#perhaps i relate to how he's treated! who's to say!

[thatscarletflycatcher]

Thinking again about the darknesses that lurk underneath the surface of Sense and Sensibility (I have talked before about how Edward despite being the eldest is subjected to what we can argue is emotional and financial abuse by his family for years, and how the Dashwood women are disinherited on a whim of their great uncle), and this time specifically about the Brandons.

We get so little about them, and what we do get about them is all bad:

This lady was one of my nearest relations, an orphan from her infancy, and under the guardianship of my father... At seventeen she was lost to me for ever. She was married—married against her inclination to my brother. Her fortune was large, and our family estate much encumbered. And this, I fear, is all that can be said for the conduct of one, who was at once her uncle and guardian. My brother did not deserve her; he did not even love her... I have never told you how this was brought on. We were within a few hours of eloping together for Scotland. The treachery, or the folly, of my cousin’s maid betrayed us. I was banished to the house of a relation far distant, and she was allowed no liberty, no society, no amusement, till my father’s point was gained... My brother had no regard for her; his pleasures were not what they ought to have been, and from the first he treated her unkindly.

Mr Brandon Sr is shown to us as being a greedy man, a bad administrator of his estate, and a cruel father. His first son seems cut of the same cloth, and his pleasures were not what they ought to have been is one of the most, if not the most sinister line between all the Austen novels. But there's more about him!:

Her legal allowance was not adequate to her fortune, nor sufficient for her comfortable maintenance, and I learnt from my brother that the power of receiving it had been made over some months before to another person. He imagined, and calmly could he imagine it, that her extravagance, and consequent distress, had obliged her to dispose of it for some immediate relief.

The Brandons were married for two years; the colonel returns to England and starts looking for her 3 years later. Young Eliza was then a 3 year old toddler. We are obliquely told that Brandon cut all ties with his brother:

It was a valued, a precious trust to me; and gladly would I have discharged it in the strictest sense, by watching over her education myself, had the nature of our situations allowed it; but I had no family, no home; and my little Eliza was therefore placed at school. I saw her there whenever I could, and after the death of my brother, (which happened about five years ago, and which left to me the possession of the family property,) she visited me at Delaford.

Eliza is now 17, so the eldest brother died when she was 14, which is 16 years after his marriage with the older Eliza. In that period of time, he managed to squander the whole of her fortune, and put the estate in debt again, as we are told earlier on by Mrs Jennings:

Poor man! I am afraid his circumstances may be bad. The estate at Delaford was never reckoned more than two thousand a year, and his brother left everything sadly involved. I do think he must have been sent for about money matters, for what else can it be? I wonder whether it is so. I would give anything to know the truth of it. Perhaps it is about Miss Williams and, by the bye, I dare say it is, because he looked so conscious when I mentioned her. May be she is ill in town; nothing in the world more likely, for I have a notion she is always rather sickly. I would lay any wager it is about Miss Williams. It is not so very likely he should be distressed in his circumstances now, for he is a very prudent man, and to be sure must have cleared the estate by this time. I wonder what it can be! May be his sister is worse at Avignon, and has sent for him over. His setting off in such a hurry seems very like it. Well, I wish him out of all his trouble with all my heart, and a good wife into the bargain.”

We know the Bennets, with five daughters, and without a saving mindset, still manage to live very comfortably with 2000 a year, and if they had had any mind to save money, they could have provided all five of them with decent dowries/money enough to keep them out of poverty when their father died if they were single. It is clearly not that the money isn't enough, or that Delaford is an unproductive estate; in fact, it is described to us as almost paradisiac:

Delaford is a nice place, I can tell you; exactly what I call a nice old fashioned place, full of comforts and conveniences; quite shut in with great garden walls that are covered with the best fruit-trees in the country; and such a mulberry tree in one corner! Lord! how Charlotte and I did stuff the only time we were there! Then, there is a dove-cote, some delightful stew-ponds, and a very pretty canal; and every thing, in short, that one could wish for; and, moreover, it is close to the church, and only a quarter of a mile from the turnpike-road, so ’tis never dull, for if you only go and sit up in an old yew arbour behind the house, you may see all the carriages that pass along. Oh! ’tis a nice place! A butcher hard by in the village, and the parsonage-house within a stone’s throw. To my fancy, a thousand times prettier than Barton Park, where they are forced to send three miles for their meat, and have not a neighbour nearer than your mother.

