lightweight, surprising you with the sudden return of his warmth.

His touches were featherlight, his firm hands on the small of your back. Fully aware of his fatigue eating away his skin, the Adeptus clutches your figure tightly.

"Sorry.." Xiao's voice was barely above a whisper. You frown upon his state, but your eyes were never pitiful. He knew of that. You say nothing but hold him in your arms in response. Mere moments pass with the wind blowing ever so softly in the sky.

You lull him with soft whispers, sweet nothings grazing his ear leaving out one another. Xiao's a little bashful— he's the one who's failed to keep up with your mundane agendas in everyday life leaving you alone, yet upon his return— you greet him with the best embrace this world has to offer.

After all the events at the Chasm, his encounter with Bosacius, and most of all, the lingering miasma that's been exceedingly abundant within the area, Xiao wasn't able to make time and shake off all the troubles he's facing. The Adeptus lie solemn with the softest look in his eyes gazing at your own. You know full well if he opens his mouth now, all that will come pouring out is his endless apologies that could be recited in millenias.

Instead, your hands gently caressed his cheeks— pecking those pursed lips who let out a soft sigh.

Xiao returns the gesture by holding you waist down, firmly keeping his hands on you. Chasing after your lips it was like something clicked in him the moment you even lent him a moment of your vulnerability. He was hungry, that's for sure. The Adeptus made it obvious with his knitted brows and those piercing gaze.

Amusement bubbled at the bottom of your stomach, letting out a small chuckle. Xiao's confused eyes met yours, questioning your sudden interest.

"You returned to me, that's lovely."

He responds to your claim in a grumble, now averting his eyes. Xiao's hand never leaves yours.

"I have to.." Those hands slowly travel to your cheeks, caressing them in pure affection. "I need to."

my smutty writings are usually the ones who get attention, so I'm wondering how this one will do? 🎶 Anyway, I'm also planning on writing for Honkai Impact's Kalpas 🤞 STAY TUNED

#genshin impact #(⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠)mtchaskz #al haitham #al haitham x reader #al haytham #genshin impact alhaitham #xiao x reader #genshin impact xiao #xiao fluff #genshin impact wanderer #wanderer #wanderer x reader #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #cyno x reader #cyno fluff #genshin impact cyno

[torhues]

tsukishima kei.

"you're crying," tsukishima speaks over your soft sobs filling the atmosphere around an empty staircase.

"thanks for noticing, idiot," even though your throat is soar and you're barely in a position to say something, you manage to utter words of delightful gratitude, or insult, whatever fits the situation better.

he sighs, and you feel him sit next to you. to be honest, he's the last person you expected to see at the moment, and also the last person you wished would see you in your current state.

you don't have anything against again, not at all, but neither of you can stand each other's presence, especially you. perhaps, it's the way he refuses to compromise, or the moments he straight up calls your ideas stupid and lame, always getting on your nerves. tsukishima isn't a half bad student, but he sure is the worst project partner you could've been assigned.

another sigh escapes his lips. "if you would tell me what happened, maybe i can help,"

"yeah, no thanks, asshole," you reply.

"i don't see the need to call me names when i'm being nice to you,"

"jesus, tsukishima, i don't want to talk to anyone right now so please leave me alone," there's annoyance in your voice, hints of anger in your eyes, a frown on your face while you try your best to compose yourself and not break down.

it doesn't faze him.

tsukishima doesn't even blink. in fact, he looks at you as if he's used to seeing you this way. his eyes are still brimming with indifference, or maybe there's a little bit of emotion— warmth— you don't know, it's hard to figure out. reading him is hard because on other days, tsukishima doesn't seem to care.

he takes a deep breath, pulling out his phone from the pocket before leaning against the step behind him. "guess we're staying quiet,"

and you don't know why he doesn't leave.

the typical tsukishima would be with his friend or in a corner of the classroom, sitting by himself with air-pods plugged in. some say he listens to crime podcasts while others have seen him re-listen to the lectures, which could be the reason behind his excellent grades. on normal days, he would call you stupid for minor miscalculations in mathematics, suggesting that you should sign up for remedial classes before it's too late.

maybe, it's the significant change in weather today that has got him acting this way. maybe, he just needs someone to kill his boredom and coincidently, you happen to need someone who would lend you an ear.

"i broke up with my boyfriend," you begin, eyes on the gray tiles, voice low enough to equalize a whisper. "well, he broke up with me, and even though i said that i fucking hate him and that i'm better off without him, it hurts, y'know?"

tsukishima sighs again. it's a lighter one this time, like a sigh of relief, a sigh without stress, a sigh of comfort. you wait for him to speak but, all you hear is silence. for a second, you wonder if it was a wrong decision to tell him this in the first place, and the reason is far beyond the ideologies of sharing your weakness with your biggest rival. to put it simply, you don't think tsukishima is the right person to find comfort within.

he slips his phone back inside the pocket. "you curse a lot when you're angry, or upset,"

"is that what you inferred from everything i told you?"

he shrugs. "perhaps,"

"gosh, i new this was a bad idea," actually, you thought it was a good idea to share a few things with him, just for a brief second. of course, this isn't the only decision you'd be regretting, but you still hope you could go back in time and stop yourself while you still had the chance.

you grab your bag, swinging it up your shoulders before taking a last look at him, hoping he'd say something else, something worth noting instead of initiating pointless talks. when nothing comes your way from his side, you decide to leave on your own accord, for your own good.

"crying over men is lame," his words make you halt in your way. "just saying," and it's surprising and equally fascinating to hear something along those lines from his mouth.

"i know," you chuckle, "but, some of us have it tough out there,"

"you're not some random person. you decked your friend's ex because he cheated on her," first things first, you don't know the need to bring that up. you were in first year and had subpar hatred for people to cheat on their significant others— still do— but the current you wouldn't deck someone. and secondly, you don't know how that has anything to do with your relationship.

