#and people blame him for being self absorbed?? like of course he is!!

[moremousewrites]

Alone With You

Pairing: Rolanxf!Reader

Summary: Rolan has been taking out his anger on you ever since you've arrived at the Last Light Inn. You finally get fed up and snap at him, which leads you feeling bit guilty. You try to make it up to him and let him take out his anger on you yet again

Tags: smut, PiV sex, degradation, hate sex, light angst, tail sucking, face fucking, creampie

Of all the people you could have found in the depths of the shadow cursed lands, why did it have to be Rolan. You groaned as you watched him fire off magic missles, clearly overwhelmed by the wraiths that were clawing at him. 

“Why couldn't he just stay at the Inn?” You grumbled to yourself, rubbing your hand down your face. You were in no mood to be dealing with his egotistical bullshit. You told him you would save his siblings. 

You ran down the hill, your party in tow. The look of despair on Rolan's face was hard to miss. Shadowheart made quick work of two of the wraiths and you finished the others with a few focused attacks. The fight was over in moments and Rolan approached you, fuming.

“Gods damn it all. I can do nothing right- not a damn thing!” He yelled to himself, though his ire was pointed at you. It had been all night. Ever since you stepped foot in the Last Light Inn, he'd been taking out his rage on you. You knew it was misdirected, he was scared and insecure. But your patience was running very thin.

“You shouldn't be here, Rolan” you said through gritted teeth. The tiefling had every right to be upset, but he was really grating on your nerves tonight.

“Yes, I should,” he challenged. “I came here to save Cal and Lia. Instead, I found myself in need of rescue. From you… of all bloody people” he scowled at you, referring to you as if you were the scum of the realm.

You gripped the lantern so hard you thought it might splinter. “Unbelievable. I have been nothing but nice to you, you self absorbed prick. You wanna do something for your siblings? Stop trying to get yourself killed for your ego, sober up, and pull yourself together” you chastised him, fed up with his attitude. 

Rolan looked as though he had more to say, but held his tongue and walked back in the direction to the Inn. You figured it was for the best. If he said one more thing you thought you might smack that repugnant look off his face. 

You watched him conjure a transportation spell back to the Inn. He stomped his way into the bar and the portal closed behind him. Rude he didn't offer to transport you as well but at least he was gone.

“Gods, he's a piece of work” you said, rubbing your temples from the stressful encounter. 

Shadowheart raised a brow at you. “Is that what you think of him?” She asked, in a curious manner.

You eyed her, suspiciously. “I think he's probably very scared about his siblings being captured and he's blaming me because that's something he can control right now,” you explained, not very comfortable with her tone. “I also don't care to be his stress relief. He can deal with it like a big boy or deal with it alone. It's not my problem” you were firm in your resolve. Whatever she was implying, you weren't taking the bait.

“If you're sure” Shadowheart shrugged and walked on. Of course you were sure, you just explained it to her. 

You walked the rest of the way in silence, too irritated to say anything productive. You noticed the bar at the Inn was empty. Maybe what you said to Rolan finally got through to him.

A small part of you felt bad for chewing him out and you felt you should apologize before he took off again. You asked Jaheira if she'd seen him and she shrugged. She mentioned he might have gone to a spare room but she wasn't sure. You thanked her and made your way around the Inn. After looking in some of the guest rooms  you started to think he'd gone off again. You checked the Inn more frantically, scouring every room until you found one last door. 

For some reason, you felt the urge to listen through the door. You pressed your ear against the wood and tried to silence the loud beat of your heart in your ears.

At first, you heard nothing. Then, after a few moments, you heard his voice. It was strangled, and low. Unlike how you'd heard him speak before. Almost as if it were a purr. You were so relieved to hear his voice you didn't even process what you were listening to. You immediately knocked on the door.

“Zurgan- leave me alone!” you heard him answer from the other side of the door. His voice was pitchy, like he was straining from something. 

You rolled your eyes. “Rolan, it's me, we need to talk” you placed your hand on the door handle, clicking it open.

“No! No- don't!” opening the door, you were at a loss for words. The wizard apprentice was sprawled out on the bed, shirt removed, fisting his cock with fervor. You shut the door behind you. “Gods damn it, why did it have to be you? Why is it always you?” He let go of himself, dropping his hand on the bed and giving you a stare that could cut you into pieces. 

“I'm sorry, I-” you started to apologize. 

“No, enough of your sorries! You have no respect for my life, for my privacy,  or anyone's for that matter. You just go around involving yourself wherever you think it makes you important and don't stick around to see it through” he ranted at you. You couldn't tear your eyes away from his cock. It was still fully erect. 

“I'm sorry” you walked over to him, eyes taking him in. His normally upkept hair was completely disheveled and framed his face which was glistening with sweat. He'd been fucking his hand furiously. The image it brought to your mind filled you with a heat deep inside you. 

He guffawed at you, furious. “Did you not hear a word I said? Are you dull?” he watched in awe as you sank to your knees at the side of his bed, eyes looking at him in expectation. 

Rolan sat up to face you, feet on either side of you, his cock poking at his navel. “You think I want to fuck you? After everything you've done to me?” He fisted your hair and tilted back your head. You noticed his tail was twitching excitedly. 

His eyes followed yours to his tail and he groaned. He stood, grasping your jaw so it hung open. “I'd tell you to breathe but I don't care,” he said before thrusting into your open mouth. 

Even with his big talk, he showed restraint. His hips only rutting shallow thrusts and he was clearly focused on slowing his pace. You gripped the backs of his thighs, pulling him closer. 

“You brat” he huffed, thrusting harder. A mischievous thought crossed your mind and you narrowed your eyes to look up at him. You were going to be a brat, alright. Your hand moved upwards, carefully locating the base of his tail, and you grasped it lightly.

Rolan's shocked sputtering was a satisfying result of your plotting. He pulled you off of him in a quick motion and grabbed your wrist. “What is wrong with you?!” He sounded exasperated.

“Oh you didn't like that? It kind of felt like you did when your cock was twitching in my throat” you grinned at him.

Rolan pulled you onto the bed, grunting as he did. He was deceptively strong for a wizard. You were bent forward, your ass lifted for him as your face pressed into the mattress. “Will you just shut up already?” he pulled your pants down your thighs and you felt his tail wrap around your naked thigh, firmly. 

You felt the head of his rigid cock press against your hole. You could tell you were soaked as he pressed the tip against you. Letting out a loud whine, Rolan snapped his hips, driving himself into you. “I said shut up!” He set a bruising pace, forcing you down into the mattress with his hips while a hand pressed your shoulder down. 

You could feel his infernal ridges dragging against the walls of your cunt, pulling out to slam back into you as you moaned out his name.

“The brave adventurer moaning my name like a whore. What would your friends think if they knew you were taking a foulbloods cock like a dirty slut? Fucking pathetic” he pounded into you harder, his tail flexing against your leg. 

Your back arched deeper and you rocked your hips to his thrusts. The sound of skin slapping against skin was echoing against the walls of the room, only to be quieted by your moans. 

You looked back to your thigh to see the tip of his tail was twitching frantically. He was restraining it. You reached back and stroked the tip with your thumb, eliciting a strangled moan from the tiefling. Cautiously, he unfurled it and let you take it in your grasp. You lightly ran your fingers on the edges of his tail, testing the sensitivity while he tried to compose himself. It was clear by his sporadic pace and breathy moans that his tail was incredibly sensitive. As an experiment, you ran the flat of your tongue along the tip of his tail. Rolan nearly collapsed on you.

“W-wait” he stuttered, composure lost. He'd stopped moving entirely, disappointing you.

“What's wrong?” You asked, innocently. You pressed a kiss to his tail and felt him shudder around you.

“It's too much, really. I won't last” he breathed out. 

You licked again, lighter this time, then gave a dark grin. “I don't care,” you said before stuffing the tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tail and humming. 

Rolan cursed at you and lifted his leg onto the bed to fuck into you mercilessly. The unforgiving pace and intense angle was overwhelming. You were fastly approaching your climax along with him. Rolan felt as your cunt clenched around him and in an effort to bring you to completion, he brought his fingers to your clit to finish you off, making you squeal around his tail.

The combined pleasures of your orgasm and your mouth pushed him over the edge, causing him to come deep inside of you. In his exhaustion, he grabbed you and collapsed on his side, still buried in your aching cunt.

For a while, you didn't say anything. His tail had slipped out of your mouth and his spend was seeping out of you while his cock softened. But you laid still in his arms while the afterglow diminished. 

From behind you, you heard a faint sound. He was saying something so quiet you weren't sure you were supposed to hear it.

“What?” You asked, quietly. 

“I said I'm sorry” he replied. You nodded, not wanting to press on the issue. 

“It's okay. Do you want me to stay?” You asked, unsure of what he needed. 

Rolan didn't respond for a moment, ashamed to say yes. Ashamed to say he needed you again. That you really weren't the bane of his existence and that he was scared of being alone. Instead, he held you closer.

#bg3 #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 rolan #rolan #rolan x reader #rolan x tav #holy rolan empire #rolan/tav

[viiinz]

everyday I think about him (Ippolit Terentyev)

#idk why of all characters he's the one that has left such an impression on me but oh boy #it's been over a year since I've read his 'explanation' and everything that followed and it hasn't left my mind since #ippolit terentyev #the idiot #god all he wanted was some sympathy and recognition #and they just make fun of him #literally all this boy wants is to be taken seriously and no one does #they either laugh at him or beg him to shut up #because his vulnerability and the fact that he's dying makes them so uncomfortable #and he's so ashamed as well over his own vulnerbility #that even when people aren't laughing at him he'll imagine they are #and people blame him for being self absorbed?? like of course he is!! #he's EIGHTEEN and DYING #this is a teenager who's just come to the realisation that he has no agency over his life whatsoever #and that all that awaits him are the cruel laws of nature #he has a right to be upset about that #he's literally the man condemned to death that myshkin talked about #and yes he's ridiculous and awkward and not always right and incoherent and all that #and he can really be insufferable and contemptuous and unfeeling towards others #and even the state he's in doesn't really serve as an excuse for that #yet i feel bad for him #and he's such a teenager too he's so insecure and just wants to impress the people around him #and yes he's doing it for attention #of course he wants attention #can you blame him?? #all he wants is to be heard #to feel like his life mattered #but instead everyone's just begging him to shut up #like they're just waiting for him to kick the bucket so the uncomfortable ordeal can be over with #sorry i just have a lot of thoughts about Ippolit and I'm being very incoherent because i didn't plan on typing all this lol

[carlyraejepsans]

What did you think of annihilation? Any details you noticed?

REALLY loved the cancer symbolism there. and the way it ties in with the main character's affair. in the initial conversation with her husband when they talk about god, she says god makes mistakes because if it weren't for a certain "biological error", the cell's reproductive cycle would make us immortal. this is, of course, bullshit, as the psychologist makes evident in their discussion about suicide vs self destruction. "not many people commit suicide. a lot of people self destruct". lena looks up when dr ventress lists off ruining a happy relationship as one of the examples, closely tying her to the cell lifespan symbolism when ventress mentions that cells die because it's already programmed into their dna (something lena knows well, being a biologist). death NOT as a mistake by god, as a programmed stage of our life cycle. and what does lena say after her last time sleeping with her colleague?

"This was a mistake."

and the issue is: as harrowing, as unfair as preprogrammed, by-design mortality is, a cell that doesn't die and keeps reproducing forever is, well... a cancer. which is exactly what the shimmer is. it refracts everything, it combines dna regardless of species, it creates doubles, it absorbs and transforms, not so much killing, as annihilating what it touches as a consequence of complete genetic reshuffling, engulfing it into itself.

it's god's so-called "mistake" in cell dna (and thus, as an established parallel, human nature)'s tendency to self destruct that finally stops the shimmer's expansion. when lena gives her clone the grenade and takes its hand to set it off, she essentially teaches it to self destruct, like any (ironically) healthy cell would. no more immortality. no more cancer.

the final scene between lena and kane was also very... interesting. i think if i were to interpret it in any way, i'd say it's a kind of reflection on a biological ship of theseus. in the same way one would ask "if most (if not every) cell in your body dies and is substituted every so and so years, is it even still you"? kane committed suicide. he killed himself and let his clone take his place by lena's side, because his answer to that question was... no. and he couldn't deal with it. lena, as previously mentioned, self destructed and "won" against the shimmer as a consequence. unlike her husband, she remained "her original, non-alien self". kane doesn't think he is the same, and we can't blame him for it. but still, he turns the question over: are you? because she may not be an alien clone, but the shimmer changed her too. cells don't destroy themselves as a mistake or for fate, they do it to prevent cancer, save energy, and maintain the health of the organism. dying, changing, replacement, self destruction: they're all a part of our lives.

she doesn't answer. in the final shot, her eyes change color like his. alien. different. changed.

is she still the real lena?

does it matter?

#GOOD MOVIE #MMMMMM #you know those stories where the symbolism is so juicy you can sink your teeth in #answered asks #annihilation

[gabrielsbubblegumbitch]

It doesn't seem to get discussed very often, but what's it like to have comorbid ASD and NPD?

hard

No but seriously it's like playing Squid Games when you don't know the rules (and everyone else does). How do I suppose to get my social validation without understanding what people expect from me??

Also it makes treatment very hard because line between maladaptive NPD pattern and adaptive ASD strategy is very blurry. For example, one therapist told me that I need to stop thinking so much about how other see me. Because that's narcissistic and constant performing prevents me form forming genuine connections. Okay Gretchen, but have you ever experienced consequences of smooching your classmate on the lips in front of everyone because being 7 you were convinced that kissing is just expression of love and you loved your best friend? And you had no idea that people have different boundaries and it's socially unacceptable for girls to kiss girls, even platonically? Cause I did and that's why I know I can't just "stop thinking" what is acceptable, and what is not. Not only for my own benefit of being liked but also to not make others uncomfortable.

It's also a constant internal struggle to identify if something I do/feel is just me being autistic (normal, I can't help it) or me being narcissistic (bad, evil, should be treated). Or maybe it's all narcissistic, I just use autism as an excuse because narcissism is undesirable pathology so ofc as a narcissist I would like to distance myself from it? Seriously stigma around narcissism fucked me up. Additionally it severly influences the way NPD is treated by medical professionals. One German psychiatrist I know told me that his hospital avoids giving poeple NPD diagnosis because "it's like telling someone that they are certified shitty person". My friend I met during the group therapy was constantly criticized for forgetting about stuff and being "insensitive to others needs" and therapists blamed it on his narcissism, that "makes him so self absorbed he's incapable of paying attention to the outside world". It turned out the guy just has ADHD. It's seriously such a struggle to explain people that suppose to help you that you are not that bad, you are not careless, you seriously want to be a well adjusted person but there are some things you cannot easily change.

Also it fascinates me how little research exists about connection between NPD and neurodivesity (I have some theories why's that but I don't have enough evidence to make any serious claims). It's an anecdotal evidence but out of 11 people with diagnosed NPD I know, 7 of them have ASD or ADHD. And to me it makes so much sense because one of major factors influencing development of NPD is feeling of inadequacy. Yeah, constantly failing at social interactions and basic chores while everyone seems to be doing just fine and you have no idea what you could do better makes you feel pretty fuckin inadequate. Of course there are other things required to form PD but that's a great start.

#npd #asd #adhd #private #psychology

[demoneyecandy]

Lust and Love - Part 1

Work: Lust and Love (Part 1)

WC: 6.4k Relationship: Asmodeus x Reader, Asmodeus x MC AFAB reader, she/her pronouns and gendered terms used for reader Warning: Explicit, Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Yes, my Asmo is probably ooc, do I care? Not really. He’s my poor little meow meow and I’ll decide why he’s crying.

Description: Asmodeus is having trouble with self-destructive habits, as usual, but this time M/C is there to break him out of his spiral. He shows his appreciation in a very on-brand way.

The fifth-born knew that people talked about him. How could they not? He was simply the most interesting being in all three realms, who could blame them? Some would call him flawless, confident, and sensual – he wasn’t prized in the Celestial Realm for nothing. Others called him vapid, self-absorbed, apathetic, loose, among other nasty comments. If anyone asked, he’d reply that he didn’t pay any attention to the haters. Why would they matter when everyone else knows he’s perfect? And if anyone noticed that after a day with more insults than usual Asmo would be tanked within half an hour of leaving the house? Well, that was just a coincidence. They all know he loves to party, don’t make it a bigger deal than it needs to be.

With the introduction of social media to the Devildom his behavior only spiraled out of control. Devilgram served as a permanent reminder that no matter what he did he would not be universally loved. For someone like Asmo, that was his weakness. The insults cut a lot deeper than he would ever show. His whole identity was based around being desirable. He was the Avatar of Lust, not a scumbag or shut-in like his brothers.