One interesting character, though forgotten because only mentioned in passing, is the Brandon sister. On one of the quotes above we get that she's in Avignon for her health, and we know her husband is wealthy (and probably abroad with her) because it is his estate that the planned picnic is for:

A party was formed this evening for going on the following day to see a very fine place about twelve miles from Barton, belonging to a brother-in-law of Colonel Brandon, without whose interest it could not be seen, as the proprietor, who was then abroad, had left strict orders on that head. The grounds were declared to be highly beautiful, and Sir John, who was particularly warm in their praise, might be allowed to be a tolerable judge, for he had formed parties to visit them, at least, twice every summer for the last ten years. They contained a noble piece of water; a sail on which was to form a great part of the morning’s amusement; cold provisions were to be taken, open carriages only to be employed, and every thing conducted in the usual style of a complete party of pleasure.

It is implied that Brandon and his BIL are in very good terms (and we know he's not afraid of cutting ties with bad relatives), and one can safely guess that at the very least he cares enough about his wife as to have her travel for her health. Another guess can be made about her getting married about 10 years before the events of the book. Whether she lived at home before that, or was at school or somewhere else, it isn't said.

But this way you can feel there's a parallel in a way, between the Brandons and the Tilneys: a greedy, cruel father, a son that follows on his steps, and a younger brother and sister managing the toxicity as best they can. Talking about this with @bad-at-names-and-faces, she brought up the idea that in that scheme, Cathy would be Eliza (if it wasn't her not being an orphan, or a rich heiress, and how that connects with Austen's line about Cathy not being born to be a heroine at the beginning of Northanger Abbey). Certainly part of it is the romantic gothicness of the Brandon backstory, united with NA's commentary on Gothic tropes, but to me it drove home with even greater force how such a situation would break a man; losing Cathy that way would have definitely broken Tilney, and if we had met him 14 years down the line, would he have appeared to the unacquainted much different than Brandon appeared to the Dashwood sisters?

#jane austen #sense and sensibility #Northanger Abbey #colonel brandon #Henry Tilney #these are the spaces in the novel where you can see how Austen's craft evolved and changed #The mystery about Brandon's past works well in the context of keeping the surprises and the twists coming #but it doesn't lend itself easily to relate to the character and understand him properly #which I somewhat delusionally hold onto hope that it would have come across much better in the original epistolary form #Austen is kind of trying to pack a Wuthering Heights size and Tenant introspection levels story #into one and fractions of infodumps within her comedy of manners #And that's really A LOT to put on the plate of your first novel

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

i dig his earnest soul & neglected middle child vibes. he's so Charming and for what reason!

#perhaps i just enjoy pathetic men! #perhaps i relate to how he's treated! who's to say! #grabbing him and putting him on my trinket shelf #i'd listen to his poetry. i'd hate every fucking second but i Would listen <3 #look at him! Look! i want to perhaps toss him around in a sack! #there is a 3d model of him in my mind and im just. violently spinning him #my fav pillars: latter & toodaloo THANKS I LOVE THEM. #scribble salad #latter pillar #welcome home puppet show #ok its time to queue this and sleep. im seeing spiders #you know it's time to sleep when the trash bag strings turn into a tarantula! #god. latter. i love him and his too many stupid fucking limbs AGH HE'S SO PERFECT. #howdy's just a hater smh. and repressed as shit - i see him. he's not fooling Me....

[evilminji]

Dani should Kidnap The Clones.