"hey, now, that was a different case,"

"you can deck your ex too," he states with a monotonous voice, being ever so serious and certain of his words as if they're wedding vows. "i don't see how that's any different,"

a trail of silence follows. you almost consider his words, almost, and brush off those thoughts from your mind the very next second. you take a look at his face, wondering if he's joking, but reading tsukishima has always been so hard, you don't know if his eyes resonate with a mere prank or if they spell something else out loud.

"minato treated me well, tsukishima," you retort, "i don't know what's going on in that head of yours but, don't make any assumptions,"

the slight necessity to clarify your relationship compelled those words to fall off your lips. although, you did broke up on bad terms, the period while you were with him wasn't half bad. you both had your share of happiness and sorrow, arguments and comfort, just like any other normal relationship would. maybe that's why now that you've broken up, it hurts more, and perhaps, the reason is not him but instead, everything that the two of you had.

"well, you've got other guys out there," once again, tsukishima's words pull out of your thoughts. his expression is ambiguous and his gaze mirror something that you've never seen in his eyes. you take your time to come up with a response, knowing that while his words means more than what they seem to.

and when you don't say anything for the next new seconds, tsukishima stands up, taking a step towards you. "i'm saying, you have me,"

#♡ hues'. #♡ handmade. #haikyuu #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu tsukishima #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu headcanons #tsukishima fluff #tsukishima headcanons #tsukishima drabbles #tsukishima fic #hq tsukishima

[impala-dreamer]

Who We're Pretending To Be

A Story from the YOU Universe

~Joe finds himself getting too close to one of his grad students and he fights the urge to fall completely.~

Joe Goldberg (Jonathan Moore) x F!Reader

5,019 Words

Warnings: NSFW.

A/N: If you've not seen the Netflix show YOU, this may not be your thing. Still a great story, but it helps to know the show. Also, if you've not seen the show, I suggest you get right on that because it is AMAZING.

Set between Seasons 3 & 4. Slight spoilers for s4, but not really. 

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

The classroom seems cold today, like there’s something missing. It’s distracting. I can’t quite put my finger on what’s off, but there’s a charge in the air like something’s about to happen; as if lightning could strike at any second.

I don’t mean proverbial lightning, as none of my students seem to have grasped any of the contextual undertones of the book we’re discussing, but actual, live lightning. If I opened the windows behind my desk just a crack, a bolt would sneak through and bury itself in the base of my skull. Maybe that’s what I need- a jolt of electricity, something to break me out of this fog that crept up around me and climbs forever higher threatening to suffocate me.

I think I’d take the lightning to the skull over suffocation, but we don’t always get what we want.

I’m perched on the edge of the desk when the door opens and Y/N comes rushing in.

Suddenly, all of my attention is on her.

She’s never late. Never rushing, always at least ten minutes early for every appointment, every class. She seems- off today, as well. Perhaps she can feel the imminent lightning strike as well. Wouldn’t that be funny? I find a kindred amongst these idiot grad students who can’t even seem to end this horrid debate.

“I am so sorry, Professor Moore.”

Y/N’s voice cracks a bit, which in itself isn’t very unusual. She’s one of the quieter students I’ve encountered, and the only American in my current circle of acquaintances. Her accent is faint, as if she’s attempting to hide it from her schoolmates. She’s been here a while, I can infer; sprinkling in local slang and adding letters to words where back home there would be none. She’s trying hard to fit in, but why? Why not be herself?

“I got held up by-”

I hold up my hand and smile softly. “It’s fine, Y/N. Please take a seat and try to catch up.”

For fuck’s sake, she’s only twenty minutes late, but it looks like every second has weighed her down like lead.

The others pick up their debate and I sit back a bit, cross my arms, pretend to listen. This teaching thing isn’t as hard as everyone makes it out to be. Occasionally, I toss out an idea and let them run with it. Sometimes, I pay attention, mostly I don’t. Mostly I’m thinking of You. Of how beautiful You looked at that art show, of how You gasped when you saw me like You couldn’t decide if You wanted to run to me or away.

From the corner of my eye, I see Y/N timidly raise her hand and You are temporarily pushed aside. She keeps her hand up but close to her chest, as if the very act of asking to speak is somehow terrifying.

How can someone so brave be so terrified to do something as common as speak in class? She’s clearly not a scared person by nature- she moved across an ocean to attend university when she could have gone for free back home to whatever state college she decided to attend. I’ve peeked at her transcripts- she’s smart. Not win a genius grant or a full ride smart, but smart. Why is she so nervous?

I smile and a bit of her nerves seem to quell. Her shoulders relax an inch and she smiles back.

“You know you don’t have to raise your hand, Y/N,” I tell her, laughing gently to put her at ease.

She dips her chin and then looks up with the most beautiful gaze I have ever seen. Her lashes flutter upwards in slow motion, the darkness of her pupils expand, pushing nearly every fleck of color away except the gemlike glow cast by the stained glass window over my head. She smiles and her lips shine like glass. Soft, pink, beautiful glass. I can’t look away and yet I absolutely have to. Thankfully, she speaks and I can act like I’m moving away to sit in my chair and not to get away from her.

“Sorry,” she says, sweet voice sweeping over the room. “I just didn’t want to jump in because I was late but-”

“But you have something to add,” I finish for her.

Her eyes float back to me and the atmosphere shifts. The foreboding of a lighting strike vanishes and the room seems to warm up. Quickly, I sit and scoot the chair close to the desk, set my elbows on the top, clasp my hands near my lips. I can’t stop staring at her.

She nods. “Yes. If that’s alright.”

There it is again, the tiniest speck of British on her tongue. How long has she been living here, and why? It can’t just be for school. She’s too interesting for that. She dresses to blend in; muted colors and clean jeans, her hair always swept back, face free of plastering makeup or too much color. There’s only ever that pink gloss and a gentle brush of mascara. It’s as if she doesn't know how beautiful she is, or perhaps, she doesn’t care.

Or was she one of those kids who never really got any attention until they blossomed but by then it was too late to fit into their personality?

She chews her lip nervously and shyly looks away from me.