Though the people leaving those comments kept their voices down when he passed them in the halls at RAD, the anonymity of the internet emboldened them. The negative comments were quickly reported by his fans but that didn’t stop them from being burned into his mind. From the more basic “whore” and “stuck-up bitch” to the more involved, “Who does he think he is? He’s not that cute”, “Idk why this loser has so many simps”, “bet he only has this many likes on his posts because he fucked them all lmao”, he had gotten all types of negative comments on his social media posts. When he would complain to his brothers in his usual over-the-top fashion, eyes full of tears and voice several octaves higher than it needed to be, they would shrug him off the same way they did when he told them about his favorite hair product line being discontinued or missing a sale at Majolish. In a way, that was probably his fault – if he gave two things the same weight in the way he presented the problem, of course his family would assume it was just Asmo being dramatic again.

Sometimes at night, when memories of the war haunted him, he would open his phone and scroll through the comments on the Devilgram posts he’d made that day. Anything to occupy his thoughts. The positive ones faded into the background – he knew he was beautiful; he knew he was a fashion icon, and that his skin was flawless. He also knew he wasn’t worth the attention he received, and yet he craved it more than air. He’d re-read every nasty thing that had been said about him, letting the words sink in and join the swirling torrent of self-hatred in his head. He genuinely didn’t know why he did it – maybe the same reason he’d go out and indulge in his sin every night he could. Diavolo had once tried to get the brothers to speak to some counselors after they fell, and his counselor had said his behavior seemed like a form of self-harm. That was the last time he saw that poor excuse for a therapist – how in the world could pleasure be harmful? Of course, there were the times where pain was involved, but that was all consensual. He’d never allow anyone to mar his gorgeous skin. He had already spent ages trying every suggestion he’d ever received to make his scars fade to the point that they were nothing more than barely-there pale lines from cuts and missing spots of pigmentation from burns, he certainly wouldn’t risk adding more. He felt like everyone could see them, like everyone was staring, but he knew rationally that they were only noticeable to him.

When the exchange student had first arrived and he had discovered that she was immune to his abilities, he wasn’t ashamed to admit he had spent a few nights making his way through the highlights of his little black book. His booty calls were proof that he was desirable in the form of men and women writhing in his sheets until the early hours of the morning. When he realized that she liked him anyway? That was the best he had felt in a long time. On the outside of course he played it off, keeping up his flirtatious banter with the human. But to realize that there was someone who liked him, not because of his charm? Or because he could make them feel good? It was exhilarating and terrifying. Sure, she likes him now, but what about when she realizes what everyone else has? That he’s nothing but a bed warmer with a pretty face? He dreaded that day. It was coming sooner or later, he knew it, so he would just do his best to keep the human from seeing any of the cracks he covered up with product.

It was one of those nights tonight. He broke a nail and the visible imperfection sent him into a tailspin until he could get to his room and fix his manicure. As he waited for the polish to dry, he was scrolling through the comments on a selfie he had posted during lunch at RAD. M/C had said he looked cute, so he wanted to believe it, but here he was. Giving so much weight to the opinions of people who couldn’t even say shit to his face.

His spiral was interrupted before it could really get going by a knock on his bedroom door. If it were anyone else he’d yell at them to go away, but he knew from the pattern of the knock that it was M/C.

“Just a moment, darling” he called.

Jumping out of bed, he walked over to his vanity to be sure his hair was perfect and his lip gloss didn’t need to be reapplied.  As satisfied with his reflection as he could ever be, he put on a smile and made his way to open his door. Leaning sensually on the doorframe, he gave M/C his best “fuck me” eyes as he greeted them;

“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the most delectable human in the three realms. How can I help you, dear?”

M/C’s face lit up and she laughed at the demon’s antics.

“I’m having some trouble winding down for the night, and I thought I could relax here for a little bit. It’s so calming when you play with my hair”.

Asmodeus was both relieved and frustrated as the human walked past him and settled onto his bed. On the one hand, his spiral had been interrupted before he could do anything particularly self-destructive. On the other hand, it meant he was all amped up with negative feelings and no real outlet for them. There was none of the catharsis that comes along with making bad decisions. It was like that dread and anxiety and self-hatred was sitting in his gut, but he certainly wasn’t going to let M/C see him crack if he could help it. He slowly shut his bedroom door and sat next to where his human had made herself comfortable on his bed.

His eyes roamed her body, lingering just a bit too long on her plush thighs and the peek of skin where her pajama top rode up. It took her a second, but she realized where his eyes were lingering, and she quickly pulled down her shirt. That was fine by him, all it did was expose her collarbones, which he took in just as happily. She blushed and turned away, hoping to regain her composure before he noticed the red tint in her cheeks. She had no such luck, but it was cute that she thought she could hide anything from him.

He did his best to keep the predatory glint out of his eyes. The demon knew that if he came on too strong she would back off, like she had on the few occasions he’d run into her after a night out and his confidence got the best of him. The next morning he would pretend he had blacked out, but he treasured the memories of the trembling of her frame beneath his hands when he’d come in close to whisper in her ear some of the naughty thoughts he’d had about her and the startled noise she’d made the time he slapped her ass on his way up to bed. It had been just his luck that Mammon had been at the end of the hallway, so he’d gotten quite the talking to from Lucifer the next morning. Something about not taking advantage of the exchange student, how he had to show more respect, the reputation of Diavolo’s exchange program, blah blah blah. The only thing he had cared about was that it hadn’t been M/C herself who’d told Lucifer, it had been a jealous brother. He had, in fact, felt a lovely spark of lust rise up in his human on every occasion he’d gotten bold from the (frankly, impressive) amount of demonus in his system. After all, he’s a demon, not a monster. Sexual assault is anathema to sexual pleasure and therefore unacceptable at every level for the Avatar of Lust. Sometimes late at night when he’d touch himself he’d remember how she’d looked like a deer in the headlights, so afraid of his touch but so desperately wanting it just the same. Other times, when he was feeling more sentimental, he’d think of her laugh, her smile, the way her eyes softened when she looked at him.

After she thought her face was back to normal (it wasn’t, but he wasn’t going to be the one to tell her that when she just looked so damn cute), she moved around until her head was in his lap and her body was stretched out in a pile of his softest blankets, grabbing his hand and placing it on her head in an unvoiced demand for him to stroke her hair. His heart melted – this was all she ever asked of him. At the same time, a small voice in the back of his head spoke.

You know why she doesn’t try to fuck you, right? You’re not good enough for her and she knows it. I’m sure she’s fucking one of your brothers instead. She’s found someone who could satisfy her in a way you never could. After all, you’re nothing but a placeholder. Easy and good enough for a night, but why would she want you when she could have them? Why would she want damaged goods? A vapid, self-obsessed, pathetic excuse for a demon. You were a shitty angel too.

He shook his head almost imperceptibly, trying to will the thoughts away. He busied himself running his hands through M/C’s hair, carefully untangling any knots he found along the way. Her eyes had closed, letting herself sink into the feeling. There was a gentle smile on her face, and she raised her chin to lean into his touch, leaving her neck completely exposed. Vulnerable. She was allowing herself to be entirely vulnerable with him, a being who could slit her throat in an instant, or tug her hair hard enough to pull her head clean off her body. He felt tears well up in his eyes at her trust, but the thoughts kept coming, taking him back down into that bad place he had been heading for before M/C came to his door.

You’re nothing. She knows you’re nothing, and that’s why she isn’t afraid. Your pact makes you useless, you couldn’t hurt her if you wanted to. You’re a declawed kitten. Pathetic. Why would she want you? She has her pick of suitors in the Devildom, you wouldn’t even make the top-10. She pities you, that’s why she lets you touch her.

M/C had thought it was strange that Asmodeus had been quiet, but she figured he must have been tired, so she wasn’t going to bug him when he was already doing her a favor by calming her down for the night. Truthfully, she had just wanted to see her favorite demon. He had been more withdrawn at home for the last few weeks, spending more nights out at The Fall locking lips with anyone in arm’s reach and chugging demonus like it was water. She was mildly concerned for him. His brothers had said that he got in moods like this sometimes, but at least he wasn’t bringing home a new demon (or demons) every night. M/C wasn’t going to admit it out loud, but she was a little jealous hearing about his past behavior. She knew it was silly, it wasn’t like she even knew him then, and she had no say in what he did in his spare time. It wasn’t like she was a virgin either. Still, Levi had looked at her knowingly when they’d told her, recognizing the envy welling up in her.

She realized that something was wrong when she felt wetness drip onto her cheek.

“Asmo?” M/C opened her eyes, greeted with the most disheveled version of the Avatar of Lust that she’d ever seen. Not that that said much, she rarely saw him with a single hair out of place, but seeing his eyes puffy and tear tracks down his face was enough to seriously concern her. She sat up slowly, reaching to grab his hand from where it had paused in her hair.

“What’s wrong? Did something happen?” her thumb gently stroked across the back of his hand. Rather than the gesture comforting him, as she’d hoped, he made eye contact only to begin audibly crying. Still unsure what was happening, she pulled herself up onto her knees to face him, bringing her other hand to his face and holding mimicking the motions she was making on the back of his hand along his cheekbone. She tried to keep the movement steady, methodical, to give him something to focus on so he could calm down enough to tell her what was happening. He leaned into her touch, grabbing her hand with his free hand and holding it there like he was scared she’d disappear if he let go. She shushed him quietly, reminding him of her presence whenever he seemed to be retreating into his own head.

Neither of them know how long it was before Asmodeus’s sobbing turned into pathetic little hiccupping, his eyes long since dried out. They sat in silence for a few minutes, each of them too afraid to drag them back to the present moment. M/C spoke first.

“Can I get you anything? Some water? A washcloth?”

He nodded, avoiding eye contact out of sheer embarrassment and fear of what would happen next. The one thing he didn’t want to happen above all else had happened, and now she was going to steer clear of him. He was sure of it.

Reluctantly, he let go of her hand as she went to his bathroom in search of what he needed. Now alone on his bed, he felt so small and so fragile. He had only known M/C for a very, very small faction of his very, very long existence, but somehow he couldn’t imagine going back to the way things were before he’d met her – especially as she continued to live in the House of Lamentation and develop her relationship with his brothers and the residents of both the Demon Lord’s Castle and Purgatory Hall. He knew she was kind and patient, but all his mind would let him see was her laying under some nondescript body, laughing about how pathetic the fifth-born was as she was pleasured by someone else, letting the world know how weak and inadequate he was. That he was an embarrassment to his title. He would have kept crying at that point, but he wasn’t sure his body even had that much water left. This was going to do such a number on his skin, he’d really need to step up his game with his skincare routine. Going through his plan of attack was enough to focus his mind and calm him down in the few minutes it took M/C to find a drinking glass and a washcloth in his enormous bathroom.

The human handed him the glass, waiting for him to drink half before she took it from his hands to place on his nightstand. She gently wiped his face with the damp cloth, knowing he’d feel better without the salt staining his skin. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had been so delicate with him, treating him like a valuable rather than something easily replaceable. The thought made his heart hurt, and brought with it a new wave of thoughts about how he wasn’t treated like that because he really wasn’t valuable. That his human was mistaken and she’d know it soon enough. She’d seen the first crack in his façade, it wouldn’t be too long now before she saw the rest.

As she went to get up to place the washcloth back in the bathroom, he made a little noise and grabbed for her hand.

“Asmo, I have to put this away. I’m not going anywhere, I swear, I just don’t want to leave something damp on your bedsheets”.

Reluctantly, he let go, and she went back to the bathroom as quickly as she could. Asmo had always been needy, this wasn’t news to anyone, but rarely had she seen him so desperate. Sometimes, when it was just the two of them, she could see peeks of the Asmodeus he wanted to hide from the world. She knew the fall had been traumatic for all of them, but she wouldn’t pretend to know the extent of that kind of trauma. It wasn’t something that was her place to draw attention to, because no matter how much she loved them she knew that just love wasn’t enough when it came to dealing with something of that gravity. They needed to share at their pace, if they ever felt comfortable sharing at all. All she could do was hope that this was some kind of turning point for him, and that he was ready to be open with her. Well, as open as was healthy. Baby steps, right?

The demon visibly relaxed when she came back towards him. Climbing over him, she laid down on ‘her’ side of the bed as Asmo called it jokingly (it wasn’t a joke but he was pleading the fifth on that question). She made grabby hands, and a relieved Asmodeus rolled into her side, resting his head on her chest and winding an arm around her waist. She set her chin on top of his head and wrapped her arms around him as best she could. She knew he needed to feel completely safe if he was going to talk about whatever had just happened.

The two laid together for a bit, the sounds of the house creaking and his brothers going about their business throughout the house breaking up the quiet in a way that made it palatable. Finally, Asmodeus spoke in a voice lacking all of his usual bravado and charm.

“So, I’m guessing you’d like to know what that was about”.

“If you feel comfortable sharing. I’m here for you, Asmo, you won’t scare me away. You just have to trust me”.

A beat of silence passed before the man took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was definitely going to be a painful conversation on his end.

“I… I’m not sure where to start. You know what they called me in the Celestial Realm, right?”

A nod.

“The Jewel of the Heavens. My face, my body, my charm, it was something our Father truly valued. I was beautiful, and that’s how I earned my keep. I was an ornament. I didn’t mind it much at the time – why would I care when it was nothing but a positive? Even Lucifer loved to show me off, his beautiful little brother. The pride of the Celestial Realm”.

M/C maintained eye contact, not daring to interrupt but wanting to show she was listening. She moved one hand up to stroke his hair, like he had done to her a million times before.

“When we fell… I don’t think there’s any kind of corollary in a human life. I went from an admired figure, praised for my beauty, to nothing when I made the decision to rebel with my brothers and Lilith. I don’t regret my decision, don’t get me wrong, Lilith was one of the most wonderful beings I’ve met in my life. I still miss her even now”.

The demon broke eye contact, trying to hide the quiver in his voice as he thought of his dead sister. The pain of that kind of loss never actually goes away and it’s harder some days.

“The point is, as a result of that decision, I lost everything that I knew about myself. By the end of the war, I was covered in big, ugly scars, stripped of my status as an angel and turned into a demon - a being that I had been told since I was created was inherently evil, wrong, and unlovable. It took me years before I could look at myself in a mirror again. I wasn’t Asmodeus, Jewel of the Heavens. I was Asmodeus, a vile, unlovable Thing. I had to feel something again, I had to be someone again. That’s how I ended up like this – I found a way I could feel loved again, even if just for a night”.

Or, he thought to himself, more often an hour in a nightclub bathroom.

He continued speaking, too scared to look up at his human’s eyes and see disgust or contempt in them.

“I will never be the me I was again. Never. Even thousands of years later that isn’t something I’ve fully come to terms with yet. I feel broken and wrong. On good days I really do mean what I say – that I’m beautiful, irresistible, absolutely perfect in every way”.

His voice took on a lilt and a small smile twisted the corner of his mouth as he remembered the feeling of power that comes with his moments of genuine confidence. However, as he began again, his voice sounded unsure again and so very small.

“On bad days, it’s all I can do to get out of bed. If I’m not beautiful, if I’m not wanted, what’s the point? What’s the point of any of this? Sometimes, when I make them chase me, when I let them put their hands on me, I feel like I’m wanted. Just for a little while, and that’s enough. What more could I ask for? After all, I’m not Mammon, can’t get too greedy”.

He tacked on a joke at the end, complete with a clearly forced laugh, trying to lighten the atmosphere that had settled over his room. He felt M/C press her lips to the crown of his head, still stroking his hair softly. She wasn’t quite sure how to respond, and she knew she had to be careful with the next thing out of her mouth.

“Asmodeus, you are worth so much. To so many people. To your brothers, to all of our friends, to me. I’m so proud of you for sharing that with me, it can’t have been easy”.

As she looked down, seeking his eyes, the demon saw only compassion in those eyes. It was a strange sight for him, and it made him feel something inside that he knew he had felt before, but he couldn’t quite remember when. It felt like there were butterflies in his stomach. There was some tension between them. Though it had an element of lust, it was moreso the unidentified emotion. He didn’t know what to do about that, so he decided to go with what he knew best- lust. Acting on muscle memory, he reached up to pull M/C’s head down to his. Surprised by Asmo pulling her down into a kiss when moments before he had been so vulnerable, M/C gasped and froze, allowing her pactmate to gain the upper hand.

The kiss was hungry and desperate from the start, definitely not how she imagined their first kiss beyond a casual peck on the lips, but it felt too good for her to dwell on that for long. With his tongue exploring her mouth he moved from his spot curled up on her side to get completely on top, pinning her in place. He held her wrists firmly above her head and his knees kept her thighs in place. His grip on her was somehow delicate and firm at the same time. The two let out little moans and pants between kisses, each losing themselves in the feeling of the other’s clothed body on their own. When Asmodeus separated their mouths, she followed his lips as far as she could, needing more. He shot her a look as though telling her to stay put, and she obeyed. His eyes were blown wide, glowing like a sunset. It was more out of habit than anything else since they knew his charm did nothing to her but it was undeniably beautiful.

The demon traced down her neck with messy kisses. If he weren’t a demon, she’d think he seemed like a man possessed. Between little nibbles and sucking, he panted out everything he was thinking, as if speaking it into her skin would make it so. When she concentrated, she could make out some of what he was saying over and over, almost like a prayer.

“I’ll be so good for you. I’ll make you feel so good, you won’t regret this. This will make you love me, I know it”.