It's basicly protective custody. Preemptive child services, if you will. NONE of these fuckers out here makin adorable clone baby just cause they want kids!

*kicks down the door to your shady lab* Knock Knock! ITS THE POLICE! *Walker's Shock troopers swarm the place as Dani secures the kids*

Look me in the eyes. You KNOW he'd love an excuse to enforce The Rules on people technically outside his jurisdiction. It's for The Children(tm)! Why, he simply had no CHOICE!

Meanwhile? Dani is shoving all these mal-adjusted Murder Clones into her Lair? Which is? Basicly a Door style Lair she hid inside Danny's Lair for safe keeping. It's shoved behind a vending machine just outside the observatory. And the inside? Goes on for DAYS.

Like national parks and every beautiful beach she ever came across. She smashed together the BEST sights and places she's found in her travels, like a collection. Always adding more. New waterfalls, new noodle shops, new fields of wine grapes. It's... beautiful. Snapshots of every wonderous little thing about Earth, stitched together.

They can't hurt anyone. Can't achieve their "objectives". Are just treated like actual individuals and the children they truely are. Are surrounded by other Clones. So it's NORMAL here. Just? All of it.

But also?

Dani and Dan? Teaming up to make History's Scariest Adoption Agency(TM). Dan runs it. Dan wants to know why EXACTLY you want a kid. Explain yourself to Dan. What are your references? Qualifications. He's doing a home visit to inspect the premises. He BETTER not find any suspicious Labs.

And? It just? Appears out of nowhere. It's powered by Zone Bullshit. One second you're thinking "oh woe is me D:> I will never have a child to fill my lovely home, because of all my Superhero Secrets and also because government bureaucracy!" And the next?

.....wasn't that an out of business taco bell? "Zone Adoptions"?

"....Free Clone Baby?"

Okay that is HIGHLY suspicious and as a hero you are basicly legally obligated to investigate. But now it's bigger on the inside? Fancy waiting room? You are being interrogated? Wait, no, you're supposed to be the one doing the-?

Somehow? You leave with your Clone Son from another Dimension. And a pamphlet. You're scheduled for a home visit in three days. You... you never told them where you live.

Somehow that doesn't seem like it will slow them down.

Did the Fae just Suprise Baby you with a clone baby? Can they DO that? W... what's happening? What days is this? Who ARE YOU PEOPLE?! HUH!?!?

Just? Imagine. IMAGINE. I was gonna say Bruce... but?

Damian.

He finds himself... pondering What Could Have Been. Had his Clones not wanted him dead. Wondering if he could have saved them. If, perhaps, he had found them as infants. Raised them. Could he have given them a good life? Been a good father?

He gets emotional. Fatherly. He's about 14.

Dan's been around Ghosts too long to remember how humans age or how age relates to development. This one TALKS like An Adult. Must be one. Probably just short.

And Damian? Never backs down. The second Dan starts challenging him? His character is flawless and his morals divine. He has never done anything wrong, ever, in his LIFE. Fuck you. And on TOP of that? He not only will be the SINGLE GREATEST FATHER TO EVER FATHER, his home is the most loving and beloved ON THE PLANET!

In entirety of EARTH'S history, no less!

....what are they arguing about?

*is handed a baby and kicked out of Dan's adoption agency*

See you in a few days!

(o.o ) *happy gurgling from the baby* *Damian.exe has stopped working*

Smash cut, after Damian speed runs his stages of grief at his own Dumbass Life Choices, to his rocking back up at the Manor like? Congratulations, Father. I have brought you your first grandson! Do Not ask how I obtained him. It was likely dubiously legal but I will not be returning him. We have bonded.

And just? Annihilating the collective Bats on one go. You did what? You have What?! That is a baby! WHY IS THERE A BABY?! How is there a baby!? WHOS BABY!? *sirens going off and everyone panicking*

Will Damian be allowed to KEEP the Baby? Ha! Hell no. Bruce will. Damian is a child. But it will be a Needlessly Dramatic Bat Cold War Of Dramatic Drama to pry that small cherubic baby from his grip long enough for Bruce to fill out the paperwork.