No, she knows. She knows how beautiful she is, she just isn’t one to flaunt it; doesn’t need the attention. Or is that how she draws them in?

She’s already talking, but I can’t hear a thing she’s saying. I can hear her voice, that honey like glaze she adds to things when she’s speaking passionately, but the actual words, the meaning- I can’t follow a damned thing. I’m too busy trying to figure her out.

You flash through my mind for a moment; a sweet memory of a smile in the library when You didn’t think I was looking.

What is it about a smile that says so much without words? Does it show who we really are or who we’re pretending to be?

“I just think that love shouldn’t be so easily condemned.”

Y/N’s comment breaks through my thoughts of You and I clear my throat, straighten up in my chair, focus.

Across the room, Nadia rolls her eyes, clearly disagreeing with Y/N’s interpretation. “This isn’t love, it’s obsession. The two can’t and shouldn’t be intertwined.”

Y/N bites her bottom lip and shakes her head.

What does that lip gloss taste like? Berries, perhaps… No. Stop it. Focus.

“I disagree.” Y/N sits forward and tucks her hands below the table. “Love is obsession. Obsession is love. It’s not a tautology, no, but you can have one with the other. If you’re not even a little obsessed with the person you love, is it really love at all?”

My mind is zinging, my ears ringing. Does she truly believe that, or is it all for the sake of debating Nadia? They’ve been at war most of the semester, but this seems truthful, deep.

The bell rings before I can recenter and add anything. I give my head a little shake and stand up, the chair rolling back behind me.

“Class dismissed. Great job today. Lively, wonderful discourse.” I fake a smile at the rest and then settle on Y/N.

She’s taking her time, hanging back as she gathers her things. She stuffs a notebook into her bag and the pen she’s been using rolls away from her.

“Crap.” She lunges across the table for it, but it’s too close to the edge, too far from her reach.

I drop down at the last second and save it from a dusty fate of rolling across the floor. “Gotcha.”

She’s staring when I stand up. Our eyes meet and she doesn’t shy away, but looks even deeper somehow. A smile lifts her cheeks and my pulse quickens.

No.

She holds out her hand and there’s a fleeting second when I want to trace my fingers across her palm, feel how soft and warm she is, but no. I toss her the pen and turn, trying to get her out of my head.

I have more important things to do than become a tired cliche. Some professor falling for a student. It’s an outrageous thought, and besides, I don’t need Y/N, I have You.

I hear the zipper close and a chair being pushed in. She’s leaving.

She lingers in the door and turns back to me with a sweet smile. “Have a good weekend, Professor.”

Her tone is so genuine, so kind that it nearly knocks me backwards. I can’t remember the last time anyone has truly wished me a good time. It’s such an overused pleasantry, so common and boring, but not when she says it. Not when she smiles at me like that, with her eyes still and focused on me.

The warmth spreading through me is real as well and I can’t seem to push it away. “Thank you,” I managed, barely able to stand let alone return the sentiment. “You too.”

The rest of the day goes by quickly but it feels like forever. Two more classes, two more groups of students droning on about what the author really meant, when none of them, not a single one seems to be able to read between the fucking lines. None of them can step back and see the whole picture, capture the meaning as a universe unto itself and not just a line in black and white on an otherwise blank page.

Y/N could read between the lines. Y/N would understand the sum of it all. She would get it.

Stop. Thinking. About. Her.

On my walk home, I think about You. Wondering what You’re up to, where You are tonight. The sun is setting, dragging the sky down into a deep pink and I wonder if You are seeing the same colors where You are. Someday, we’ll sit together on an island in the Pacific and see what that sunset looks like. Would You paint it for me, I wonder…

Y/N crosses my mind for a moment as I gaze at the light reflecting off a window as I pass. Would the sunset hit her shining lip gloss in the same way? Would the pink deepen with the sky? Would she smile if she caught me staring, back away if I leaned in to drag my thumb across her juicy, pink bottom lip?

No.

Darkness has settled and I haven’t moved to turn on a lamp. I’m stuck, glued to my sofa, my hands nailed to my thighs. I keep my eyes open for fear of seeing her face, but bouncing around the room looking for a distraction is only giving me a headache. I need to get out. I need something to do. I need-

A knock at the door.

Who would be knocking at my door at nearly ten o’clock at night?

Curiosity pulls me off of the couch and I switch on the lights as I head to the door. The peephole is clouded as fuck, but I can see her outline. My stomach tightens, my shoulders tense.

What is she doing here?

Her hand raises to knock again, but I unlatch the door before her knuckles hand. I find her dangling in the air, her startled face the most appealing thing I’ve seen in ages. Her eyes go wide, her jaw drops just enough to give me a peek at her tongue. Quickly, she rights herself and shies her gaze away. She chews her lip and I notice the pink gloss is gone, replaced by a deeper red.

Everything about her is different tonight. Her hair is down and fresh, her eyes are lined in black and the color blended above brings out the prisms in her eyes. Her clothes are strange as well: a short skirt, tall boots, a blouse that’s too tight to hide anything. There’s a gold string around her throat, something old, a gift perhaps from a dead relative, or a chance find at an antique shop. She would like diving through boxes of discarded wares looking for treasures, wouldn’t she?

Or maybe I’m just distracted by her appearance. Maybe I should stop trying to pick her apart and send her far, far away.

I’m not that man anymore. I’ve changed. I’m good. I have to be good for You.

It’s been too long since either of us has said anything and the fact of it is hanging in the air between us like some kind of glowing, awkward sign.

Thankfully, she speaks.

“Um… Hi.”

It isn’t much, but it breaks the painful silence.

I smile, confused but curious. My ultimate downfall.

“Y/N. What are you doing here?”

I should say something about it being inappropriate, something about contacting me only during office hours, but she knows. That’s not why she’s here. I can see it in her eyes.

Her hands are tucked behind her back, I notice. She’s holding something, not just shoving her tits in my face, although, I can’t say that I mind. She sees that I’m looking and turns to the side a bit to hide it more.