She didn’t like to use her pact, but he was too lost in her body to listen if she asked nicely and his grip was too strong for her to break.

“Asmodeus, stop”.

He froze, a confused and hurt look on his face.

“Did I do something wrong?”

His eyes glowed brighter, as if subconsciously trying to fix whatever mistake he had made.

“Let go of me”. She tried to keep her voice even and maintain eye contact. She wanted to convey that she wasn’t upset, but he was clearly panicking inside his head.

The demon released her wrists, placing them on his own thighs. He tried to look away, ashamed, but the human gently directed his gaze back to her with a finger on his chin. She sat up against the pillows, trying to seem as serious as she could with disheveled clothing and red marks blooming all over her neck.

“Do you think that this is out of pity?” She desperately hoped that she had been reading into it too much, that he knew what she had been afraid to say. Her fears were confirmed when he cast his eyes downward and to the side, staring into space rather than meeting her eyes.

“Asmodeus, I can’t possibly imagine what you went through. You are so strong for going through that and still managing to be the funny, caring, genuine person that I know. What I do have some experience with is needing to feel wanted so badly that I’d let people touch me even when I wanted nothing more than for them to stop. I also know how absolutely garbage it feels when it’s over and they leave without so much as another word, I would just feel so used”. M/C’s eyes teared up as she remembered the feeling, but she blinked them away, willing herself to focus on the man in front of her.

“I never, ever want you to feel that way again. Not if I can help it. I love you, Asmodeus. Let me show you how much”.

A smile finally crossing his lips, albeit a small one, Asmo nodded. This time it was the human who brought their lips together, though their kiss was just as passionate as before. She caught the demon by surprise, rolling them over so she was the one pinning him to the bed. He looked up at M/C with pure adoration in his eyes, electrified by the love he saw reflected in hers and the lust he felt emanating from her soul. Finally confident that they were on the same page, M/C poured all of the affection she could into every touch, every kiss. She felt his hands travel up from their place on her waist to cup her breasts through her pajama shirt, moaning at his touch. Her sounds spurred him on, letting him regain some of his confidence. If there was one thing he knew he was an expert on, it was pleasure. He played with her nipples through her clothing and treasured every noise he was able to pull from her. Each gasp, every sigh, just emboldened him more. By the time he had stripped her of her top, he was fully in his element.

“Asmo”, she begged, “please, let me touch you too”.

She shifted her weight back onto her knees to make room for her demon to get out from under her. Readjusting so they laid side-by-side facing each other, they took the moment to stare into each other’s eyes. M/C’s smile was contagious, and Asmodeus couldn’t help but smile back. She hadn’t even touched him yet and she was already better than his fantasies. He hadn’t dared to let himself imagine her loving him, and he was going to treasure every second he got with her.

Her shaking hands made their way from his abdomen up to his chest, tweaking his nipples just to hear the noise he’d make before she got to work unbuttoning his pajama shirt. The more she teased him with brief touches, the more he squirmed for her. He was this close to ripping it off himself, and he really liked this pj set - he thought it brought out his eyes. Before he could finish deciding if it was worth popping the buttons off and maybe even a few seams, he felt the soft skin of the other’s hands finally trail up and down his torso. The demon made a noise almost like a purr, reminding M/C of his inhumanity in a thrilling way.

“Touch me”, it came out more as a breathy whisper than a demand, but she listened all the same.

Leaning over him to kiss down his neck and chest, the human used one hand to support her weight near his head and the other to trail down his body, stopping to cup his growing erection through his pants. An unexpectedly loud moan cut the air as she bit gently down on his nipple and began to stroke his cock.

“Shhh baby”, she said in a voice he’d never heard from her before, “You don’t want your brothers hearing and coming in here to stop us, do you?”. It was only then that he remembered he hadn’t locked his door earlier. From the grin spreading across her face as she looked towards the door, she knew it too. Asmo had never seen her look more mischievous in the whole time he’d known her and he was living for it. He was pretty sure he was witnessing the creation of a monster and he had no regrets, except that they hadn’t done this sooner.

Taking his silence for agreement, she got up only to kneel on the floor at the edge of the bed. She motioned for him to sit up and strip, which he did gladly. She took in the sight of his cock hungrily, eyes glazed over imagining what it would feel like in her pussy. He had seen that look many times and knew exactly what was going through her mind. Still, if he didn’t tease, would he even be Asmo?

With his bottoms thrown towards his laundry hamper, he spread his legs enticingly and grabbed the base of his cock. He stroked himself slowly, seeing M/C’s eyes fixate on a drop of precome on the head.

“Do you like what you see, my dear?” She could hear the grin in his voice. It was comforting to hear him sound like his usual confident self again.

“Very much”. Her hands began to rub along his thighs, appreciating the lean muscle she felt underneath her fingertips. “Can I taste you?”

“I thought you’d never ask, darling. Show me how you worship me in your daydreams”.

Her face lit up bright red. He couldn’t know, could he? He was just guessing, it was just dirty talk… right?

Swallowing the embarrassment she felt at the idea that Asmo knew the content of her fantasies, she began to rub soothing circles into his skin and kiss up and down his inner thighs.

“Oh sweetheart, I know you do more than that in those dreams of yours. How about you keep going, and you let me know if any of this rings a bell”. At this she began nipping at his skin every few kisses, soothing over any bites she made with her tongue.

“Let’s see, I think one of my favorites so far was in the library the other day. It was you, me, Satan, and Levi studying for the upcoming Seductive Speechcraft exam. About the time we were doing our individual reading, I recall you having some particularly interesting ideas. How did it start again?”

Her hand replaced his own stroking him, placing gentle kisses on his balls. She didn’t want this to end too soon and, honestly, she was curious if he actually did know what she had been thinking or if he just picked up on her getting horny that day and was trying to mess with her.

“Ah, yes”, his breath hitched as she dragged her tongue up the length of his dick, swirling around his head, only to kiss back down his shaft. “We were studying together, the same four of us that were actually there, but Levi and Satan got up to get a snack for us all. Once they left, I turned to you and told you how beautiful you looked”.

M/C’s hand sped up, and she leaned down to start sucking on the tip of his cock, keeping a steady pressure, and feeling proud at the flush in his cheeks. Slowly, she began to take him inch by inch in her mouth.

“I think after some flirting it took a rather raunchy turn, so let’s skip to the good part. I distinctly remember you dreaming of me sticking my hand down your panties and fingering you open, whispering sweet nothings to you the whole time”. M/C’s moan was muffled by the dick halfway down her throat, sending vibrations up Asmo’s cock. The sound of pleasure he made in response caused her to rub her thighs together, her own arousal obvious.

“What happened next? I think I lost my train of thought..”. M/C had gone down on him as far as she could, her nose nestled in the well-trimmed pubic hair on his pelvis. Asmodeus threaded his hand through her hair, pulling it up into a makeshift handle. She moaned, knowing what was about to happen. Asmo giggled, appreciating how eager she was for him to use her.

“That’s right”, he stared down at the woman with hooded eyes and his cocky grin, clearly back in his element, “you begged me to fuck your face”. Gripping her hair, he pulled back and thrust back into her mouth, hard. He let out a delighted gasp as her throat constricted around his dick.

“Darling, you feel so good, you’re such a good girl for me”, M/C’s eyes rolled back at the praise and as Asmo picked up the pace of his hips, she could do nothing but relax into his grip and let him use her. As his hips stuttered, she could feel him approaching his orgasm. Asmodeus made the most erotic sound the human had ever heard as he pulled her face flush to his body and released down her throat. M/C quickly swallowed, eager for more of him. He panted gently as he came down, relaxing his grip and transitioning to slowly smoothing her hair. The pair sat there for a moment to catch their breath.

“Holy shit”, M/C was the first to break the silence.

“Holy shit is right”, Asmodeus replied with a hungry grin. He reached a hand down to pull M/C up from her knees and into his lap. The two embraced, and Asmodeus felt himself hardening again at how he could taste himself on her tongue.

“Your turn now, sweetheart”, the demon cooed. Before M/C could say a word, the world spun and suddenly Asmodeus was laying on the bed and she found herself on her knees above his face. He licked his lips in anticipation before lowering her onto his face.

Maybe it was a demon thing, or maybe it was an Asmodeus thing, but the way his tongue moved on her clit and between her labia was like nothing she had experienced before. His mouth was hot, and wet, and almost electrifying as it managed to pinpoint her every weak spot. Every time she ground her hips into his face, embracing pleasure instead of running from it like she had with so many other men before him, he rewarded her with a moan, sending vibrations up into her body. The closer that M/C got to the edge, the harder she pulled on his soft curls, forgetting her own taunts about his brothers hearing and getting progressively louder. She came with a desperate cry of his name, squirting onto his face, which the demon excitedly lapped up with his tongue. M/C rolled off of his face and flopped bonelessly onto the bed. Asmodeus wasted no time climbing on top of her and bringing their lips together yet again, this time with a ferocity she had only imagined in her most erotic dreams. The feeling of his hard cock on the soft skin of her thigh made them both shiver in anticipation.

“Are you ready for me?” Asmodeus began, “I meant it before when I said I’d make it good for you. I want to make you cum harder than you’ve ever cum before”.

“Well,” M/C said breathlessly, “mission accomplished”.

“Oh honey,” the demon laughed and his eyes began to glow again, “you have no idea what I’m capable of”.

Let me know what you guys thought! I’m going to write a second part if there’s interest. Cross-posted to AO3 with the same username. Thanks for reading <3  

#Bee's writing #obey me smut #obey me asmodeus smut #obey me x reader #asmo x reader #asmodeus x reader #asmodeus smut #obey me fanfic

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Idia & Rollo: A Tale of Two Brothers

HI I’M WRITING ANOTHER ANALYSIS BECAUSE I’M STILL GOING CRAZY OVER GLORIOUS MASQUERADE PART 5 🤡 *honks clown nose*

***Spoilers for chapter 6 of the main story and Glorious Masquerade!***

***CONTENT WARNING: extensive mentions of death and allusions to suicide and suicidal ideation.***

This analysis was inspired in part by this illustration; Idia and Rollo are both standing trial for their crimes. However, notice that while Rollo is frantically defending himself, Idia stands calm, almost accepting of his fate and awaiting judgment. Please keep this illustration in mind, as I believe it to be an apt visualization of both the similarities and the differences between the two.

On a surface level, there isn't that much that's the same about Idia and Rollo. They don't even "speak the same language", as Rollo expresses confusion at the slang Idia uses when referring to gargoyles as Malleus's "oshi". Idia is socially anxious, introverted, and nerdy, with hobbies and interests such as video games, idols, and manga/anime. He's intelligent, but he's also self-absorbed, often bragging about his own genius or making inventions just to make his own life easier (such as a tablet so he can attempt classes remotely). Idia also has a habit of insulting others for "not being on his level", or even talking them down or acting frightened when they exceed in areas he doesn't deem important, such as athletics. On the other hand, Rollo is far more astute and serious, setting high standards for himself and for others. Despite this, he does well with people at a superficial level and is well-liked by his peers. He is practical and sparing about how he uses his intelligence and magic, usually only limiting them to scenarios which they are necessary to utilize.

However, if there is one major, glaring similarity between Idia and Rollo, it is this: they both love and care for their younger brothers--and they both lost those beloved brothers in tragic accidents, which deeply affected their courses in life and their mindsets as they grew up. What's more, they both became emotionally closed off from others as a result. The difference here is how they coped with their losses and came out the other side.

Idia has been groomed from birth to be the perfect heir that will eventually succeed his father as director of S.T.Y.X. and the Shroud family itself, which oversees the Underworld. Because of this, he has usually been contained to his studies and scarcely saw the outside world. His younger brother, Ortho, who was not burdened by these responsibilities and loved playing with Idia, one day convinced his older brother to sneak out with him to play in the world above. When Idia disarms the security systems to aid in their escape, a Phantom escapes and tragically ends Ortho's life. This incident traumatized Idia to the point where he stayed in his room for roughly 2 years, barely asking anything of others but spare parts. During this time, he invented a robotic version of Ortho to act as his brother, aware that the A.I. would never be able to replace the original that was lost. When the events of episode 6 occur, Idia is able to finally acknowledge Robo!Ortho as his own person, and comes to terms with the original's passing. He decides that he must live on, and gradually opens up to his classmates once he has this revelation.

Rollo's younger brother unlocked his magic before Rollo did. (I will call the unnamed younger brother "Brollo" for the sake of simplicity.) From a brief flashback at the end of Glorious Masquerade, we know that Brollo truly loved magic and using it because it made Rollo happy when he did. Unfortunately, this magic (presumably a fire spell) got out of hand one day and ended up consuming Brollo. Since then, Rollo cursed magic, blaming other magicians for not intervening to rescue his sibling. Then, in a horrible twist of fate, Rollo discovered his own magic after Brollo's passing. Not only does Rollo turn out to also be a mage--one of the people he detests for not helping his brother--but his own unique magic, something that defines him as an individual, is driven by negative emotions and engulfs him in flames... More fire, just like the fire that took Brollo from him. Rollo not only experienced that trauma, but let that trauma fuel him and become an integral part of his identity. This would later convince him that magic is a "sin" that tempts people and decide that it would be better off if Twisted Wonderland were robbed of all of its magic. He cites his motivation for taking such an extreme stance as "saving" others. Even when he is defeated and apprehended by the NRC boys, Rollo holds fast to his beliefs and refuses to admit to any wrongdoing.

Notice where their paths diverged.

Idia was in a situation where he was more directly responsible for Ortho's death. If he hadn't meddled with the security, the Phantom would have never escaped and Ortho would not have been gravely injured. Because of this, Idia accepts the burden of responsibility and feels immensely guilty due to his involvement. This is a good deal of the reason why he shut himself away from the world following Ortho's death and why he has issues with socializing for so much of the main story; Idia feels ashamed for what he has done, so he turns to his own interests as a way to cope with it. Without Ortho there to encourage him to reach out to others and attempt at friendships, Idia falls victim to his own hopelessness. Why bother making friends? Why bother reaching out? His future has already been decided for him, and the one time he tried to avoid his fate, someone he loved was lost to him forever. It's pointless and futile to try, and he says as much in episode 6. All of the test subjects will have their memories of their time gaming wiped--so why be friendly with them and enjoy himself? It's all meaningless. Idia's guilt turned inward, and whether he realizes it or not, everything he does is an unconscious reflection of that guilt, right down to the defeatist attitude he adopts following the initial trauma.

Rollo is the opposite of Idia; his guilt turned outward, and he never came to accept it, so it ended up poisoning him and his perception of the world. This explains why Rollo took extreme actions against all of Twisted Wonderland, whereas Idia was contained (again, internalized guilt) and only Overblotted when tempted by the promise of reuniting with his dead brother.

To go into more detail with Rollo... Sebek mentions in Glorious Masquerade that he cannot understand his motives; if Rollo hates magicians and magic, and Rollo IS a magician, then does the logic not follow that Rollo, by proxy, must hate himself? Idia echoes this sentiment when confronting him, accusing Rollo of actually hating himself the most for being powerless to help Brollo. That's... most likely true, given the circumstances, but notice that it is Sebek and Idia that have to say this for the audience to understand, rather than Rollo monologuing about it. Why? Because Rollo is in denial about his internal conflict. Time and time again in the event we hear him talk about how OTHER people are disgusting, how OTHER people misuse their magic... and when he talks about his own magic, he refers to it as "a curse", "a burden". It's clear he views magic, including his own, as a very negative thing. Rollo's wording is especially telling when he has been beaten, weeping over the loss of his flowers, his salvation, even though he has been claiming all this time his actions were for the good of OTHER people, not himself.

Unlike Idia, Rollo was not the direct cause of Brollo's passing. However, Rollo must feel responsible in some part (whether consciously knowing or not), as it is implied Rollo indirectly encouraged his brother's use of magic (because seeing Brollo's magic made him happy). He must have also felt an immense guilt for not unlocking his magic sooner, for not being capable of stopping the magic from raging out of control. But Rollo, being powerless at the time, did not direct his anger at himself, but at the people around them. Blaming others is just an easier solution than accepting blame yourself, and that was the route Rollo went down. However, in refusing to acknowledge the part he played himself, it caused more hatred to fester. Rollo could never be happy, could never be satisfied, because everywhere he looked, he saw sin--but not within. Like Idia, he emotionally closes himself off from others, not speaking about his experiences to others and instead writing them down in journal entries... but Rollo takes it so, SO much further, spending years and years plotting his "salvation" to come into fruition. He tries to justify this to himself and to others as a means of saving them, but as Idia rightfully points out, that's just an excuse to vent, an excuse to save himself and to be liberated of the burden called magic. It sometimes slips out in the way Rollo speaks about his goals: how people will not have to suffer from painful memories “again” (ie Rollo won’t have to relive the past), how they will be freed from “dark and cold despair” (he’s speaking about it in such detail, like he is speaking from experience).