Child thieving bastard that he is. How dare he. That is Damian's SON! D:<

*happy oblivious baby noises as Alfred feeds him in the background, while the Bats do their Dramatic Custody War*

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @hypewinter @nerdpoe @lolottes @mutable-manifestation

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #minji's writing

[baeshijima]

— “hands off! i’m taken!”

for the first time in your drunken daze, you don't recognise your own husband.

CONTAINS : gn!reader, 983 wc, fluff, (attempts at) humour, mentions/reference of alcohol consumption

A/N : neuvillette is in pain (emotional) while you are in pain the morning after (literal).

it’s not often neuvillette finds free time amongst the seemingly endless piles of papers on his desk. when he does get some free-time, he always makes sure to treat you out to the places you most recently show interest in. however, these evenings out more often than not result in you having one too many drinks. (“it’s a rare evening date!” you would tut, waving a finger at him while your free hand holds the wine glass.)

he worries for you and your health after all, and he most definitely doesn't want you to experience these so-called "hangovers" you bemoan about as he coddles you through it all the mornings after.

and so what better way to help prevent such a tragedy than by putting a stop to it prematurely?

“hands off! i’m taken!”

…or so he thought.

regardless, that doesn’t change the fact neuvillette now stands in the middle of one of the (now quite humid) private rooms in the upper floor of hotel debord, clutching his stinging hand close to his chest while staring at your huffing form in a mixture of hurt and shock. he blinks once, twice, thrice as he slowly begins to process your words — or, lack of.

“pardon?”

“i said,” you stress, narrowing your gaze at him as you begin to sit up, “hands off! i’ll have you know i’m happily married to the loveliest, most beautifulest man in teyvat and i don’t need some… some meddlesome old creep trying to get in between that.”

were this quite literally any other day besides one you were drunk on, neuvillette would be jumping for joy over the moon (metaphorical… probably) and documenting this moment in his diary he keeps safe and secured in a locked drawer under his desk, positively cooing and sighing in pure adoration at your adorable self.

(he also doesn’t have the heart to tell you beautifulest isn’t exactly a real word, but he’s flattered all the same. and it makes you that much more adorable in his eyes.)

alas, this isn’t any other day. no, instead it is a day which marks his drunk spouse being unable to identify their own husband, and your intoxicated words render him silent. 

now, don’t get him wrong, he’s glad you are, for a lack of better words, raring to defend your marital status and honour when intoxicated. however…

‘meddlesome old creep’? is that how he appears? he thought he looked quite dashing this evening, what with the way you sang his praises after he got himself dressed and questioned if you were actually married to one another.

then again, he supposes it’s still accurate to say you’re still questioning whether or not he is your husband. just not in the joking manner you initially did.

seeing how you’ve begun to grow a little restless with his prolonged silence, neuvillette awkwardly clears his throat and begins in what he hopes is a tone which masks the minor betrayal your words caused. “i’m glad you feel that way about our marriage, mon cœur, but—”

“stop!” neuvillette’s mouth instantly ceases movement. “how… how dare you, a stranger, call me that! just who… who do you think you are? my husband?”

“actually, i am.”

you blink at him. “you’re what?”

“i am your husband. neuvillette.” in all honesty, he doesn’t know why he’s nervous. perhaps it’s your scrutinising gaze causing him to sweat, taking him back to the first days when he could finally put a name to the emotions you brought out from within him — ones which have never weakened, but only seem to grow stronger as the days pass by. his hands clam up, and he’s glad you can’t see him wiping his palms against the fabric of his clothes from where you sit. even when you’re drunk, you tend to remember the most random moments. more often than not, they end up being in some relation to him.