She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, calming herself, steeling her nerves. Why is she so nervous? What secret is she hiding? What plan has been brewing all day in her head?

That’s it, isn’t it? She was late this morning, distracted and timid because she was planning to come here.

I should be flattered, but I’m too intrigued by her boldness as she slides past me into my flat.

“I know this is highly inappropriate,” she says, the confession like a song on her lips. “But… I… Well…”

Her nose scrunches up in the most adorable way while she searches for the right words. It’s endearing and makes me want to sit for hours and listen to her talk, discover exactly who she is and why.

I’m still standing in the open doorway, I realize, so I move aside and let it close. My back presses into the door and I hold my tongue, letting her get to the point.

She’s struggling, dancing around it in her head.

I want to crack open her skull and watch the thoughts spark through the gray matter like shooting stars.

“If you’re worried you’ll get in trouble,” I say, trying to get things moving, “you won’t. I’m just wondering why you’re here and how it is that you know where I live.”

She laughs and digs her tooth into the corner of her lip. “I’m not… stalking you or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

I almost laugh. Almost.

“Nothing that nefarious,” she goes on. “But I did do something bad.”

The nerves seem to fall away from her the more she speaks and her demeanor changes. Her voice deepens ever so slightly and her hip pops to the side as she looks me over. Is she… flirting with me?

“I doubt you’ve done anything newsworthy, Miss Y/L/N…”

She takes a step forward and her lips pucker gently.

She is flirting with me.

“I hope not,” she says with a little laugh. “You see, I work part time in the admin office…”

I didn’t know that. I don’t know a lot about her. So many things to uncover, so many artifacts to dust off and examine.

“OK…” I push off from the door and take a step towards her. She counters, stepping backwards, guiding me to follow.

“And, well, I accidentally was looking at your files and-”

“Accidentally?”

She presses her tongue between her front teeth and smiles, eyes falling across my face. “Accidentally on purpose,” she clarifies. “I was… curious.”

“About me?”

Another step closer but she doesn’t move this time, letting me close the space between us by a few forbidden inches.

She sighs sweetly. “A little, yes.”

I dip my chin and look up, lifting my brows in question. She pulls in a quick breath, clearly enjoying the look I’ve given her.

“OK, maybe a little more than a little.”

One more step and I’m closer than I’ve ever really been to her, except just now when she invited herself in. I take a breath and she smells warm like vanilla, sweet like honey. The fantasy of berries on her lips falls away and I suddenly want to bury my face in the crook of her neck and do nothing but breathe in her scent, feel it invade my senses, infect my bloodstream.

Her chest heaves with a heavy breath and her eyes grow a little darker. She wants me.

“Maybe a lot curious,” she whispers, lifting her chin and blinking slowly.

Is she daring me to kiss her? Can she feel the lightning between us? Dare I?

No. She’s a student. She’s off limits. She’s not… You.

She must notice my hesitation and steps back a pace. She clears her throat. “Anyway. I saw that it was your birthday today.”

It’s not my birthday. Not my real birthday, anyway, just the one on the fake passport with the fake name and real photo.

I smile because I have to. “It is.”

Whatever she’s hiding behind her back shifts between her hands. “And, well, it’s presumptuous of me but I’ve never heard you talk much about friends or family and… you don’t wear a… ring. I just… Well, I know how hard it is to be a world away from what you know, and this city isn’t exactly kind in general, so…”

She’s rambling and I don’t ever want her to stop. Her voice ebbs and flows over me like a sultry tsunami and I can feel my fingers twitch, my blood rush through my system faster and faster.

“I just don’t think anyone should be alone or forgotten on their birthday so-” Finally, she reveals the mystery behind her back and holds out a green glass bottle. “I took a chance that you were a scotch man. At first I thought wine, but I know nothing about wine, and the guy at the shop said this one was good, so… Happy birthday, Professor.”

She hands me the bottle and without thinking, I take it. It’s not expensive by any means, but it’s the gesture that counts. She doesn’t let go right away, holding it with me, as if she can communicate her desires through the blown glass.

“Thank you.” I smile, let my finger brush against hers. “This is… very thoughtful.”

She lets go but doesn’t move otherwise. Her eyes are locked on me, her stare so pure.

I have to get her out of here.

Y/N shrugs and smiles, so confident now, so sure. “It’s nothing, really. I don’t even know if it’s any good.”

Her meaning lingers and I nod, gesture to the sofa as I start to peel off the seal on the top of the bottle.

“Join me for a glass?”

She bites her lip again and I nearly lose it.

“Love to.”

The scotch isn’t terrible but it’s not great. More like something you’d grab if you were just looking to get drunk, not necessarily gift someone you’re trying to impress.

Is that what she’s doing here? Trying to get me drunk? Surely, she knows she’s impressed me long before today. The looks between us in class, the lectures directed almost entirely at her have not gone unnoticed, but this, this is different. This is dangerous. She is dangerous.

The sofa suddenly feels too small. We sit close, drinking and chatting about life in London. She tells me about her family back home and how she had to cross an ocean to escape a misspent youth and an abusive father figure. I lie my way through a few answers but mostly, I let her talk.

The more she drinks, the looser her tongue gets, the freer her gestures. More than once, her hand falls to my knee and even though I should, I don’t push her away. Even though I should stand up, take her glass, ask her to get the hell out of my house, I can’t. I can’t do anything but stare at her lips as she speaks, drown myself in the tone of her voice, memorize the shape of her ears, her nose, slope of her shoulder. I’m lost in time with her and even though I know the clock is careening past midnight, I don’t care. I don’t want her to leave. I don’t want her to move. I want to be frozen in this moment with her. I want to die in her arms but not before…

“Professor?” She laughs gently, loose and relaxed from the alcohol. She leans in, her shoulder pressing against mine. “Are you even listening to me?”

Honestly, I have no idea what she’s been saying, but I can’t let her know that. I shift a bit, turning towards her. There’s barely room left for the Holy Ghost, as they say, but I doubt he’d begrudge me a little closeness, especially on my- on Jonathan’s birthday.