I actually don’t think what Idia said is completely true; yes, Rollo wants to save himself. However, if that were the case, why wouldn’t Rollo just have the crimson flowers relive himself of magic and no one else’s? It’s because Rollo honest-to-God believes the world would be better off without magic, even if that means he has to force his will upon others. He wants to not only save himself, but prevent anyone from ending up like Brollo. Again, I believe there is a part of him that subconsciously feels guilt for not being able to help his brother, so now Rollo is overcompensating/overcorrecting by ensuring that he “helps” everyone. His extreme wording plays into this; by using harsh terms like “villains” and constantly citing morality, it sounds as though he is trying to convince even himself that what he is doing is correct. He is someone that inherently values morality and justice, but his definitions have become twisted thanks to his grief and guilt. Rollo so reverently defends himself and his worldview because that is the only way he can rationalize tragedy and make sense of the trauma he has experienced.

Perhaps the saddest part of Rollo's story is that, unlike Idia, he doesn't change his mindset (or at least he doesn't want to). By the end of episode 6, Idia has started to come out of his shell to hang out with his classmates and play video games with them, and he has accepted Ortho as an individual. Rollo still believes he is in the right and refuses to talk to the people who offer to lend an ear (the gargoyles) to his woes. He still claims he will never see eye-to-eye with magicians and swears he will continue working against their interests. What’s important is that he is put in a situation where he is forced to face the inner demons that torment him, the guilt that he has yet to address in full, thanks to the NRC boys putting his self-righteousness on the spot. Rollo is being punished, but also given a chance, to be like Idia--to grow from the past, rather than let it continue to consume him.

It was so genius how they implemented Idia in Glorious Masquerade; it can be said that Malleus is Rollo’s foil (in that Malleus represents all the frivolous use of magic that Rollo detests), but in a way, Idia is also a foil to Rollo due to their similar backstories. I love that for the first half of the event, Idia was being his usual self, complaining about being away from his room and from Ortho, making jabs at his classmates, trying to minimize socialization, and occasionally geeking out. Even when the crimson flowers make themselves known, Idia is anything but enthusiastic to assist. He would rather run away from the issue, or just throw in the towel and Game Over than put up a fight. However, there is a dramatic shift in his behavior as soon as he, Malleus, and Azul find Rollo’s diary and learn of his motives from it.

Idia goes all quiet and becomes serious about stopping Rollo. Funnily enough, Azul initially interprets this behavior as hesitation, or Idia showing sympathy for their adversary. On the contrary, Idia knows more than ever that Rollo has to be stopped. Why is Idia suddenly so motivated when he wasn’t before (in spite of knowing the full weight of this threat)??? Because he realizes, whether he likes it or not, that Rollo is just like him. And while Idia may not care for Rollo, the fact is that Idia understands and empathizes with his experiences--but at the same time, he disapproves of the way Rollo is going about coping with it. As Idia puts it, Rollo has a right to be angry and to ruin his own life, but he has no right to drag other people down with his misery. Idia is drawing from his own experiences, how he holed up in his room and hid away from the world with his sorrow and rejected lucrative offers instead of causing trouble for others. Later on (in episode 6), Idia would be an inconvenience because of his Overblot, so he is speaking on those experiences as well. Idia has been on both sides of this, so he understands what Rollo is going through, AND what the worst possible outcome for it could be if he’s left unchecked.

Worse still is Idia knowing that Rollo has also lost a younger sibling--but instead of trying to move on from it, Rollo has fixated and is weaponizing his tragic past to justify his evil actions. As Idia demands of Rollo, is this really what Brollo would have wanted? Or is Rollo just lying and superimposing his own views over Brollo’s wishes, conflating them to make something that fits his narrow-minded and hateful view of the world? Idia is in a similar situation as Rollo, but he has never tried to use Ortho’s passing to excuse or to justify his actions. Even when he Overblotted, sure, Idia was rampaging, but his concern was always Ortho first and foremost. When he gets shot with lightning, Idia loses his cool over Ortho being hurt and rushes to check on the damage he has taken. At his lowest point, Idia still cares for his brother above all else, so it makes sense that he’s disgusted by Rollo essentially using his dead brother and his “wish” to justify doing awful things to innocent people.

This is why Idia says he cannot forgive Rollo: because Rollo is a dark mirror of himself--a version of Idia if his pain had been directed outward instead of inward. Someone who can’t let go of the past, and is ruled by it, spreading their suffering onto others instead of learning to live with themselves and their sins. He’s horrified that Rollo would use his brother’s passing to justify bringing a similar sadness upon do many others by robbing them of their magic. It’s such a perversion of grieving over a loved one, Idia cannot stand it. Both boys demonstrate to us unhealthy methods of coping with their circumstances (turning the guilt and hatred inward vs turning the guilt and hatred outward), but Idia was the one to learn and grow from his sorrows whereas Rollo continues to wallow in them.

It is Idia and Idia alone who understands everything Rollo is going through. All that pain and regret, wishing so desperately that life had been fairer to them and to their poor brothers... He even understands wanting to “destroy the whole world because it hurts knowing that [his brother] will never come back to him”. These are feelings Idia has had himself, but the difference between him and Rollo is that Idia can see those feelings for what they are: misguided, misplaced. He knows that even if life has been unfair, it doesn’t justify making others pay the price for it. He knows that making others suffer won’t get him a happy ending, and that it won’t bring Ortho back. He knows that doing all of this won’t make Rollo happy, it won’t really free him, because the past and the guilt associated with it will always remain no matter what changes in present day.

Rollo will only be free once he reaches acceptance in the cycle of grieving, if he lets go of what happened before and decides to live for himself without shame, like Idia has. Instead, Rollo has chosen to lash out at the world, using his brother’s passing as a fuel for his self-righteous fire. It’s the only way he can live with himself, because were he to accept his own guilt, his ego would break. The magic unique to him, Dark Fire, all of the inner turmoil he has held up to this point... that makes up who Rollo is. And if he doesn’t have that... then what’s the point of it all? He’s not ready to come to terms with that possibility, so he shunts it out for the easier solution, which is being rid of that magic altogether. In that mindless pursuit of his goals, he has lost sight of what he is truly after, his “salvation”: being at peace with Brollo’s death, and finding a reason to live on in his stead.

As Idia tells him, it’s alright to feel guilt, and there is nothing wrong with using the love we have for those who have passed as motivation to keep living. Idia was someone who was fully prepared to “join” Ortho in the afterlife (his choice of word, not mine), and Ortho had to convince him to stay. There’s too many games Idia hasn’t played yet, manga he hasn’t read, shows he hasn’t watched. There’s so much of life he has yet to experience, and he shouldn’t throw that away. Ortho tells Idia to return to his friends, to live--and with that, they said their final good-byes, and Idia is finally able to move on. Now he is passing along that knowledge, that plea to live, to Rollo, even if he detests Rollo’s character, his intentions, and the motivation behind it. For as much as Idia hates people, he would hate to see someone go down the dark path he had been destined for, had it not been for Ortho’s intervention, even more. I imagine it must be a weird feeling Idia is experiencing, some mix of disgust, displeasure, pity, and the feeling of “bro, I know where you’ve been and I know you can be better than this”.

Though Idia is definitely in the right in this situation, I want to call attention to the fact that Idia isn’t exactly intervening for purely selfless reasons; he was ready to fuck off and leave the City of Flowers to (metaphorically) burn and was putting forth no effort to save it until he caught that thread that connected him and Rollo. Even then, Idia’s not concerned with saving Rollo’s soul or whatever, he just wants to make it known Rollo is a bad person and should feel bad for what he has done because they are similar. If Rollo had had some other tragic backstory that didn’t involve a dead brother, I doubt Idia would have been reinvigorated to stop him as he was in canon. They have a kinship through their brothers whether they like it or not (and trust me, neither of them like it 😅), and that is ultimately what drives Idia to intervene.

Idia’s love for his brother not only allows him to connect with and empathize with others against his better judgment, but that love also supersedes Rollo’s hatred and guilt. He is able to reach that final stage of acceptance, while Rollo is still angry and bargaining for a way out.

Anyway, that was my very VERY long-winded way of saying I think Rollo should be forced to hang out with the Shroud brothers in fact, I’m working on a fic about this 🤡 because he could honestly stand to learn a lot from their character arcs…

#twst #twisted wonderland #Idia Shroud #Rollo Flamme #twst analysis #Ortho Shroud #Ignihyde #disney twisted wonderland #spoilers #notes from the writing raven #twst character analysis #twisted wonderland analysis #twisted wonderland character analysis #Azul Ashengrotto #Malleus Draconia #tw // death #tw // suicide

[slasherbish]

A Jack in the Box

Authors note: I have no clue if this will be romantic or platonic in the end.

A musical jack in the box sat on the shelf of an antiques shop. It looked lonely despite the knick knacks that surrounded it. Dust collected on it’s lid. Day after day it sat untouched by the customers that entered the shop. Inside of the jack in the box sat a small creature. His outfit and face resembled that of a clown but the color had long since drained from the being. He could see the world passing by but without someone to own the jack in the box he was trapped inside. The creature sighed as he watched another human pass by and not even give him a second glance. Who would want an old toy like me anyway, he thought. He was bored and sad. His thoughts often wondered back to when his original owner had abandoned him for a boarding school. 

Long ago he had been created for a lonely child, not by hellish beings but by an angel. The angel had taken pity on the child and gave him Laughing Jack, a toy that would love whatever the child did. That also being the one major flaw, as the child grew his mind darkened and eventually he became a serial killer and so Jack learned to like killing as well. Over this time though he had been forgotten and lost his color. He had become bitter from the times his boy blamed him for things he hadn’t done and the loneliness that he experienced. After killing the boy his small wooden box would be handed around over hundreds of years.

Years of loneliness with the occasional home where a child would once again blame him for anything they did wrong. It made him so mad that people were so quick to throw blame on others and so he aimed that anger at the kids who blamed him. Every child that he had been given to he would kill, their spirit resided in his other plane of existence that resembled a circus. 

The clown growled at the thought of being owned by another self absorbed child that didn’t know the word responsibility. He wanted to be owned so he could get out of the small box but not by a snot nosed child. Why couldn’t someone interesting come along. As if he had manifested it a woman with bright hair and her child walked into the shop. He watched with little hope as she looked at different objects. Laughing jack slumped back down as she passed him. Of course he wouldn’t be picked, he thought. However he didn’t see her back up. She looked at the small toy with a smile. “(C/n) come look at this” She said. The creature perked up, an ember of hope burned in his chest. 

The child walked over carefully not wanting to damage any of the antiques. They looked up with curious wide eyes. A smile soon broke out on the child's face. “He’s so pretty!” She exclaimed. LJ tilted his head, could this child see him? Surely this was just the child putting a gender to a random toy. “I think so too” The mother replied. He couldn’t help but wonder if these people could actually see him or if the mother was just playing along with her kids words. The ember of hope changed with what the woman did next. 

#laughing jack #lj #creepypasta #jack in the box #reader #fem reader #lj creepypasta #lj x reader #slasher x reader #laughingjack #x reader #x y/n #xreader #laughing jack x reader

[maple-seed]

Thrown - Chapter 23: Lodestar

Summary: Loki learns something new about his own mythology during a camping trip.

Word Count: 2,763

Author's Note: Happy Turkey Day to my American friends, and Happy Thursday to everyone else. Today I'll be attending a Thanksgiving Lunch and then also a Thanksgiving Dinner so if nobody hears from me for the next couple days it's because I'm sleeping off 80,000 calories.

Masterlist

The faces of Fury, Stark, and Rogers gazed out from the laptop's screen. Loki sat stiff in his chair, trying his best to look like a reformed and respectable member of society. He hadn't been the focus of this meeting, it had largely been about the progress of New Asgard, but there was an implied undercurrent that made it clear that his progress was being examined as well. Thor had not been subtle about dropping compliments for his brother into the conversation throughout the meeting. It was obvious that they were still not keen on his lack of imprisonment. He had to stifle his irritation that these men considered themselves arbiters of his fate, and that he needed to appease them. Fury hadn't spoken once throughout the meeting, but seemed to be absorbing everything that was said. Loki wondered how much Thor had told them about Thanos. It seemed he hadn't mentioned the recent incident at the market.

Stark's voice broke through. "In other news, I gotta say, Prancer, we're all very impressed you haven't tried to usurp the king of Norway or whatever." Loki smiled at him with gritted teeth. Thor frowned. "That is not very fair-" "Kidding! I'm kidding, geeze big guy, lighten up." Thor relaxed fractionally. "We have been impressed." It was Rogers speaking now. "Between Thor's reports and the posts on social media-" Loki's brow furrowed. "Social media?" "Yeah." Stark cut in. "It's this thing people use to talk to each other on the-" "I am aware!" Loki paused to check his tone. "I am aware of the phenomenon. I do not participate." "Sure, but the people around you do." Stark quipped. Thor had pulled up a post on his tablet and handed it to Loki.

"You've made Rogers self-conscious." Stark was smirking. "He's really had to up his game, helping old ladies cross the street and such." The captain rolled his eyes. "Loki has been assimilating well." Thor clapped him on the shoulder. "In fact, this very evening we will both be going camping with a human friend...."

Loki let the conversation drift away as he looked down at the post Thor had displayed on the tablet. It was the photo of him with the foreign couple he had translated for at the market. The caption read: "Um?? My parents said this guy helped them buy souvenirs on their vacation???" He scrolled down to the responses. The bulk of the comments were involved in a very heated debate as to whether the man in the photo truly was Loki of Asgard. Points and counter-points were made. Comparisons of photos were bouncing back and forth. He smirked at the vitriol produced by such an inconsequential argument. Further down, a section of comments seemed to have largely devolved into a discussion about mangos. This must be a reference he did not understand. He made a mental note to ask you about it later.

He looked up, as it appeared the meeting was coming to an end. Stark and Rogers images blinked out. Fury's stoic glare was all that remained. "You're doing well." He stated plainly before he, too, disappeared. It was the only thing he'd said in the entire meeting, and Loki wasn't sure who it was directed to. "That went very well, I think!" Thor grinned and stood up from the table.

Loki felt... tired. It was exhausting, keeping up a friendly facade with three men on a screen who, despite a few bits of praise, very much did not trust him and did not want him on their planet. He couldn't blame them, of course. He did throw one of them out of a window, after all. Defenestration rarely builds trust. Still, it was draining, trying to remain polite and courteous to a group who is looking for any reason to see him as otherwise.

At least the day was only going to get better from here. You had invited the brothers to join you on another hike up the mountain, where you intended to spend the night. Loki had his suspicions as to why you had arranged this outing. After the events at the market last weekend and this meeting today, he could use a respite and you seemed to be well aware of this. But then, perhaps you needed one as well.

You loaned backpacks to him and Thor so they could pack their things. He went upstairs to finish doing so now. They would likely be leaving to meet you soon.

**

Your cottage came into view as Loki and Thor worked their way up the road. You were sitting in your chair on your porch, Ash lying at your feet, along with a pack and other supplies. When you noticed them you waved and called from your chair.

"Boys! You ready to go?" "I believe so, yes." Thor called back. "You mentioned there were items you needed us to carry?" Ash had already gotten up to greet the brothers. You stood and motioned to the supplies at your feet. "Just some food and stuff. I hope you left a little space in your packs." "Oh, I'm sure we can manage." Thor said as he looked down at the items on the porch. "Certainly." Loki added. Then, with a quick wave of his hand, he vanished the supplies, leaving just your pack at your feet. You stared at the empty space for a moment. "Right. Duh." You shouldered your bag and smiled. "Let's go, then."

You led them down and across the road, to the same trail as before. The hike up was much more cheerful this time around, naturally. Loki could better appreciate the scenery as well as the company. He and Thor stopped periodically to give you a break, and in a surprisingly short amount of time the three of you stepped out onto the terrace once again. Ash took a drink from the stream while the rest of you took a moment to admire the view. It was no less stunning this time. Most of the deciduous trees had dropped their leaves, but the evergreens stood bright and proud. At the higher altitudes the snow that had fallen in the previous weeks had managed to stick around, capping the surrounding peaks. There were even a few remnants of ice lingering here on the terrace, presumably in places that were shaded in the day.

You gave the brothers the job of gathering firewood and starting a fire while you set up the tent nearby. He and Thor completed the job quickly enough, with just a minor disagreement as to how much firewood was sufficient for a single night. They came over just as you were completing your task, the tent's structure had been assembled and you were arranging sleeping bags inside.

Loki was not impressed by the tent. "Surely this material is far too thin to be of any use in keeping out the elements." He rolled the nylon between his fingers. "Trust me, when we're bundled in the sleeping bags, with the combined body heat of the three of us plus Ash in this thing, we will all be plenty warm." You assured. He remained skeptical but decided to take your word for it.

Dinner was cooked over the fire, and for once you had more than just cursory help. This was familiar territory for the brothers, who had spent many nights camped on hunts or for training outings and thus had plenty of experience cooking outdoors. The meal might not have been as refined as those made in your kitchen, but it was filling and comforting and the joint effort was a delight.