(neuvillette laments the times where you only remembered his brief loss of composure.)

after a few more agonising seconds of staring, you speak up once more. “you’re lying.”

there are many things neuvillette wishes to say in response — such as showing your wedding rings, pulling out the small polaroid of you both nestled within his inner coat pocket, recalling the first day you met, the first day you talked, the first “thank you” you ever said to him, the first—

quickly, he snaps himself out of this spiral. just in the nick of time too, for you open your mouth to say something else. “my neuvillette is cute and lovely and pretty and everything a person could only dream to have.”

is he not cute right now? is he not lovely and pretty right now? is he not everything a person could only dream to have right now? what makes the him through your drunken lens so different to the him in your memories?

against his better judgement, he decides to ask the big question.

“then… may i ask what i am?”

“a liar.” and, as if to rub salt in the wound, you add, “i don’t like liars.”

neuvillette feels as though he could cry.

(when you awoke to a pounding headache the next morning, the last thing you expected was your husband brooding on the edge of the bed, his back facing you as he mumbled something along the lines of, “i would lie for you… not to you…” though it was a little hard to tell amidst the incessant pitter-patter of rain against the window.

despite racking your brain in an effort to figure out what caused him to be in such a state in the first place, the only things you remembered from last night were him wiping his hands on his clothes, as well as him looking as though someone slapped him across the face.

yeah. perhaps it is best you don’t tell him that.)

mon cœur = my heart, which can be read as my sweetheart/other half/life, etc.

if you enjoyed this, then reblogs with/or comments are greatly appreciated !! <33

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#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #neuvillete x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #neuvillette x you #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact #favoniuslibrary

[weebsinstash]

something that I think would be, truly one of the worst things about the yandere Batfamily really truly is their power to make any and every problem you've ever had completely go away in no time at all

it can be such an awful feeling to see that you struggled in vain with something that was nothing at all to someone else. You could have significant issues that have followed you all your life and have had traumatic impacting effects on you and these people could come in and sweep that all away. Student loans you've been paying off for years, if not a fraction of your lifespan, still burying you in debt? We are talking fucking decimal points on the scale of Bruce Wayne's wealth. That bad leg from an old work injury? Let's grab you one of the best doctors in Gotham, if not the entire world, fuck, we may even get you a doctor or medicine that isn't even human-made! Y'all want a magic leg? We know this chick who can speak backwards, you want a magically healed leg?

Crippling loneliness? Eternal sunshine and objectively best Robin Dick Grayson is here to brighten your entire world since he knows what it can feel like to be hurting and alone and he's literally like the heart and soul of the entire manor besides Alfred

Chronic pain, an undiagnosed disability, or maybe you're not confident in your fitness? Jason has extensive knowledge of injury recovery, physical therapy, and overall knowledge about human biology and musculature and how everything correlates

Family issues? Daddy issues? Let Resident Troubled Kid Expert Alfred Pennyworth be your new grandpa. He's dealt with more than one temperamental snappy individual, and he'll use his patience, experience, and wit to wear down all your stress and hostility. It's hard to keep being cruel to someone who's nothing but kind to you, and he has plenty of patience and delicious baked treats to hold out until you give in

Honestly just the fact most of them are so fucking young would get under my skin. You could be approaching your 30s and be sitting here at the Wayne family dinner table as their weird sister/mom/girlfriend/whatever and being all "I've just always had these struggles my entire life, I dont know what's wrong with me, I feel like I can't control how I act or feel and I hate it" and someone like Tim who depending on the source material and where you are on the timeline is a literal teenager with extensive knowledge of criminals and psychology is just over here, "oh, that? You have chronic childhood trauma, recurring resurfacing conflict related ptsd, severe abandonment issues, emotional regulation problems that are probably biological, and also you probably have autism, and there's nothing wrong with any of that :)" and then he turns to Bruce and starts talking about how his school is taking a trip abroad to Greece while you sit there processing that everyone around the table has extensively psychologically evaluated you and you probably have your own file on the Batcomputer (you do. It's excessive.)