“I’m listening,” I whisper, captivated by the way she’s glowing. “I’m always listening to you.”

She squirms a bit and smiles behind her glass, takes another sip, downing the rest. There’s a drop of amber gold on her lip and it takes every ounce of restraint in me not to sweep it away with my tongue.

She pats the back of her hand against it and the moment is gone.

“Ya know, you’re one of the best teachers I’ve ever had. And I’m not just sayin’ that. You really are. I get you. I see you, Jonathan Moore. I see inside you.”

She slurs a bit, but not enough for it to be considered a crime if I touch her. That’s all I want to do, just a simple touch. Just to feel how soft she is beneath my fingers, how smooth the curve of her cheek.

Ripping myself away from the impulse, I take the glass from her hand and set hers next to mine on the coffee table. “I think you’ve had enough, Miss. Y/L/N.”

Her hand lands on my chest, right in the very center of me. Can she feel my heartbeat? Does she know how much I want her?

“You can call me by my name, ya know,” she says, dropping her chin and smiling. She’s so close that it would take but a tiny nudge to taste her. “Everyone just calls me Y/N/N.”

This is insane. She needs to leave. I need to slam the door behind her and never open it again.

“Y/N/N.”

Her name falls from my tongue like an incantation and her eyes go hazy. She leans closer, her breath fanning over my lips.

“Say it again,” she asks, nearly begging, “please…”

Fuck, this isn’t good. I can’t do this. I shouldn’t do this. I need to- Fuck, what does it all matter? She’s beautiful and interesting and smart and sitting next to me barely dressed and all she wants is me to whisper her name. What’s the harm?

“Y/N/N.”

The spell falls over her and I know it’s too late to back away. Her eyes fall closed and she leans in, pressing her crimson painted lips to mine. She exhales, pushes herself into the kiss, lets out a tiny moan.

She feels so good and it’s all I can think about. She pulls back and I lean in, needing more. My arms wrap around her, stealing her away. She melts against me, opens her lips to my tongue. The vanilla on her skin mixes with the scotch on her tongue and I’m blown away.

“Professor…”

If feels wrong, so fucking wrong, but I can’t stop tasting her, can’t stop breathing into her with every ounce of air in my body.

I let her go for a second, thinking she’s changed her mind, but no, she’s even more ready than I am.

She stands up, fits her knees in between mine and slowly unbuttons her blouse.

My eyes are huge, I know it. I must look like an idiot but I can’t help it. She’s here, beautiful and curvaceous, teasing me, undressing for me. It’s all for me. She’s here for me.

The blouse floats to the floor and she looks down at me, a hint of previous nerves returning. Her bra is pale pink and covered in lace. Something so pure and innocent covering up something I would kill for.

I would, I realize. I would kill for her.

She wiggles out of her skirt and her hips are distracting. I want to touch, to feel my bones crushing into hers, to sink myself deep inside just to see what it’s like, to know her, to feel all of her.

“You like?” she asks, innocence ringing in her soft voice.

What happened in her past that would make her ask such a thing? Who hurt her so badly, who crushed her self esteem to the point that she wouldn’t be able to tell if I was enjoying her delicious display?

“Of course. You’re… absolutely stunning.”

I can’t say more or I’ll break. I reach for her and she slides into my lap, locking her thighs around mine. She presses down on me and my cock responds, all blood and logic rushing down to push back at her ass.

She wraps her hands around my neck and bends to kiss me. Her fingers tangle in my hair, she curls them, tugs gently, testing, enjoying. Her kisses deepen and her hips roll. I’m about to lose my mind.

“I’ve wanted to do this since the first day of class,” she moans, scraping her nails across my scalp.

The sensation is intoxicating and my eyes roll back a bit as she tugs hard. Her right hand is locked in my hair and her left is dragging down my chest. I should stop her. I should stand up. I should…

“Fuck.”

Her hand sneaks into my slacks and she scoots back onto my knees for better access. I can’t even think straight as she rubs at my cock. Her hand is soft, warm, firm. I know I’m moaning, but I can’t help it. I might just die here beneath her.

Her tongue glides across my lips. “So hard to sit in class and not dream about fucking you…”

Something snaps inside of me and I let go. I grab at her tits, peel the delicate lace down and pinch her nipples hard until she’s crying out and arching against me.

“I can’t even read anymore,” she admits, nearly breathless as my lips seal around her left nipple. “Every page makes me think of you. I can hear every word in your voice. I- oh God-”

I bite down just enough to stop her train of thought and I look up to see a blank, beautiful stare.

“I want you,” she whispers, lips never quite closing after.

Fuck. This is what I was trying to avoid. This feeling, this hunger inside of me. This need to fall into someone else, this treacherous lust that forces me to act.

“Please…”

Her hand falls to the nape of my neck and it’s so delicate, so tender that I break.

Wrapping my arms around her, I stand and twist, flipping her over onto her back. She gasps and reaches for me, kissing through the shock while I tug the slacks from my hips. She yanks at my shirt, fumbling with the tiny plastic buttons, licking at every new inch of exposed flesh.

“Want you inside me so bad,” she sings, nearly praying as if I’m some ancient god on high that can make all her dreams come true.

I don’t know about all of them, but this prayer, I can answer.

I tear the lace from her hips and fall down over her, crushing her into the old sofa. Her breath stops for a blessed second and I swear I can hear her heart racing through the silence. She runs her hands across my shoulders and down, curling them around my hips while spreading her legs wider.

“Please… Please… Please…”

Her whine is pathetic but I can’t get enough. If I had it in me to drag this out, to tease her for hours, I would, but the scotch has clouded my head and the sight of her strung out and desperate makes it impossible to wait.

She inhales hard when I sink into her. I can feel myself falling but I press my hands beside her head and hold on as best I can.

She feels like heaven.

Or the closest thing to heaven I’ll ever know.

Wet and warm and tight, I can feel her throbbing around me. Every thrust is like magic, making her shiver and squirm and tighten up even more. She clings to me, nails digging into my arms, mouth searching and thirsty for more.