The sight of the sun setting was unparalleled, throwing golden rays and deep shadows across the forest and the fjord and the sea. The three of you sat around the fire talking and laughing well after the stars and moon had risen. Eventually, the call to sleep was answered and everyone retired to the tent. You took one sleeping bag against one side, with Ash lying down next to you. Thor took the next bag and Loki the one on the far side of the tent. Once everyone was settled Loki found that it was, indeed, quite warm. A few more quiet words and jokes were shared before each drifted off, one by one.

**

Loki woke with a start, immediately alarmed by a grating, growling noise. After a moment he calmed, recognizing the source. Thor was deep asleep, and snoring. The tent was illuminated by the moonlight cast through the thin fabric. Loki scowled at this brother for a moment, considering his next course of action when he saw your head rise over the other side of the blond god. Your hair was tousled from sleep, and you leveled a grumpy squint at Thor. Loki had an amused smirk as he shifted up onto his elbow. Your eyes met in mutual understanding, and you questioningly tipped your head toward the door of the tent. He gave a nod in answer, and you unzipped the door, quietly stepping out and pulling your sleeping bag with you. Loki followed and secured the door, leaving the sleeping Thor and Ash, who seemed to be unbothered by the ruckus.

"Snore, God of Thunder." You muttered as you walked away toward the dormant campfire. "That's quite good." "Thanks, I worked really hard on it." Loki scoffed a laugh. "Do you think you can get the fire going again?" You gestured at the charred remains. He placed a few more pieces of wood on the pile, waved a hand, and the fire came crackling to life. You sighed with relief as you sat down against the nearby boulder, your sleeping bag draped over your shoulders. "Magic is so convenient." He took a seat as well. "Yes, I never understood why more of your people don't use it." You laughed. "We have to do things the hard way, I guess." Loki looked out over the vista once more. It was still breathtaking, bathed in the silver-blue glow of the moon. He looked down at you as you shuffled across the ground, huddling against him. "Trying to steal some of your heat." You explained. He chuckled, and gave a lazy wave to the fire, which increased in intensity. "Thanks." You remained against his side. He didn't see the sense in moving.

The two of you sat for a while, admiring the night. Thor's snoring could still be heard in the distance.

"Hey, look, your star is out." You reached an arm out from under your blanket and pointed. "My star?" Loki looked up at the star. It was very bright. "Yeah. Sirius. The Norse called it 'Lokabrenna'." You tucked your arm back under the sleeping bag. "Meaning 'Loki's torch' or 'burning done by Loki'. Or something along those lines, we're not really sure anymore. The story behind it has been lost." He looked up a the star and frowned. "It's Ragnarok." Loki said bitterly. "The burning I cause. Ragnarok. In their stories, I bring the destruction of all the realms in flame. Your ancient people, basic as they were, still knew well enough to cast me as the villain."

You were silent. He regretted it, letting his self-loathing sour the night. It had simply slipped out, risen to the surface unbidden. He took his eyes off the star and watched the fire instead.

After a few minutes you spoke up. "You know the thing that always struck me about the binding of Loki?" He bit back another resentful response, opting instead to hear your thoughts. "What?" "He gets tied up underground with a snake dripping poison on his face, right? After a bunch of other awful stuff, of course. It's terrible, the whole thing is probably the worst punishment they could come up with." You were still gazing at the star. "But his wife is there. She's free, she can do whatever she wants, but she stays beside him and holds a bowl over him to catch the venom. That always stuck with me, that she'd choose to do that, it seemed like its own sort of torture." Your eyes moved from the star down to the fire. "Those ancient people, even when they were dealing him the worst torture they could imagine, they still gave him that. They still deemed him worthy of incredible love and loyalty." You shrugged. "I don't know, it just always seemed significant."

For a moment, he was dumbfounded. Worthy. Of all the words you could have used. He looked at you, but you were gazing at the fire now. He looked up at the star again. It was the brightest one he could see.

"It does seem significant." He admitted. Silence returned for a moment. "Plus," you added, "Some people think Loki was the one that gave humans fire so I think that's just as likely." You looked to him and spoke flatly. "What I'm saying is that you're probably definitely wrong." He couldn't help the smirk. "Probably definitely?" "That's what I said." He chuckled. "In that case I would be a fool not to concede." The two of you quietly watch the fire for several minutes. A particularly loud snore traveled from the tent and you threw your head back in exasperation. "Ugh! Will it ever stop?" "Not likely. I usually have to cast a silencing charm." You looked to him. "You can do that?" "Yes, of course." "Then why are we out here freezing our butts off?" He shrugged. "I assumed you wanted to enjoy my company." "Don't be ridiculous." "I don't believe I was." You brought yourself to your feet. "I want to sleep! Come on."

You marched back toward the tent. Loki extinguished the fire and followed. You stopped outside the door, he snapped his fingers and the grinding snores of Thor abruptly ceased. He opened the door, revealing soundless Thor still sleeping contently, his arm now thrown over Ash. Loki bowed dramatically as he held the flap back for you.

"After you." He gestured to the open door. "My hero." You stepped through.

You both settled back down in your respective places, with a now quietly-sleeping Thor in the middle. Loki stared at the illuminated fabric of the tent and considered his star as he drifted off again to sleep.

**

Sunlight and birdsong drew Loki from sleep once more. Thor was also stirring, and you were currently leaving the tent with Ash following behind. Loki made sure to drop the silencing charm before stepping outside.

The sun was still rising, glittering across a frosted landscape. Loki joined you on a boulder, admiring the sight.

"Is there ever a time when this view isn't breathtaking?" He asked. "I haven't found one yet." There was the sound of stretching and yawning as Thor exited the tent. "Good morning!" He boomed. "I trust everyone slept as well as I did?" Loki turned to him. "Actually we both woke in the night from a terrible noise. Some kind of beast." Thor's brow furrowed. "A beast? What was it?" "It was a bore." "A boar? Here?" Thor looked around the terrace in disbelief. "Yes, a tiresome bore." Loki glanced at you. You were keeping a straight face but it was clearly a struggle. You tried to elbow him surreptitiously but he casually moved out of the way. "I took care of it." "You should have woken me." "I can assure you, brother, that next time we will." Thor watched the two of you carefully for a moment. "There's something you're not telling me." Loki waved dismissively. "It's not important. At the very least it takes second priority to breakfast."

Breakfast was cooked as the sun climbed. A few more hours were spent in leisure, milling about the terrace, chatting, commenting on the view. It was peaceful. Loki lamented when the time came to break camp. Everything was packed away, and the three of you stood at the edge to take in the landscape one more time before climbing back down the mountain.

When the group reached your cottage Loki returned the extra supplies he had carried and they bid you goodbye. You reached up to hug Thor, as usual. Then you gave Loki the same treatment. He didn't object, and over your shoulder he saw Thor's eyebrows rise.

You went inside and the brothers started down the road to New Asgard in silence for several minutes.

"These humans are so insistent on their physical affection." Loki explained. Thor raised his hands in defense. "I didn't say a word."

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@mischief2sarawr, @imalovernotahater, @norestfortheshelbywicked, @purplekitten30, @ozymdias, @pdraxxi, @goblingirlsarah, @chantsdemarins, @n3rdybirdee, @marvel-love24, @lokiprompts, @ladymischief11

#loki #loki x reader #loki fanfiction #loki & thor #mcu loki #slow burn #loki fanfic #loki mcu #reader insert #loki thrown

[laura-de-milf]

I know we don't (yet?) have the full story for the Niles-vs-Laura situation, but so far I feel like there's a suspicious discrepancy between what we've been told vs what we've been shown about their early Bureau days and how that contributed to however their relationship left off. And I am dying for more insight into this.

We're told from the outset that Laura's the villain and the betrayer, and that Niles considers her a danger to the Doom Patrol. We're told that she's a "self-serving cancer to be excised". (And...we're meant to trust him? Because Niles is...good?)

What we're shown is two seasons of drip-fed backstory where Niles elects to stay on at the Bureau in what seems to be a very high-ranking position, despite his awareness of its dubious doings. I think, given his personal connection to the tundra expedition, we're meant to think that he's doing it for subversive reasons, but we're later shown that he initiated and conducted ongoing experiments on Metahumans using Bureau resources for his own personal gain. Sure, he eventually brought four of them to safety--but only after directly and intentionally causing them irreparable physical, psychological and emotional damage thus rendering them dysfunctional as people. We learn from Laura in 4x06 that most of Niles's projects ended up "unceremoniously nipped in the bud" for being "dangerous or foolhardy" (by an institution which considers breeding potentially-apocalyptic carnivorous butts a reasonable pursuit), so we can probably safely assume that Niles has been responsible for even more dangerous and/or harmful efforts which are conveniently not spoken about.

We're shown some moments of guilt from Niles--but given that his experiments eventually produced the desired outcome, and that this outcome directly relates to the safety of his daughter--he's exhibited no active remorse in having conducted them. Certainly nothing like the relentless self-loathing and personal destruction that Laura carries in the form of her own guilt, along with her multiple active attempts to go back (whether physically in time or by operating in the present) to fix her past actions.

Laura was an employee under oath to the bureau to fulfil a very specific--albeit also morally questionable--duty, yet still regularly broke that oath in order to rescue people whenever she could. Being a meta herself, she was putting her own safety and job at risk by doing so in an act of selflessness antithetical to Niles's selfish drive to preserve his own life. Laura was able to relate to those who would become the Sisterhood and did everything in her power to give them as much freedom as she could, given the circumstances, even if it meant distancing herself from these people who she'd come to love when tensions were mounting after WWII. Until, of course, it all went horribly wrong. (I'm still of the belief that the raid was done under coercion or began as a well-intentioned plan that went sideways for reasons beyond her control but that's an essay for a different time.) She absorbed the guilt and blame for this herself, both externally--allowing others the emotional satisfaction of directing their pain towards her in the form of anger--and internally--truly believing herself beyond forgiveness for her moral transgressions. Niles, on the other hand, lied to the Doom Patrol about his true actions and intentions in order to preserve their trust in him.

Further suspiciously, Niles's letter condemning Laura concludes, "For the good of our work [...] it is my strong recommendation that she be terminated immediately." We know objectively that the work the Bureau was doing was inhumane and that Laura has previously (secretly) opposed it. So what evidence could he possibly have had against her which would get her fired from the "good" work of an institution that actively exploits and kills people? Hm? Niles??

What we have so far is essentially a he-said-she-said between Laura and Niles about what really happened at the Bureau. It's Niles's memorandum and "evidence" which eventually got her fired, and for some reason it's Niles's narrative which prevailed--probably for the very simple reason that he was the longer-standing member, grandfathered in from the Bureau of Oddities*, and seemed to be in a more senior position. He gets to be the well-meaning-but-sadly-mistaken fatherly figure while Laura is painted as the villain, dangerous, and expressly instructed to "stay away from [Niles's] people".

But why? What really happened at the Bureau between these two? Because what we've been told from Niles isn't matching up to what we've seen of Niles and what we've been seeing so far from Laura's POV.

I so hope we're going to learn more about this in Part 2 because my brain is running in circles about this.

*Laura mentions in 1949 that she's been working for 35 years, which would have her joining the Bureau around 1914/the start of the war. Niles seems to have established himself during the pre-war Oddities era.

#I love these two SO much. they're both so complex and parallel in so many ways #yet the reception to them is so different #and it's been set up that way on purpose #basically they've both been shits but why does Niles make Laura suffer so much more for it #I am FASCINATED #niles caulder #laura de mille #madame rouge #doom patrol #thoughts.txt

[candykid16]

Oc Approaching!

Say hello to my Rabbids invasion oc, Dr.RoseGold!

She is beauty, brawn, and brains all in one woman. As you can probably tell, she is indeed a very brilliant scientist with a style of a combination between modern-victorian, steampunk, and futuristic.

She is stupid-rich, so she owns a massive modern-victorian manor, which is a cover-up for her laboratory. All of her servants are robots that she constructed herself, and she even programmed her car to drive on its own.

Personality wise: Using her natural beauty to her advantage, she is highly flirtatious and sassy. She is also moderately self-absorbed when it comes to the maintenance of her reputation. She is extremely defensive when a man tries to seduce her and expects her to say yes, and she’ll instantly beat him so bad he may be hospitalized. So yeah… she has serious anxiety with men. But at least her beauty is a good advantage to her in a lot of ways.

Story wise: In context, She steps out of her car, and walks into a large prison. She’s there to free Otto Derx(forgive my misspelling). She manages to bail him out with ease thanks to her wealth and obnoxious flirting. Why is Rose doing this? She saw some similarities with him despite their different reasons. And despite her anxiety regarding men, she decides to take him back to her mansion as her right hand. She promises him the recognition he desires, and so he agrees.

Backstory: Rose grew up in an area where a woman’s only purpose was to “listen and obey”; the women could never refuse their husbands’ wishes, otherwise they’d be either horribly abused or dead even. Before her love for robotics, Rose’s main goal was to leave her messed up home town, and find a decent man who respected her, however she was the most unfortunate because she was born naturally beautiful. With love, she was simply fooled three times by 3 different men: one she dated in high school, one she nearly married, and one she DID marry, the main desire they all wanted from her was her own body. In the end, she always got used up. And whether she was, or if she told a man “no”, she was easily blamed for everything any man would do to her, including her own mother. One day she decided to take action in her own hands. As she saw the robotics classes, she was willing to take part, but no one ever took her seriously, or even allowed her to study in the subject. Their main excuse was “You shouldn’t have to waist your pretty face on such labor”. Which just aggravated her! And so she vowed that she would show the world that she was more than just a pretty face. So she ended up educating herself with robotics; she even quizzed herself a lot. Over time, she got really good at it and became a genius technician. 5 years later, she land a mechanic’s job and then after another decade(10 years), she grew wealthy employing herself as the scientist she is now.

Here’s a few more facts about Dr.RoseGold:

She travels quite often and fills her manor with souvenirs.

She has a prosthetic left leg, she just hides it under her stockings.

She has heterochromia; her right eye is caramel brown and her left is a royal blue.

She had a German mother and a Italian father.

Her Real name is Rosita Golfeather, she mainly prefers for people to call her Rose while she’s not working.

She enjoys being annoying to Otto because, why not?

She of course hates rabbids, but she believes they can come to her advantage.

She is a master hacker with all sorts of computer systems.

Whenever she needs new materials she goes out at night and loots them from many different places from time to time.

When she works she often wears her hair in a rose-shaped bun. Like this kinda:

#rabbids invasion #rabbids oc #rabbids #oc #Otto dox #candykid16 #Dr.RoseGold #scientist

[causeimhappinesss]

Privacy - Albert Wesker x reader

Request: I hope this is okay by you, I’d like to request for Albert Wesker x reader that has avoidant personality disorder, and despite it being a challenge, they still want to study psychology? :) I’ve seen you do BPD one tho so feel free to deny this one! Thank you :)

Warning: none

Disclaimer: English isn't my native language (I'm french), so you can correct me if you spot somes mistakes :)

*

Having Avoidant Personality Disorder was no fun at all and that’s why you interested Wesker.

Let me explain: Wesker doesn't like when his s/o has many friends, it’s harder to manipulate you. The fact you’re mostly staying at home, having no friends and being sensitive is perfect. You’re making his job easier. At first, he doesn’t know you have a disorder, he just thinks you have anxiety, you’re shy and maybe have trust issues.

But at some point, he’s gonna notice you’re easily hurt by criticism, which is a problem since Albert loves when everything is perfect. He doesn’t always have filter when he speaks.

But at some point, you were too often at home, only studying with your psychology books and that pissed him off. Why? First, at some point, you could understand he’s a manipulative bitch. Second, he can’t hide all the terrible things he does.

One day, he killed one of his scientists. The guy was about to betray him, to give his positions either to the BSAA or the DSO. He made a mess with that guy and even if he cleaned himself in the labs, he came home really late, with his clothes in a bag. When you heard the door of your home being opened, you joined him, but frowned when you smelled that slight ferrous scent… 

“Albert… What is that..?”

“Not your business, Y/N.” he groaned as he walked to the bathroom. But you were so worried about him. You followed him, not understanding what was happening. Your heartbeat quickened.

“Albert…” you tried again.

“What do you want?! I told you it wasn’t your problem. You’re always here and I can’t even have some privacy! Can’t you just have a life and go out from time to time?!”

His words were harsh. Like a blade piercing your heart. It felt like falling from a cliff. 

Tears fogged your eyes, while your hands trembled. You shook your head and ran to your bedroom…

“Y/N, wait!”

…where you locked yourself in to make sure he didn't come in. Technically, he could break in, but you knew he wouldn't. You threw yourself onto your soft bed, as tears streamed down your face. You burst into tears, as he made your heart burst without mercy. You knew that Albert was a hard man, demanding, not easy to live with, but you didn't think he would spit those difficult words in your face. You always tried to be perfect, in fear of disappointing him, and now he saw you as a nuisance... You were lost and didn't know what to do.

Two weeks ago, he blamed you for acting awkwardly in public, but what he didn’t seem to understand is that social interactions with people around you makes you uncomfortable. Actually, you were self-conscious in social situations, afraid to embarrass yourself. Even worse, your poor self-image doesn't help at all.