“Jon-”

I almost go insane. It’s not even my name, but it feels so right on her lips that I wish it was.

I feel her orgasm; her body clenching down on me and pulling me in deeper. It’s so hard not to scream her name at the top of my lungs. Nearly impossible not to stay here forever.

I fall down, shove my face into the crook of her neck and thrust a few more times. I know it’s over too soon, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

She rakes her hand through my hair, gently this time, and finds my lips, kissing me sweetly.

“Hi,” she laughs when our eyes finally focus and find each other through the afterglow.

God, she’s beautiful. So giving, so loving, so perfect in a million different ways that it’s actually breaking my heart.

I smile and peck her lips as I go soft inside of her.

“Hello, You.”

2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@alwaystiredandconfused @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @impalaspixie @jackles010378 @kazsrm67 @k-slla @leigh70 @lyarr24 @nancymcl @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @sexyvixen7 @suckitands33 @the-wounded-healer05  

#joe goldberg x reader #joe goldberg x you #you tv series #you netflix #one shot

[darkstarofchaos]

It is finally time to talk about Megatron and Starscream.

Spoilers for Transformers EarthSpark under the cut.

So to start, it's fascinating to me that people are only now complaining that Megatron's characterization isn't consistent. I've thought it was inconsistent ever since episode 8, and it's only after episode 21 that I finally feel satisfied with his portrayal.

Way back in episode 3, Bumblebee asks Megatron what he would do if his troops weren't listening to him. Megatron's answer was, "When I commanded legions of Decepticons, my strategy was always intimidation. A little brute force, make a show of my weaponry, that sort of thing." He also mentions a "signature move" called the Turbo Twister, and while the details of what that is are lost to an explosion, it's pretty clear that he was using violence to keep people obedient.

Compare that to episode 8, which he spends complaining that Optimus has no problem locking up Decepticons despite not trusting GHOST. He doesn't want to use excessive force on the Cassettes when fighting them, rejects the use of devices that trap bots in their altmodes, and generally just doesn't like how the Cons are being treated. At the end of the episode, Optimus allows Megatron to let the Cassettes go, and Megatron tells Optimus that, "Perhaps your leadership style is not so different from my own."

Um. Excuse me, sir, but did you or did you not advocate for violence as a means of controlling your troops?

That's a blatant contradiction, and honestly, Starscream's "You don't know the real Megatron," sums up my problem with Megatron's redemption perfectly: we don't know the pre-redemption Megatron. We don't know what he was like when he led the Decepticons. We don't know why none of the Decepticons joined him when he allied with the Autobots. We know nothing about pre-redemption Megatron. Nothing beyond his own, cheerful anecdote about how he kept his troops in line through intimidation, and a later remark in episode 16 that, "A human soldier showed more compassion for my people than I did" (note that there is no contradiction between Megatron's self-assessment and his approach to disobedience).

Except now, thanks to the newest episodes, we do have something else. We have Starscream's assessment, and he describes Megatron almost the same way Megatron described himself: "The ruthless tyrant who ruled over us with fear and intimidation." Starscream did not say anything Megatron himself hasn't been telling us, and yet it's only now that Megatron's behavior gets labeled a contradiction?

But that's not why it's being called contradictory. I know it's not. So let's get to the heart of the issue: it's not just any Megatron who hears that Starscream has escaped and Does Not want him roaming free. It's a redeemed Megatron. It's a Megatron who argues against Decepticons being kept in cages, has a human partner, and shows nothing but patience in dealing with the Terrans.

It's a Megatron who, on learning that one of his most troublesome soldiers has escaped, falls straight back into old habits.

We have no direct evidence that Starscream was as rebellious in this continuity as in others, but I think it can be inferred. Megatron described intimidation as his approach to dealing with disobedience, and Starscream starts to treat Hashtag the same way when she refuses to obey him - then backs off when she calls him on it. So we know Starscream wasn't very obedient, and that he was "disciplined" often enough that he outright tells Megatron he doesn't feel safe with him ("Nowhere is safe if it's with you").

This matters because, when Megatron hears about Starscream's escape, it's not just some Decepticon. It's a mech Megatron could never properly control, who probably ignored orders and did his own thing constantly. Starscream isn't just an escaped Decepticon: he's a bot Megatron has been controlling with violence for who knows how long. And when that bot is no longer contained, Megatron slips back into unknown years' worth of learned behavior. Because he never had an opportunity to unlearn it. How could he, when Starscream has been locked up and Megatron didn't have to think about him?

But he doesn't stay in that mindset. Yes, he attacks Starscream on sight. But he backs down when Hashtag intervenes (he's already lowering his weapon before she's even said two sentences in Starscream's defense), and he makes no further attempt to capture Starscream. Quite the opposite: at the end of the episode, he extends an offer of safety, and when Starscream rejects that offer, Megatron just... lets him go. Just like he let the Cassettes go back in episode 8.

Megatron's redemption wasn't somehow undone because he made a bad decision on impulse. Not if all it took for him to change his mind about Starscream was seeing him try to save Hashtag from the Dweller. If anything, it showed that Megatron is committed to his new ideals. Even if he slips up sometimes, he isn't going to return to his old ways. And I don't know about anyone else, but I needed that.

I have spent the entire season doubting Megatron's redemption. It didn't feel like redemption; it felt like the writers just wanted a nice Megatron, and his old mindset could be handwaved as, "Well, he was bad once, but he's good now". Seeing him default to old behavior, even just a little, connected the Megatron we know and the one we only hear about in a real, tangible way. And at least to me, that makes his characterization stronger.

Of course, there's still that contradictory comment about Optimus' leadership style being "not so different" from Megatron's. But I don't think a single line of weird dialogue is worth getting worked up over.

#transformers #Transformers Earthspark #Earthspark spoilers #Spoilers #Megatron #Starscream

[dutchdread]

“She is is envious of the bond Cloud has with Tifa”

Genuine question here because I see a lot of CloTi discourse talk about how Aerith is envious of Cloud and Tifa’s bond, but is this ever mentioned officially or explained? I can’t find one single inference or implication that she is, only that one could argue via subjective interpretation that she maybe wants to try to learn Cloud for who he is and not who he reminds her of.

Arguably, one could say that this interpretation is inherently describing an envy, but I’m looking at it from the perspective of Aerith wanting to learn who Cloud is in an effort to like him for him and not Zack.

(Full disclosure: I’m actually a huge CloTi, but I’ve been out of the fandom for a decade+, and I’ve been reading a lot of discussions on the LTD, and while my personal opinion is that CloTi is more or less canonical at this point, the nuance that they’ve developed with Aerith that just wasn’t there in OG is interesting/perplexing to me because I don’t have a full scope of info. And I like it when things are proven by the devs. It’s possible that there’s information I’m missing or have missed, but otherwise what I have consumed doesn’t seem to indicate she’s envious of Cloud/Tifa’s relationship specifically.)

The idea that Aerith is envious of Cloud and Tifas bond became a thing mostly after Rebirth. Before that it was also put forth at times when someone did a character study of Aerith and the evidence back then was mostly just that it fit and made sense. In essence it was an amateur diagnosis. We saw in Remake that Aerith had unresolved issues concerning her childhood during the Eligor scene, that combined with what we learned about her childhood in TotP made it so that a lot of her outgoing "life affirming" behavior made a lot of sense if she was, in essence, trying to catch up for lost time. She's enthusiastically, perhaps even desperately, trying to have the same experiences everyone else has, to have a normal life. This is also congruent with other parts of the story, like her seeing Zack in Cloud. If Cloud reminds her of Zack, and she had a bond with Zack, then watching Cloud and Tifa express that same young love that she once felt would naturally lead to her wishing she had that. After all, we've known for a long time that Aerith still isn't over Zack, so her being slightly envious of that is natural. And that doesn't have to be a bad thing. You can be happy someone has something and because of that have a positive longing to experience something similar. But where this was really made explicit is in Rebirth, where there are multiple scenes that hint or outright state that Aerith wishes she had something like what Cloud and Tifa have. The main two being the Kalm "date" and the watertower discussion. In Kalm Aerith takes Cloud on a date as a pretense to talk about the prior night, and almost the first thing she does is mention Cloud and Tifas friendship and mention that she'd have given anything to have a friend when she was growing up. As soon as she thinks of their bond her first thought is to link it to her own desires.

She continues by saying to not take Tifa for granted. Since this is something Aerith lacked she thinks it's important, and the idea of it being sullied or undermined instinctively bothers her. She wants them to value it as much as she would value such a thing. This is not her living vicariously through Cloud and Tifa or anything, but just a small nuance that paints the picture of a girl who yearns for these bonds herself enough that she is hyper aware of them with other people. All this is then stated explicitly on the water tower, where Aerith states: "Must be nice..."

She generally willfully daydreams about how nice Nibelheim is. It all paints the same picture, a girl without a childhood who never got to experience the things that Cloud and Tifa had and lost, but wishes that she did. This is a huge part of her character and establishes the background needed to understand stuff like "no promises to keep". Some people are upset that NPTK is not a love song from Aerith to Cloud, but a deeper look into Aerith shows why it would be weird for it to be one. Because Aeriths journey isn't about romance, it isn't even just about Cloud. It's about her experiencing and developing the bonds that she felt she was denied for so long. The song is "even about Tifa and Barret" because it's about all the precious bonds she made on her journey. It's one of the things that makes Clotis version of Aerith superior to the Clerith version, because we give her so many more layers.

#ffvii #cloti #ffvii rebirth #ffvii remake #cloud strife #aerith gainsborough #tifa lockhart #ff7

[staryuee]

“you’re such a cute couple!” — genshin hcs ⸝⸝

— [warnings]. not proofread but is that a surprise ehe, also some are pretty short bc i had writers block :((

— synopsis . . . you and [char.] get mistaken for a couple — but it seems this comment fluttered the heart of your ‘friend’ a little too sincerely.

— characters . . . heizou, tartaglia, jean, shenhe, kazuha, xinyan

— notes . . . GAAAA IM SO SORRY FOR NOT POSTING :(( i haven’t been feeling the greatest :’p im sort of getting back into the swing of things tho ^^ expect some more gushy fluff on the way

general backstory :

a banal monday afternoon, with you and [char.] linking arms and just slowly strolling the town, enjoying the soft breeze and the warmth of the sun. you two looked so at peace together, it was difficult for outsiders to not sneak a second glance at your puppy love.

during your little wander you stumbled across a generous elderly lady who flashed you two a gentle smile. as you were about to return the gesture, she says, “you’re such a cute couple! we rarely see such pure love in youngsters nowadays.”

S. HEIZOU

what exactly were you meant to say to that? you couldn’t break it to the poor lady..and plus you didn’t want to offend heizou by making it seem as if you’re completely disinterested in him. you side-eye him in hopes his sharp thinking skills will come out to guide the situation. instead, however, you feel his body tense up and a rosy tint appear on his ears.

he coughs into his hand for a brief second, he glances over at you before responding to the lady; “thank you, i think so as well.” he winked at you. you both said your farewells to the lady, and as you walked once again with linked arms you remembered the words heizou said.

“what did you mean when you said, “i think so as well?” your gazes met each other and for a second it seemed like time froze.

“well, what i more so want to say is that i like you, and being seen as yours is something precious to me.” heizou really had a way with words the sly bastard !!! the heated embarrassment rushed up to your cheeks as you let your face be hidden by your hands.