Wesker knocked on the door, feeling guilty about what he said to you. 

He rarely felt this way, but he loved you and he knew that spewing nastiness like this could only damage your relationship. He let out a sigh and scratched the back of his neck, looking for the right words...

"Honey, open the door, please."

You didn't answer, too absorbed in the pain. Lately, Albert had begun to understand that something was wrong, and he was suspicious. You could have just gotten mad at him or taken it out on yourself, but instead, you had burst into tears... The realization hit him hard. Of course, you had Avoidant Personality Disorder and he was so focused on his projects that he didn’t see that.

"Y/N, open the door. I apologize, I was really stupid and mean. Now open up, we need to talk. I know you have Avoidant Personality Disorder and it’s okay. It doesn't change how I feel about you..." he sighed.

He knew you would eventually come out to have a talk with him. He was going to reassure you and... continue to manipulate you, obviously.

*

Hey, readers! I hope you liked it! Also, I created a ko-fi account with small commissions at $1, $2 and $8 to support me and my work or tip me here since I'm broke😊💜

My Ko-fi: betrayedwriter

My AO3: BetrayedWriter

My Instagram: carolinemertz_

#resident evil #resident evil imagine #resident evil one shot #albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #albert wesker x you #albert wesker x oc #albert wesker imagine #albert wesker fanfic #resident evil headcanons #albert wesker headcanons

[ashlingiswriting]

For the recent passage questions: “for me, it’s pineapple condoms or nothing.” All the way up to Richie saying “are you really gonna punish me for a joke”

Idk why but I love that little bit so much and would love to hear your thoughts on it!!

thank you so much! i'm excited to get into this chunk of writing.

warning: i really get into the analysis here, possible to an insufferable extent. can't help it! i just love them so much & i have so much to say about it!

for me, it’s pineapple condoms or nothing. you’re a real high-maintenance fuck. you laugh. michael used to like that about you, just how easy you were, or how easy you made yourself. buddy, you got no idea. 

on the surface, they're bantering. haha! we're not going to have sex, for a silly reason! because the idea of us having sex itself is a joke, and we're both in on the joke, right? right?

it's them reassuring each other that it's fine, even though for both of them, deep down, It's Not Exactly Fine.

also, a few lines ago, julie has literally realized that she loves him, specifically because he takes it easy on her, because he's figured out a way to be with her without making her feel like she needs to run, and without making her feel like she needs to act like someone else. he fucks up a lot, but he's trying, and does it all with his own humor and heart and she sees that and she loves him.

which is in strong contrast with mikey, cause she started off very much herself with mikey, but when they starting having sex she promptly fell into weird, somewhat unhealthy patterns of behavior where she was like 'it's casual! that means you can fuck me whenever, never text unless you feel like it, disappear for an entire week with no explanation, it's all fine. i pretend that watching you fall apart doesn't kill me, you pretend that neither of us have intense emotional involvement in this, and, you know, it's functional!' and then he dies.

it's so obviously fucked in retrospect, but she 100% did it to herself. mikey didn't even ask her to be like that. she just...wanted to be wanted and got scared about demanding anything more.

in many ways, do i know you? is a love triangle story where one corner of the love triangle is already dead. but mikey's ghost is often just around the corner.

so even though again it's all jokes on the surface, julie's memory of how she shrank herself down and didn't demand what she wanted/needed from mikey, the last man she loved, is obviously gonna have an impact on how she views her—very recent!—realization that she loves richie.

it’s been such a long day for both of you, apart and together. of course you’re getting messy, of course it’s time to go. you zip up your coat, run your hand through your hair. 

you can see her here already trying to diminish and dismiss and repress that realization. her feelings can be blamed on the long day she's had. and she doesn't even call them feelings, she calls them "getting messy". she zips up her coat, runs her hand through her hair; prepares to go outside and leave; tries to put herself together/look normal.

let me drive you, he says again. you wave him off. no, i need to walk. clear my head. it’s december in chicago, fuckin pitch black—  i’ll be fine. it’s christmas eve, are you really gonna punish me for a fucking joke?

the story's very much from julie's pov, and julie can be a pretty self-absorbed character. (honestly, when i was writing this, i didn't know if i'd get any readers making it several chapters in, because she's not always a particularly sympathetic, nice, good, or attractive character. so again, i'm THRILLED that literally anyone is reading!)

anyways yeah julie can be very self-absorbed. this is partly due to the hermitlike existence she's been leading—she hasn't had to engage with other people on a particularly complex, intense, or deep emotional level, and even her relationship with mikey was noticeably stunted in several ways—but it's also partly due to just being a personal flaw of hers. she's so self-absorbed, in fact, that she actually misses what's going on with richie because she's busy thinking about richie, paying more attention to the man in her head than the man standing right in front of her.

a parallel thing occurs in chapter three, when she's fantasizing about how she'd heat up leftovers for richie if she took him up to her apartment; how she'd take care of him, in another world where she was willing to be that vulnerable. but like, he's right there! she could take care of him by paying attention to him right then and there, especially because he's venting and literally all he needs in that moment is a listening ear.

do i know you? isn't just a line from chapter one or the title of the story, it's also me drawing little hearts around one of the main themes of the story. how do you truly know a person and how do you learn to love them right?

julie thinks she knows richie because she knows so much about him from mikey's stories, but in chapter three she's surprised to find out that richie deals cocaine. of course mikey wouldn't have told her that, since it was mikey's idea for richie to do that, and in the end this is all because the beef was failing financially. that wasn't something mikey was proud of, so he didn't tell her about it. (shame & its sources & how to deal with it is another huge theme in the fic!) so in that moment julie has a rare moment of clarity and tries to look at richie physically to really fix him in her mind, to observe him for herself. to be in that moment with him. which is a lesson that she...could perhaps have learned more quickly & thoroughly lmao. but isn't that life? it's rare that people learn important lessons once and follow them perfectly ever after.

ANYWAYS. in this passage, julie's just preoccupied with being as emotionally opaque as possible and getting the hell out of there, so she's focused on herself, not at all on richie.

richie, in the meantime, is picking up on her weird vibes & doesn't know what caused this. he knows that she let him drive her before and that was fine—delightful, even—so something has to have changed. he chalks it up to the sleepover + condoms jokes, the fact that he's brought up, even jokingly, the mere idea of them having sex. and he also wants to take care of her, he does actually want to drive her home, so her rejecting that doesn't feel great! just feels like her being stubborn (which she is). so that's why he's like, it’s christmas eve, are you really gonna punish me for a fucking joke? like, we had such an amazing night together, we're closer tonight than we've ever been before, i cooked for you, you came willingly to my apartment, we talked about our families, and now you're going to reject my care and leave in a weird tension filled way that i'm like 80% sure is happening just cause i made some off color jokes???

also, as one might expect from a guy whose father was never around, whose best friend committed suicide, and whose wife left him...richie's kind of sensitive about being left. see: season 2, when he explicitly says he fears that carmy & co are gonna "drop this ass" & leave him in the dust. so! yeah!

what i do love, though, is that they've learned from last time, in a way. in chapter 3, when there was that disconnect between them and he senses it and is offended by it, she responds angrily and defensively, says something hurtful, and basically the only reason they don't get into a much bigger fight is because he showed a bit of mercy (probably spurred by the fact that she didn't show up the night before and he was truly concerned about her absence).

THIS time, even though there's a disconnect between them, when he bursts out in frustration, she understands what's going on and de-escalates the situation, reassures him, tries to be gentle. and even though he's not completely satisfied with her walking home in the dark, he lets it go, recognizing that she has her own reasons but she's not angry with him and she doesn't mean it as a rejection of him.

they're learning!!! i love it when they learn! it took us 34,000+ words, but they're figuring it out!

...

the extent to which all this analysis is post facto? YOU'LL NEVER KNOW, I'LL NEVER TELL 😂😂😂

anyways! thank you so much again for the excuse to scream abuot them, i've been drafting chapters nine and ten, and this thought exercise was deeply satisfying.

feel free to send me another of these my askbox:

#diky #correspondence #ask games

[rosemarydisaster]

Part Two of my "what if they were homosexuals saga", the ficlets were I explore what if certain characters I hc as bisexual due to their opposite gender relationships in canon were gay. Today I offer you Nancy Wheeler with a severe case of CompHet.

This ficlet deals with internalized homophobia and mentions 80's typical homophobia. Pls stay safe if any of that could trigger you. Also, It's a long boy.

Nancy Wheeler was a good girl. That's what every single one of her teachers had always said. It was something she had always been proud of, being good. Obviously it was a good thing to be good, and it made her mom happy. Her father had never cared about those things, but then again he had never cared about anything. He simply existed in the living room sofa.

Nancy loved being good, but it wasn't an easy thing. You see, when bad kids were good, they got praise. When Nancy behaved good, it was what the standard. What she was expected to do. Nancy needed to be better than good if she wanted to get that same response. She needed to be excellent, so she became excellent. Always managed to outdo herself in a constant competition with her past work. Barb was content with being nice, but Nancy needed to be perfect.

The unfairness didn't stop there. When bad kids misbehaved, the teachers sighed and moved on with their lives. When Nancy did though, she was in big trouble. The teacher would be disappointed, her mother would be disappointed, her cat would be disappointed. The only person that would not care was her father, still sitting behind the newspaper. It somehow infuriated Nancy more than her teachers’ unfair expectations.

It was only a matter of time. She was going to get tired of being a good girl at some point, Nancy reasoned. She did love challenges, of course! But there was no point in running a rigged race. That's what she told herself when Steve Harrington started talking to her.

It was flattering. Almost as rewarding as being praised for her grades. No one had ever told her all those things -how pretty she was, how her blue sweater complimented her eyes, how interesting she was. She did not kid herself, no matter what Barb said. She knew the kind of guy Harrington was. He probably didn't mean half of it.

Harrington wasn't that man; Nancy was sure of that. He was handsome, objectively speaking, but he was too self-absorbed for Nancy to care. It felt like fanning a forest fire. He was dumb, and a jock! yet extremely charming in his own way. Plus, she loved the way people looked at her when she was with him. She was now Queen consort, exceeding all expectations for her love life.

Barb didn't like Harrington, and Nancy couldn't blame her. Sure, he was everything they had complained about in their sleepovers. He was a boy, a prime example of the male sex. They had both agreed since the moment that boys became an inevitable topic that they would never date one of the kids at school. They were loud, smelly, annoying, and rude. There were no good boys in Hawkins, so they hoped for a future in Ivy league with men that would sweep them of their feet.

It also helped with rumors. Hanging out with just one girl without having dated anyone...Nancy did not want people to get the wrong idea. Maybe if Barb's hair was longer she would not have the need to resort to Harrington. Her mom had hidden pretty well the relieve -mostly because she was overcome with sudden worry for teen pregnancy. But Nancy noticed, and she liked the freedom it gave her.

It seemed so stupid on retrospective. How she had lost her soulmate just so she could be popular for a bit. Barb had always been there. She was everything to Nancy. No one understood her like Barb and now she was gone. Now she was gone and Nancy had to deal with the grief and confusion by herself. The way everyone else had moved on made her want to scream at the universe.

She was close enough to Steve to realize he hadn't really. He didn't throw parties at his house anymore, avoiding the backyard like the plague. She knew. But knowing didn't make it any better when he kept acting like it didn't matter. His girlfriend's best friend, brutally murdered in his pool, and he wanted to act like nothing happened. Nancy could almost picture him sitting in the sofa, behind the newspaper. She felt bile creep up her throat. Nancy had never been in love with him, but each day she felt closer to hatred.

The Halloween party was her limit. Nancy could not take the Bullshit anymore. Completely intoxicated as she was, it made no sense to her. Why on earth would she have been on Steve's bed having mediocre sex? She should have been with Barb, her Best Friend. The person she cared most for in the entire world. She knew she was crying and Steve was trying to calm her down, but she didn't want to calm down. She felt like her heart had a massive hole in the middle, and each day she could not see Barb's soft smile or hear her sweet voice it became bigger.

Nancy didn't remember what she said to Steve. Judging by his face the next day, it wasn't pretty. She wasn't even sure they were still dating by the end of the conversation. He sounded angry, but his eyes were glossy and red rimmed. For just a second Nancy allowed herself to think about the possible feelings Steve The Hair Harrington could have. She had never thought there were any in all the time they've dated, but clearly she managed to hurt them into existing. Nancy felt bad, but she somehow felt more bitter than sad.

The same way she dated Steve to spite the world, Nancy dated Jonathan to spite Steve. She knew Steve hated him, and she wasn't even that sure they had broken up. But Byers was the only one that could at least try to understand her pain. And he did try. He was soft spoken, and sweet and all the things Steve was not. So maybe, maybe, it could work. In Nancy's logic, it made complete sense. The problem with Steve was that there was zero compatibility. They didn't have anything in common. Johnathan and her were a powercouple, a force to be reckoned with.

Dating Jonathan was nice. They worked together really well, and he was such a nice guy to be around. Steve had matured a lot since the break up, but Nancy never felt tempted to come back. She felt tempted to apologize though, but the way he had dismissed Barb's death...she wasn't over it yet.

She still thought about her, of course she did. Every single day. It hadn't gotten any easier, she simply got used to it. At first Jonathan had been really helpful. He hugged her and let her cry for her friend, giving Nancy the space to properly feel her pain. But after a few months it started to feel wrong. Her grief was laced with things she could not speak about, and Jonathan made her feel dangerously comfortable. Maybe ignoring it would make it go away faster, even if she felt extremely guilty for it.

Not having other friends was convenient, but it also made her more dependent on her Jonathan. Barb was gone (had been for a while), and her only other option was his ex. Not that she felt weirdly about Steve, Nancy had been over him before the relationship started. It was just that she didn't feel like being the third wheel. And hanging out with Steve always meant third wheeling these days.

The thing about Jonathan was that, no matter how good of a team they made, they were reliant in proximity. Nancy didn't really feel the need to call him when he went away to California. She still called from time to time, she was supposed to. It helped to distract her from the bad thoughts, her guilt, and the weird thoughts. It grounded her. She was still sweet Nancy and she had a boyfriend. No one gossiped about the other thing when she had a boyfriend, especially now that she had cut ties with pretty much any girl she could have been friends with. After the upside down, normal people lost her interest, and no girl could compare to Barb.

She didn't hate Robin. At first she was sorry for her, being stuck with Harrington. But she seemed so happy, and they seemed to enjoy each other's company so much...maybe she was a bit jealous. Not of her relationship with Steve -Platonic her ass-, but of the attention. She missed the complicity, being someone's partner in crime. She missed Jonathan, but most of all she missed Barb. She felt so alone, smiling through the collapse of another relationship and all the hardships of being valedictorian in a world with evil dimensions.

When she got stuck with Robin as a partner, she started feeling sorry for Steve. The girl never shut up. It was a constant rambling that fused multiple topics in the same sentence in a way that almost made her brain hurt. She got used to it though. And Nancy had to admit Robin was fast and witty. Clearly her assumptions were wrong, but she didn't understand why. How could Steve be so close with a girl without flirting with her.

She got somewhat of an answer after Vecna. They finally talked about things and, for the first time, Nancy allowed herself to listen to Steve. He had looked so shaken when Vecna took her, she could not deny he cared for her. And somehow that almost brought her to tears. She apologized. Profusely. Steve hadn't deserved all her assumptions. He had forced himself to fit into a mold, and Nancy had never tried to see beneath that facade.

They talked about everything that night. About Barb, about his father sitting behind his newspaper never even lifting a brow, about expectations, about how unfair it had all been for them. Nancy laughed, hugging his ex, realizing how much they had in common. Way more than she thought, maybe even more than she and Jonathan. And still, Nancy could not feel it. She looked at Steve's gorgeous face, lovely even in his teary vulnerability, and she could see nothing more than a friend. A good one, but just a friend.

She broke up with Jonathan once he came back from California. He seemed almost relieved. Things had been difficult for him too, and if long distance did not work once, it was not going to work for college. They were still friends and Nancy almost felt weirded out by how similar it felt to when they dated. Maybe they had never been more than friends. It didn't help with the thing. Just because people did not gossip anymore, it did not mean her brain had left the topic alone.

The group was a welcome distraction. Now that the air was cleared between them, she actually enjoyed  hanging out with Steve and Robin a lot. Nancy had missed having girl friends and Robin was just so... electric. No one could substitute Barb, years and years of intimacy could not be build in weeks. But she surprised herself with how fast Buckley had won her over. She had that dorky charm to her that made Nancy giggle against her will. And she had such an earnest intensity to her...it was hard not to get flustered whenever Robin complimented her. Thankfully, she still shared a brain with Steve and spent a big chunk of their time with her platonic soulmate

Eddie was great in those instances. He was everything Nancy was not. He was so sure in his insecurity where Nancy was extremely insecure about her self-assurance. He was The Freak, bad in a way society could not justify. Eddie did not care for rumors, and laughed in the face of anyone who dared call him queer. He was unrepentantly weird, and Nancy couldn't get enough of it. He made her feel cool.

She had always been Goodie Two Shoes Nancy, even when she dated Big Bad Harrington. But Eddie raved on and on about how she was such a badass...Nancy was starting to believe him. Yes, she had pushed for the truth at the newspaper, even when it had meant "sticking it to the man". Yes, she had managed to be valedictorian AND save the world the same year. And Nancy had very much indeed, threatened Carver with a modified shotgun "like the bad bitch you are Wheeler! Pardon my language".

Nancy helped him pass English class, and he screamed "This one's for you Wheeler!" at graduation. Steve had taken big offense to that because he had helped too -no, he hadn't. They've gotten pretty close those past few months. So, when people started inquiring about them Nancy could not feel surprised. Baffled? Absolutely. Horrified? That too. It was their graduation party for goodness sake!

Steve had thrown the party, the first party King Steve threw in years. A legendary event for the annals of history. Carver's party stood no chance. Nancy understood better than anyone the significance of Steve's present, and she made sure he was enjoying himself. Any time he looked at the pool she dragged him into the conversation. So, when Gareth had begged her to tell him if Eddie and her were dating yet, Nancy really tried not to freak out. She didn't want to ruin the night for anyone, and Gareth had implied that it was expected they would end up together. Nancy really didn't want to reject his friend in the middle of their graduation party.

She managed to hold herself off for a whole 20 minutes. Give or take. Nancy found Eddie in the porch with Steve and Robin. Harrington immediately asked if she was ok, clearly worried. She managed to shake him off and Robin eventually got the hint, taking him inside. Eddie simply waited for her to speak, silently smoking away. God did she hate being in that situation, but she could not do this any longer. Nancy could not force herself to date guys just because that's what people expected of her. It was not fair for her nor them, and she really did not want to mess things up with Eddie.

She took a deep breath and related his conversation with Gareth as calmly as she could. Before Eddie could intervene, she composed the most thoughtful rejection she could muster at the moment and waited. She felt like a thread about to snap, and Eddie standing there in silence was not helping at all. Then he laughed. He doubled over, almost falling to the floor, unable to contain himself. Nancy stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say. Eddie patted the floor next to him and she sat down, dumbfounded. He grabbed her hands, still giggling like a school girl "oh, Wheeler! Haven't I told you Gareth is as dumb as a sack of bricks? I've told you, haven't I? Don't worry, I'm not interested. You're not my type".

Nancy was too relieved to feel offended by Eddie's rejection. They sat in comfortable silence for a bit, but Eddie got restless after a few seconds. He bounced his leg, looking that way and the other, nervously hiding behind his hair. Just like Eddie waited for her to speak, Nancy waited for him, squeezing his hand in hers. "You know, I... feel like you won't be like, 'hate-crimey' about it so mmm. You're not my type because girls are not my type". His voice raised at the end of the sentence with barely controlled panic. And then silence. Eddie was rigid next to her, and for a guy that had never been quiet in his entire life, that was a feat. So Nancy hugged him.

It started easy, Eddie asking her about Steve. He had a massive crush on him and he wanted to know how Steve was in a relationship. So Nancy told her about them, about how it was doomed from the start. It segwayed to talking about Jonathan, of course, one ex leads to the other. Sure. She had more trouble remembering how she ended up crying about Barb, how she was the only person she had truly loved. And Nancy could not understand for the life of her were Robin came from. She was ugly crying, confused and ashamed, and Eddie held her together. And when she was done, they put the pieces back in their place.

They were closer after that, Eddie feeling way more relaxed now that that wasn't standing between them. She had never been trusted with such an important secret. Barb told her everything, but the secrets of a middle schooler weren't that deep. This was different. Like Eddie had said, it could mean a lot of trouble for him. It was anxiety inducing, not being able to trust even your closest friends. Not even Robin, and Steve and Jonathan, the people they've saved the world next to. It was quite flattering, knowing that he had decided to trust her given the risks. So Nancy decided to trust him.

"We are helpless" was her conclusion, and they both laughed and joked about how obvious it should have been. "Come on Wheeler, you should have known when King Steve didn't stir up trouble in your panties!" He followed that up with an uncanny imitation of Steve flirting, and Nancy almost died right then and there. It became their joke, and they could not stop laughing the next time they saw Harrington. He was confused of course, but Eddie refused an explanation and Nancy felt almost lightheaded from how hard she laughed. Robin was very much annoyed she was not in on the joke, and she had looked so cute all frowny and frustrated...

Being able to openly (to herself and Eddie) crush on Robin was both freeing yet painful. She felt more alive than ever before, but also immersed in the sorrow of a lost battle. Eddie kept telling her that she might be queer "she's in band, Nancy" but now that she was out to herself Nancy understood how horrifying the idea of coming out to others truly was. She wasn't risking rejection, she was risking becoming a social pariah. She would still have Eddie but...no, she was not ready at all.

It was an offhand comment what started it. They were all in her basement, the kids had just gotten out to stretch their legs while Eddie took his well deserved smoking break. "Dude, Will is like ridiculously in love with your brother, Isn't he?" Eddie was talking to her, and it would have been a harmless remark if Steve and Robin had not arrived from the kitchen at that same moment. Robin was completely rigid, only her eyes darting from Steve to Eddie in a terrified stare. "So what if he is?" Steve crossed his arms, staring down at Eddie like he was ready for a fight. Nancy noticed how he stepped in front of Robin, his signature protective stance "Did not take you for that kind of asshole Munson".

Steve had, understandably, many questions about it but Nancy only had eyes for Robin. Buckley's eyes widened impossibly more, jaw dropping as her face snapped to Steve. Nancy delighted in Robin's panic. Not only was she adorable, but if it meant what she thought it meant...Eddie nudged her with his foot, wiggling his eyebrows. Tonight was proving quite interesting for them both, but she intended to make it even better. "So did you guys know about Will or..?". Steve choked a bit and Robin nodded and shook his head almost at the same time.

Eddie was white as chalk, quick to over explain himself. Steve did not relax until he blurted out in a panic that he was queer himself. "Oh. Sorry, I... I might over react when it comes to the kids". He said the kids, but Nancy was paying very close attention and she could see the way Robin squeezed his arm. A silent thank you she was very familiar with. Soon enough they were all laughing about the situation, Eddie finally at ease after the misunderstanding. Nancy was still turning gears in her head about Steve and Robin, their "platonic with a capital P" friendship, when Robin asked her "so, you did know about Eddie" she sounded a bit nervous, her big gorgeous eyes staring right inside Nancy's very soul. She was reading her for an answer, not necessarily to the question she had asked. And fuck it, Nancy was going to give it to her. "Yeah, and he knows about me".

"He came out to us a bit back." Steve finally managed. He looked at Robin, like he didn't know what else to say. Nancy could see that same exact fuck it moment in Robin's face. "I felt bad for him, you know, being a weird gay kid in Hawkins. So I mmm came out to him". "Oh" "yeah" "and Steve?" He was the last piece to this extremely queer puzzle. Nancy was not about to make assumptions, she had learned her lesson, but she felt almost obligated to push it for Eddie's sake. "I-" Steve finally started "I wasn't mmm I didn't know about myself then".

It was a great thing that Mike was a pubescent idiot, or else he would have realized his sister had never worn nailpolish. She wasn't even sure she had any -definitely none that were functional. Robin had noticed, of course she had. "Look Nancy, I'm not sure if this means what it means but you never even paint your nails and we were just talking about-" Nancy simply cupped Robin's face with her hand, giving the other girl the time to back off and being extremely happy when she didn't. So Nancy kissed her. She kissed a girl, she kissed Robin Buckley, She kissed a nerd when she was a nerd herself and she was ecstatic.

It was full house and Nancy shared a look with Eddie. This didn't have to mean anything. Just because they were all gay -Bisexual, Steve had explained- it didn't meant their feelings were mutual. Well, at least for the boys. Now that she had confirmation of Robin's sexuality she had zero doubts about her feelings. Nancy wondered how desperate she would look if she asked Robin out right that moment, then decided she did not care. The moment the game resumed, Nancy invited Robin to her room so she could show her her nailpolish collection.

They came back down with messy hair and clean nails, but none of the brats noticed at all. Only Steve and Eddie looked their way with knowing smiles. To Nancy's delight and horror, her dork of a girlfriend actually high-fived Steve. But maybe what really surprised her was how happy she felt in that moment. She had a Girlfriend. Sure, it wasn't what she was expected to do. But Nancy had always exceeded expectations after all.

"I've wanted to do that for a really long time" Nancy whispered while Robin sighed happily. "Bet I've wanted you to do that for even longer". The both giggled. "It's not a competition, doofus" "But I win" "shut up" "make me" and Nancy happily obliged.

#ronance #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #steve harrington #eddie munson #fruity four #jonathan byers #stranger things #ficlet

[thelostgirl21]

So, guess who ended up watching the whole "Jobriath A.D." documentary, crying her eyes out over a guy singing about Sunday Brunch in his pyramid, and making a whole video dedicated to Jobriath and Hugh's performance as Radovid?

Actually, I also made another version (unlisted) for those of you that are already familiar with the artist, and might want to enjoy some of his music and the visuals without being distracted by the text at the bottom:

But yeah, I'm kind of so sad and upset that I never got to know about him before (given how huge of a fan of David Bowie I've been since my teenage years), and that the gay community totally failed to support him, back then.

I mean, I'm not blaming them. We've had the same issue with feminism where we used to make it all about women assuming more traditional men roles; until we finally realized that it was just as important to give more social value to traditionally perceived feminine qualities, traits, interests, and professions - in men, women, and any other gender, really - as well!

So, I can recognize that the gay community attempting to distance itself from the whole "flamboyant fairy" image likely came from the rest of society attempting to reduce them to it (among others), and creating some kind of convenient "right" vs "wrong" way to be gay narrative (a divided minority is much less powerful and loud than a united one).

Even today, we are facing a similar issue with some members of the LGBTQ+ community claiming to be part of the "LGB" without the "TQ+".

Note: the "B" of that "LGB" is often barely tolerated as a "temporary transitional phase", though; a "stepping stone" towards either the "L" or "G", or a return to being "straight".

Ultimately, it's about our survival instincts making us fear losing the relative safety we've acquired by being positively accepted and valued by those that hold the most power.

i.e. The "TQ+" is too controversial and different from the cisgender monosexual majority to be readily accepted?

Well, let's distance ourselves from it to keep us "LG"s safe, then!

While, of course, reassuring the dominant majority that the "B" will eventually choose a side, so its okay to let them come along while they are still "searching themselves". No worry! We're still as "normal" as you are!

It's all very, very binary.

No, it's not. The world is filled with beauty, diversity and nuance...

And sadly, by rejecting a part of our collective identity to better "fit in", we are sacrificing a part of our very own soul and culture. We are hurting ourselves and giving up power, not acquiring it.

So yeah, I'm not "blaming the victims" by accusing the gay community of any intentional wrongdoing back then, but JFC! It hurts.

It really hurts that he didn't receive comfort, love, and support from his very own people, at the very least, when the mainstream audience lashed out at him.

Yes, the publicity and the hype built around him made everything worse and gave off the wrong image (he probably came off as being a bit of a "self-absorbed prick", rather than someone in a position of great vulnerability), but they freaking ate him alive out there!

And he deserved better not because he was incredibly gifted and talented, but because he was a freaking human being.

What his talent and giftedness had to offer us was a voice, though, that we allowed to be silenced, and the world and our culture became lesser for it.

Jobriath did pave the way for others to then succeed, but I'm against the idea that someone needs to fall and sacrifice themselves so that others may rise. Yes, it happens, but it shouldn't have to.

I don't believe for one second that it is or was ever necessary.

But if it does happen, then yes, I say make it count for something, at the very least!

So, maybe that's why I'm so touched by the fact that Hugh listened to his music and drew inspiration from it while portraying his character.

40 years after his death, you now have a young openly gay actor being offered the role of an openly gay prince (that later becomes king) on a major fantasy show that isn't specifically about LGBTQ+ themes (like, say, "Sense8" could be considered to be), who is listening to Jobriath's music to help him connect with, build, and embody his character.

And, while I am genuinely glad that some artists are doing covers of his songs (ex: Adam Lambert with "Imaman") and bringing people's attention towards his work...

In Hugh's case, I think that what I find really touching is the fact that there's an element of "practicality" to it, if I'm making any sense? A connection that seems to be more internalized / intimate between the two artists...

Art is a means of self-expression, and sometimes you are trying to express a message, an emotion, or an idea that you wish to share with others in the world, and allow it to take a life of its own.

So, it's like the music Jobriath created - that little part of himself and the things he wished to communicate with the world that he left behind - is being listened to and welcomed by Hugh, and then combined with his own creative sensitivities to be integrated within a theatrical performance.

The spirit of what was initially shared lives on, while evolving and taking on a new form that will then go on to connect with people in a different way.

It's not so much about celebrating the songs themselves and paying tribute to the artist's work by covering them, but becomes about honoring the artist's spirit and the emotions, themes, ideas, etc. those songs were covering.

And I am genuinely not saying that one way of connecting with the artist's work or expressing appreciation for it is better than the other, not at all.

Just that as a non-professional artist myself, the idea of leaving anything behind that would have the power to touch a fellow artist's soul, help them grow as a performer, and continue to express and explore certain themes that I personally connected with at that time in my life - even if I would no longer be there to personally guide them - would be incredibly moving and make me feel like art really has the power to transcend boundaries and even death itself.

Because Jobriath's songs tackled issues related to identity, gender, relationships and self-discovery, among others...

And Radovid, as a character, is very gentle...

He's sensitive, empathetic, boyish, openly admits to being scared, freaking huddles himself in a corner to cry when he finds out his guards have been slaughtered...

I mean, when it comes down to it, all Radovid really wanted, this season, was a pretty song and someone to love and belong with...

Someone that could see him as he really is, and see some value in who he is, too...

So Jaskier, sweetheart, listen to Milva...

Because, let's be honest, you're a bit useless in the whole "rescuing Ciri" venture. I mean, you're not useless now, since Geralt is still recovering from his physical and emotional injuries, does greatly benefit from having his emotional support bard around, and you're not quite entirely done holding out interviews to find him new useful companions to watch after him and help him on his quest (don't think I didn't notice what you were doing with Milva!)...

But ultimately, this is going to involve a lot of fighting, and that's not where you're at your strongest.

However, there's a King in need of some serious rescuing, too, that could really use your wits, ability to know, influence and inspire people, and your Sandpiper connections.

You're not a hammer, you're a fellow spoon, luv; and the whole mess that Radovid has been thrown into is a situation that would most definitely requires two spoons, at the very least!

Thankfully, you've already proven that you know how to make two spoons work together very well, and become an effective weapon to annoy the hell out of those trying to keep people trapped!

You and Radovid pooling your own respective resources and joining forces together?

Philippa and Dijkstra would be so fucked... So, so fucked... And not in the "fun way".

So, as soon as Geralt has sufficiently recovered and has enough people with him to watch his back out there, get back to Radovid ASAP and get your whole "spooning thing" on, alright?

Fair warning: He might specifically need a big spoon to help dig him out of the whole mess that's threatening to bury him alive right now... Just saying!

Anyway, getting sidetracked again!

I guess my point is that Radovid is displaying the kind of emotional intelligence, insightfulness, and empathetic qualities that are more traditionally associated with feminine characters.

And that, if they are to ever make him rise to a position of great power within the kingdom, the worst possible thing Netflix could do is probably make him lose those qualities.

If princesses, in fantasy, have been allowed to gain power and become beloved queens through their compassionate and nurturing nature, their ability to genuinely care about the fate of every living person (and even creature) on their land, and "triumph over evil" by building mutually beneficial alliances with said people and creatures, so should a freaking gentle and sensitive gay prince, I say!

There really is no need to "harden Radovid", and change the very core of who he is just to "give him power".

To have him become more confident and assertive in who he is and what he can do, absolutely!

But using his trauma as an excuse to make him become some kind of angry, "tough", paranoid, uncaring and controlling leader? No.

Especially in a context where Radovid is a character that people are expecting to become hard and cruel because of his videogame counterpart, please be brave enough to completely defy those expectations by letting him be his own person!

Because Netflix's version of Radovid, thus far, is a superb example of queer representation done right, too.

And I'm going to attempt to phrase that as best as I can, so hopefully what I'm saying won't be misunderstood, but having a queer actor portray a queer character does offer an added layer of authenticity to the role.

Don't get me wrong, I'm far from opposed to the idea of having straight actors portraying certain queer characters in a context where gay, bisexual, pansexual, etc. actors are also being offered straight roles.

I'm a huge fan of Malec (the pairing of Magnus Bane and Alec Lightwood), and I think that Harry Shum Jr. and Matthew Daddario did an amazing job portraying a very realistic and domestic relationship between a bisexual man and a gay man.

They both approached the roles with lots of humility, openness, asked for the queer community's guidance and feedback on their portrayal of the relationship (the fact that some of their fellow cast members on the show are queer IRL - including Nicola Correia-Damude, that portrays Maryse Lightwood - likely helped), etc.

And, when it came to filming scenes requiring to show a lot of love and intimacy between their two characters, they didn't hold back, either.