“now, i don’t have to be a detective to infer that that reactions means you’re interested as well, am i right or am i right ?” he chuckles, pulling you into his chest to let you hide and gather your thoughts for a while…

TARTAGLIA

he is a family man and he absolutely respects his elders so he literally cannot lie to this poor grandma and shatter her fantasy. so, instead, he whispers you a prior apology before taking your hand in his with that bright grin of his and responding, “haha! we appreciate your compliment, we really do love each other a lot im glad it shows.”

seriously for being a literal fatui harbinger you’d think he’d be much more reserved and secretive.. but no, here he was going on and on about his ‘supposed’ love for you and your idyllic relationship to this random grandma that mistook you two for a couple. although, childe truly does have a peculiar way with words as you became rather flustered with each lie that he made up.

eventually, the conversation was dropped and you both continued your stroll, not before you noticed that tartaglia was very insistent on still holding your hand even though the situation has been sort of dealt with. “hey uh, ch- tartaglia, you’re holding my hand..” all he does is send you a look that sends you butterflies in your stomach.

he grins at you, “i know, i’m just hoping that more people mistake us a couple so i can prove a point.”

“prove what point?”

“prove that we belong together.”

G. JEAN

you can feel jean tense up as her head is clearly thinking of a million of excuses she could give the poor woman, but perhaps she malfunctioned since the reply that she gave was not one you were expecting, “uhum..tha-thank you! it’s an honour to have someone as [name] by my side, i’ve really been blessed.”

you know better than anyone else that jean would not be the type to lie so frivolously about her feelings and opinions, especially when it comes to you therefore you couldn’t stop yourself from looking away in slight embarrassment at the thought that jean truly thinks of you like this.

“haha, no worries, take care of yourself ma’am.” was the first thing you heard as you snapped out of your little daydream. jean looked composed to an extent, she still radiated that same knightly and trustworthy exterior but you could feel that she was rather anxious after that interaction.

“[name], um.. sorry for rambling about you for so long, i guess when thinking or talking about you like that i really can’t hold back.” you’re not sure if jean had realised the impact that could have on your heart because she said that so nonchalantly as if it were rehearsed.

“hey jean, did you mean those things you said? like uhm, everything about how you’re happy with me?” you asked, your eyes failed to look at her you were afraid your heart might jump at the pure glance at her. a mild silence erupted, the breeze fanned your skins delicately while the dandelions glided in the air. jean mustered up the courage and took your hands together, “everything i said was completely true, forgive me for being so brazen ..but it’s really hard to keep my feelings hidden from you.“

SHENHE

shenhe knows she loves you, whether she understands what type of love it is; platonic, romantic, familial etc - she doesn’t know however it’s clear to her , her admiration for you is not the same one she holds for people like yunjin, cloud retainer or lumine. the lady’s words come as a real surprise to shenhe, she doesn’t even fully understand how friends are supposed to interact let alone couples.

you don’t want to make her more confused than she already is, or to make her uncomfortable so you deny it, “sorry, we’re not together but we are really good friends!”

“oh dear, my apologies! such a shame, you two would look quite nice together.” she smiles up at you both, taking a minute or two to bid her goodbyes before she leaves.

after walking for a while you noticed that shenhe hasn’t been responding for some time now and instead has been lost in her own thoughts, “heyyy, earth to my lady shenhe~” you poke her cheek in a way to break her out from her own thought.

“sorry, i was just thinking,” you pause and stare at her with a gentle smile, she gazes back at you, “it would be quite nice to be a couple.”

K. KAZUHA

his eyes shift to you to sense any discomfort in the topic, kazuha doesn’t enjoy lying and he doesn’t really know how you feel about you two being ‘together’ as of yet, “apologies, it seems this is a misunderstanding. [name] and i are simply good friends.”

while his words did sting slightly, the ache in your heart was numbed by the fact kazuha’s cheeks and ears were blooming a pretty rosey colour. you two walked off with this newfound tension in between you, kazuha internally cursed himself for allowing a simple misunderstanding to linger in his thoughts so vividly. “so, would my lovely kazuha care to explain why he was so flustered?” you seemingly popped his thinking bubble as he flinches and stares at you for a good minute with this puzzled expression.

his gaze softens and he sighs, looking away from you to stare at the distant greenery ahead. “kazuuuhaa~ answer me already!” you huff out, your patience was running very low at this point.

“sorry, somethings on my mind right now.” he at last responds, although his response isn’t at all satisfactory and almost seems like a coverup. you give him the look of, ‘i know you’re chatting shit but just tell me what’s the matter’. he laughs in amusement, patting your head as he does so. “to be honest, i never realised just how happy i’d feel if people saw us as a couple.”

XINYAN

“haha! thank you, unfortunately, [name] and i are just great friends. but they are absolutely adorable aren’t they?” she squishes your cheek to amuse herself. the grandma beams at you two, “such a shame, you’d be quite lovely together don’t you think?“ perhaps xinyan’s conscious was much more focused on teasing you because she absentmindedly replied, “hehe, absolutely!”

obviously during the moment, you were attempting to come up with excuses as to why she agreed, ‘maybe she was caught in the moment’ or ‘she just didn’t hear the question!’ yet despite your own self esteem, your cheeks were quick to heat up as the other side of you was hoping the words she said were true.

“alright, goodbye nana! be safe!” she yelled, waving to the lady while walking. she kept her hands on her cheeks the entirety of your journey, her expression was unclear but she look pretty dazed. “hey xinyan, you alright? you’ve been spacing out.” you poke at her.

“eh? oh so sorry [name]!! it’s just that..well aha..after being mistaken for a couple i cant help but feel a little happy.” as soon as the words escaped her lips, she smacked her own mouth closed as a fiercely red colour bloomed on the tips of her ears. you yourself weren’t doing so great as her sudden confession (does it even count as one?!) leaves you flustered and speechless.

you’re gonna have to talk more about this after xinyan stops hiding her face from you..

©IHEARTGANYU do not copy, steal or repost <3

#this took forEVERRR im so sorry :’(( #i’m on my break now so hopefully i’ll be able to write more +_+ #genshin x reader #genshin x gnreader #kazuha x reader #heizou x reader #tartaglia x reader #jean x reader #shenhe x reader #xinyan x reader #genshin #genshin x gn!reader #genshin x you #genshin fluff