So, I do think that you can definitely be straight IRL, and feel confident enough in your own sexuality and in who you are to explore and embrace other orientations through your acting.

Not to mention that having such actors show that they aren't afraid to portray queer characters on TV, and to openly support and associate with the LGBTQ+ community, is setting a positive example for other cisgender straight people out there.

It kind of goes to show that, just because one is exposed to diversity when it comes to love, romance and sexuality, it won't magically "turn them gay".

Because, trust me, if Matthew Daddario didn't magically "become gay" after all those steamy kisses and emotionally/physically intimate scenes he had to film with Harry Shum Jr., likely nothing will!

And most bisexuals I've personally discussed the character of Magnus Bane with did feel like he was an accurate representation of their own sexuality.

Just like, as a panromantic and pansexual person, I'm 100% "vibing" with Joey Batey's portrayal of Jaskier.

I have no idea what Joey's actual sexual orientation is, or why he decided to explore pansexuality with his character before they made it official, but I feel like "he gets me".

Even his decision to make Jaskier become specifically romantically attracted to the way he perceives Radovid's intellect (sapioromantic) - and swoon over how intelligent and insightful he is on screen - is something that I can viscerally connect with, since I'm personally exclusively romantically and sexually attracted towards geeks.

If you were to pay attention to the way I'm looking at my partner dungeon mastering a D&D game, you'd think I was watching him perform a freaking striptease! It's uncanny!

So, even if Joey was to tell me that he is straight, I'd be more than fine and happy to have my own romantic and sexual identity be represented by him. I feel like he truly "gets me", regardless of whether it's from personal experience, or because of his own ability to put himself in other people's shoes and intimately connect with their reality.

It's just that, in Hugh's case, knowing that he is gay, and that the role has a personal significance for him, offers another layer of appreciation for the character and the actor's performance.

He just seems to be so happy to be living at a time and age where you can get that kind of representation in a major fantasy show - where you can have queer characters that are complex, fleshed out, and not reduced to mere stereotypes - and to be given the chance to be a part of the people that are making it happen, that you can't help but feel it, too.

It almost makes me wonder if they cast Hugh Skinner specifically because they knew how different from the videogames their version of Radovid was going to be, and they needed someone that would look like he has such a wonderful time with this role, and is so grateful to be there and be given the opportunity to play him, that hating on the character would literally feel like kicking a puppy!

Me: I don't think I could ever feel as protective over a fictional character as I feel about Jaskier.

Hugh Skinner: Hold my - I mean Jaskier's lute, I've got this!

Me: Ah, crap. Here we go again...

And the sad part is that, back when the whole controversial romance between Radovid and Jaskier was planned and filmed, no one had any idea that it would be Henry Cavill's last season.

But now, they bascially introduced a version of Prince Radovid that is the polar opposite of what the writers of "The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt" came up with, and paired him up with a character that has never been established as being queer in the books and the videogames (Jaskier)...

...right at the height of the angry toxic gaming community's "let's all assume that Henry Cavill is leaving because of the showrunner's blatant 'woke agenda', and all of these outrageous changes that were made to the source material the games (ex: OMG! They decided that a splendid full-figured black woman could fit the book description of "Margarita Laux-Antille emerged from the pool with a splash.. Ciri could not stop herself from taking a peek. She saw Yennefer in the nude many times and she didn't think anyone could have a more beautiful figure. She was wrong. At the sight of a naked Margarita Laux-Antille even marble statues of goddesses and nymphs would sob with jealousy"... HOW DARE THEY?!?!?!), and call for the boycott and cancellation of the series" movement!

Do you guys ever wish that the LGBTQ+ community had some kind of huge "bat signal" to let fellow queers - that, in this more specfic case, haven't seen "The Witcher" yet - know that there's this absolutely amazing queer romance happening on a show that totally deserves their love and attention?

And that said queer romance could really use their love and attention right about now - and throughout the next season - if we've any hope that the show will keep on running and remain popular for as long as humanly possible, given that it has just lost its biggest star (that was playing the main character, no less), and there's a bunch of people that have decided that they would no longer be watching it because of that.

Somehow, I'm just heartbroken over the prospect of the show not having the chance to really further develop Jaskier and Radovid's stories (both their romance, and each individual character's journeys), and the actors not having the chance to fully really portray and develop them.

Radskier is basically "Malec material" being introduced in a show that has a disproportionately high number of angry right-wing ideologists and incels gamers "fans" that are dedicating entire YouTube channels to trying to punish the TV show for daring to have a more inclusive cast and broader view of beauty standards than its videogame counterpart, and making a womanizer keep the same impulsive drive to love and sexually connect with a bunch of different people he becomes spontaneously enamored with, but without said sexual drive being motivated by them being women.

And bits and pieces of that narrative is bleeding into the more moderate audience, without realizing how problematic or nonsensical some of them are at their core.

I wish there was some kind of "Malec fans hotline" you could call to say "Guys! I know this may not be your usual TV show genre, but there's something exceptionally good happening right here that you need to come and checkout! You have two lovers from two different worlds experiencing an instant soul-deep connection in one of the most adorable "meet awkward cute" of TV history. And that connection throws one of them a bit out of a loop, because he's never romantically fallen in love before (he's greyromantic)... And one of them is expected to basically sacrifice all of his own wants and needs to honor his duty, because he was born into a highly regarded and powerful royal family... And he initially tries to conform to his family's expectations, but realizes that it is not who he is... And there's this situation where he keeps some information from the man he loves, and the other realizes it, he becomes scared that he made a mistake trusting him and pushes him away... But then..."

How do we get the audience that is usually into these types of stories to migrate towards "The Witcher"?

*Heavy sigh*

But yeah, all I hope is that Liam Hemsworth's performance as Geralt will be well-received, and that the show will be deemed successful enough for Netflix to continue investing in it so that these storylines and characters will be given the chance to continue to grow and develop...

#Jobriath #Hugh Skinner #Radovid #Radskier #Jaskier #The Witcher #My Posts #My Thoughts #My Stuff #My fucking feels! #All of them! #Videos

[vergencescatter]

What did Ahsoka learn? #2

I’ve seen some people suggest that she had almost lost touch with the Force; but I don’t think this is true. Whether her connection was weakened or not – or her trust in the Force was dimmed – that’s another matter for another time. In addition to everything that she carries with her from the Clone Wars, there is also an obvious fear about falling to the dark side. And with this fear there is logically also a sense of a lack of trust. This is an extra burden she has to carry inasmuch that her master is also a part of her. Ahsoka’s legacy is tied to Anakin’s legacy. As Anakin says, “Ahsoka, within you will be everything I am.” So part of her legacy is indeed death and war, and therefore also the immediacy of possibly falling. But that is not all that defines her; it is not all that she is.  

If everything Anakin is lives inside her, she is by consequence all of Anakin (as of each Jedi and their padawan). This is the same as what Rey declares in The Rise of Skywalker. Rey is all Jedi just as everything the master was, is passed down to and lives within the apprentice. But as was the lesson of the earliest Jedi – encoded in the very structure of the “Jedi way” – every day she can choose the light. Anakin tries to guide her in seeing for herself (in a self-discovering way) that she’s more than this terrible aspect of her legacy. She can take responsibility beyond Anakin’s fall – in a sense, Anakin doesn’t allow her to blame him for her present state. When she tries, Anakin challenges her as though to ask: you think you are like this because of me? Then fight what you think I am. Fight Vader or die. Ahsoka of course won’t let Vader win, she wants to live! Ahsoka having to face her fear – that anyone can fall, even good people. That potential to slip into the dark side, or perhaps even come to embrace darkness, exists in everyone. Anakin was her master, someone who she has absorbed and through which has become moulded in whatever way; if the greatest Jedi of his generation, perhaps ever, could fall, and if everything of him is in her, then will she also ultimately follow the same path? The lesson is to accept the possibility of darkness exists in all of us. No one is immune.

As the light of Vader’s lightsaber reflects in her eyes, as the possibility of becoming a Sith glistens before her, she instead chooses the path of hope and compassion. She refuses to succumb to darkness and instead chooses the light, turning off the saber and throwing it away. In this instance she embraces a future not just to survive, but to live. In a sense, it is a choice to learn from the past and take those lessons into the future for the sake of a better future. It is the parable that runs through the entirety of the Star Wars saga. It is like the centre of gravity for the entire battle for balance of the force. It is directly analogous to the lesson Luke Skywalker faces when confronting his fear in the dark side cave on Dagobah in The Empire Strikes Back, and then resisting to strike down Vader and embrace the darkness at Palpatine’s side in Return of the Jedi. Rey, too, had to face similar trials. There are many instances of such confrontation within many different Jedi, as much internal as outward. 

For Ahsoka, she faced her greatest fear rooted in the past; therefore, with reconciliation she is opening herself up for the future. She proves to Anakin that she is stronger than he was in resisting the fall, following which we see Anakin return to the light. Smiling, he tells Ahsoka, “there’s hope for you yet.” And we see in the concluding moments of the episode, a lighter Ahsoka in being; she seems to have regained balance in the force, trusting its path forward even if she doesn’t entirely know where that is going to take her.

#star wars #ahsoka series #anakin and ahsoka #ahsoka tano #finding balance in the force #the clone wars #facing the past #reconciling the trauma

[wanderlust-in-my-soul]

180 Degree Longitude Passes Through Us - Episode 6

Right at the beginning we enter with In, who is lying on the sofa and has been sleeping, holding in his hand the book "The Naked Philosophy". The book itself is not about naked philosophers, but about showing your innermost self, tearing down the walls and taking off the masks to show the other person the real you. If you have seen the episode, you can see this as foreshadowing. Because in the course of the episode, In exposes his demons and tells Wang about his fears and why he thinks he is a bad person.

We go on to lunch. I don't think In wanted to make sexual innuendos with the chopsticks. He has been too put, too absorbed in the philosophical question of whether love is political and why it is not only the two lovers who are involved in the relationship. While for Wang it is quite clear that a relationship is something very intimate between two people and none of the outside world's business, for In love between two people is something that can also affect and hurt others. Both speak from the different experiences they have already made and from how they perceive the world.

Wang takes the chopsticks and transforms the explanatory method about the politics of love into something very sexual, something very private, which at this moment is also only meant for In. In understands him quite well, which is easy to see from the way he reacts to it. On the one hand he is slightly shy and slightly amused, but on the other hand he also smiles at Wang for his advances and for the intensity with which Wang feels. In himself has distanced himself from his feelings, buried them far in the past, because he is afraid that if he allows himself to feel and love again, this grief and suffering will come back to haunt him. His view of everything is that of a philosopher, very theoretical. The following dialogue, why In does not continue eating, since he liked it, also illustrates this fear. In replies that he is afraid he might like the food too much. Of course he means Wang, and of course Wang knows that too. It is In's subtle hint that he is interested in Wang, but that fear still prevails.

Most of the episode then consists of him telling Wang about his father. It becomes clear that he blames himself for Siam's death. Not only that. He blames himself for all the misfortunes that have befallen the family, that they have not been happy, that Wang no longer has a father, that Siam has not been able to cope with his life. On the night of his graduation, Siam didn't want In to leave him, he wanted him to stay with him, to celebrate with him, and In practically pushed him into the arms of Sasiwimol. He had wanted for Siam to lead a happy, a normal life. The internal homophobia that has consumed In has made him think that his feelings are wrong, that he must suppress them, that they were not allowed and acted out even though he must have felt that Siam loved him just as much. But he tried to see Siam only as the big brother and his highly praised idol.

Even when Siam reveals himself to him, bares his innermost being before In, the latter pushes him away. And he has never forgiven himself. He has carried the guilt of rejecting his best friend, the love of his life, until this moment. He took it with him abroad when he began to study there and he carried it with him when he decided to live the life of a hermit. He has built himself a prison in solitude with these demons of the past. And now Wang, who is the image of his father, sits opposite him and through the narratives past and present blur together. Overcome by grief, he addresses Wang as Siam and Wang responds as he thinks he should and forgives him. He knows that In needs closure to start over, to accept Wang and his own feelings for him in his life. And he also reaffirms to In that Siam loved him. Something In has not been able to say throughout the narratives. It remains unclear what exactly Siam and In talked about that night. And yet the audience and Wang know exactly what was said. And we can see how much Siam must have loved In by the fact that he named his son Wang (engl. for Longitude). His great dream was to travel with In from the North to the South Pole, as he later wanted to do with his son. But even when naming his son, his thoughts were on the person and memories that made him happy, which was In.

And I respect the show so much for not having a kiss or any other intimate interactions. Wang confesses his love along with the assurance that Siam loved him. It is a tricky situation. Entangled in the clutches of the past, In cannot distinguish the present from the past. He cannot think clearly and should there be a physical approach between the two, he should be in full possession of his senses. It should be clear that he wants to be with Wang and not with Siam.

And what could be more fitting as an interruption than a call from Sasiwimol? The disruptive factor she already was with In and Siam. And for In a good opportunity to continue to repress and hide his feelings. Because of her, he didn't have to face his feelings for a long time, and now she again plays the role of the border between two lovers. While In, Siam and also Wang dream or dreamed of crossing borders, of travelling from north to south, she wanted stability, wanted to build borders and separate the people she loves from the outside world. She is trapped in her egocentricity just as In is trapped in his loneliness and Wang is trapped in his desire to be free. They symbolise Freud's structural model of the psyche.

In represents the super-ego, which is the moral principle, the values and norms of the family and society that form a personality. It evaluates and censors. It is the philosopher of the round. Sasiwimol, on the other hand, is the Ego. She is the one who carries out rational decisions. She has to be in control. She evaluates reality and can build defences. She lives in reality and adapts to circumstances. Her marriage breaks down, she has to adapt and find defence mechanisms to suppress the real reasons. She can create her reality. And Wang represents the Id. The unconscious pleasure principle. The drives and needs are reflected in him. He is freedom from social norms and evaluations and lives in the here and now. He wanted to find In and has found a way. He unabashedly shows In what he wants from him and what his needs are.

And we see this construction of the figures later in the depiction of loneliness. More on that in a moment. Let's return to the phone call.

Sasiwimol wants to hear from her son how proud he is and that his world revolves around her too. Since her people are not celebrating with her, she calls her son, notes how much she wants to celebrate with him and does not realise how hurt Wang is. Not one word did she address to him in the acceptance speech. Not one thought did she spare for him. And yet, when no one else is there to praise her, she tries to fall back on him. But Wang is busy, has no time for her and her desire for recognition. But the phone call has led to In arriving back in the present. Wang's next approach is blocked by him and he asks Wang to be alone for a bit. There is a difference between being alone and being lonely. What follows is a montage of the three in their different stages.

In in his life, which is determined by morals and values, he is once again in his cell of self-imposed solitude. But something has changed; with Wang entering his life, he is no longer lonely behind his bars as before. He is also on a plot of land together with Wang. Both are physically separated from each other, but not emotionally. And so In himself is not totally trapped behind the bars. Wang shows him affection that he has forbidden himself for years and slowly the wall around him begins to collapse and cannot be rebuilt. He has shown Wang his innermost demons. He has made himself vulnerable, has let Wang into his loneliness and, by choosing to show him this side of himself, has taken away the distance.

Sasiwimol, on the other hand, sits in her hotel room, shut off from everything else. She has her trophies, but no one to share this joy with. Almost lost, she sits on the couch and looks around the room. This is not how she had imagined it. She is not only alone, she is lonely. She has created this reality for herself, by her actions and, if necessary, by limiting the super-ego and the Id in her life. She has been rational and focused on success, muting the desires of her heart, and her morals have rendered her insensitive to the love that surrounds her. Basically, her pursuit of success has cut her off from her own personality - a new kind of loneliness, not even with herself can she find peace. What she really wanted to be was a mother and a housewife. She wanted to get love and give love. She wanted to sit in her own nest with the love of her life. Instead, she sits in an impersonal hotel room, far from the familiar figures of her life.

Wang, driven by the desire to be free, sits under the open sky. He has no limits. He is young, the world is open to him and his thoughts and ideas are just as open. His desires and urges shape his thoughts and actions. His mother's upbringing and his father's early death have made him lonely, but unlike the other two, he strives for union, for human contact and love, and has not yet built up inner barriers that prevent him from coming to the fulfilment of his desires.

In the last scene we have the bridge again. The symbol of crossing lines, crossing boundaries, reaching out to each other. They both look at the other side, the dark side, the dangerous side, the side of feelings and desire. In sits there, staring into nothingness. He has said everything, perhaps too much already. He has retreated back into himself, the guilt and grief once again taking hold of him. He seems overwhelmed by his own emotions, by the power they still have over him, but also by Wang's feelings for him and the confidence with which he can express them to him. In had taken off his masks, had made himself naked, had shown Wang his demons and now, through his silence, he is trying to put them back on. He needs to shut down his emotions again, needs to rebuild his wall. But when Wang threatens to leave his world, In cannot allow this to happen. In crosses his self-painted line, his boundary, and reaches for Wang's hand. Without words he asks him to stay, to build this bridge together, so that it becomes stable enough to cross.

And then they are on the same line, understand each other and their movements become one.

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