It's just. The psychology of having all these problems you've struggled with be wiped away by someone else like it's nothing and how, that can result in making someone feel all the more worthless and helpless. Oh, Bruce was able to just make all your problems disappear? Clearly YOU weren't trying hard enough. Tim is able to suss out what's wrong with you? Well YOU'RE the dysfunctional idiot who was born wrong, and YOU were the one choosing the wrong doctors. You're watching all these young teenagers or young adults be vigilantes and travel the world and learn multiple languages and you're like. Normal guy Steve from the grocery store. You know? They take control of your life and make you feel like a side character in it, because everything you do is now attached to them, and all of them and all of their adventures are so... spectacular

And really, someone with a meaner heart, and maybe someone more blunt like, say, Damian, could perhaps come in and make some comment, "see? This is why you needed our assistance in caring for you" and what are you gonna do, NOT act like they basically fixed your entire life in less than a year's time, with the one objection of kidnapping and imprisonment? You're just over here, "um yeah, actually, I'm an adult and I can take care of myself, you don't need to TAKE CARE OF ME???" meanwhile Bruce and Alfred are exchanging knowing looks while you speak as if the old butler hadn't needed to help you call your doctor and other important urgent matters because being on the phone with strangers gave you such intense anxiety. Ok yes sure honey you are a lovely functional adult and your brain is big and beautiful and perfect 🥰 now shut up about going to live back home on your own, go play Xbox with your new brothers or go bake something with Grandpa while the world's greatest detective sits down in the Batcave using the Batcomputer to track down and "have a friendly chat" with that one childhood teacher that gave you that one really specific trauma-

#yandere batfam #yandere x reader #yandere batfamily #yandere stuff #sinprompts

[anemoelliacia]

the five times neuvillette knew he loved you

warnings: minor 4.2 spoilers, female reader, major fluff minus a sad neuvi who needs comforting in one part

▶ i recommend listening to the song till forever falls apart by ashe and finneas while reading this chapter <3

The first instance was when he saw you making a routine out of regularly interacting amongst the Melusine with nothing but care, practically treating them like your own children. The Melusine are virtually your favorite people in Fontaine, besides him of course. You’re always sure to greet them, never messing up their pronouns, and giving them presents on their birthdays. It is also a common occurrence for you to give them handmade lunches. The first time Neuvillette saw you in the Palais Mermonia, giving Sedene a handmade lunch his heart swelled with affection for you, the sweetest person he has ever had the privilege of meeting. He watched you in admiration, speculating that this feeling in his chest must be love developing for you. 

Secondly, is how you taste water with him despite how silly everyone thinks it is. You never fail to cooperate with tasting different waters, assuring him that you can in fact taste the difference, even going so far as to pick a favorite to make him happy by participating in his hobby. You even created a hierarchy ranking system just to rank which waters you like, and which you don’t. Neuvillette loves when you engage in the hobby of water tasting with him, and he thinks he’d wouldn’t rather share this with anyone else but you, because no one else is more worthy of drinking the more expensive speciality bottled waters he has. He thinks, “Maybe I love her and that is why I wish so much to share my hobby with her?”

Thirdly, was the first time you bid him goodbye when he left for work in the morning. He had spent the night at your house for the first time as well, and waking up to you the next morning was almost the sweetest part of everything that happened. You practically begged him to stay for the day, to blow off work- even though you know he really can’t. He could not help but giggle over how clingy you are in the morning, after you’ve just woken up. This already had warm feelings stirring within him, but then… when he was about to head for the door, that is what had his heart wanting to burst out of his chest. You stopped him before he walked out, kissing him on the cheek and fixing his crooked collar. The moment was so sweet and domestic. He felt heat rising on his cheeks as you walked him out the door telling him that you’d bring him lunch later. As he walked the rest of the way to the Palais Mermonia, his thoughts were only filled with you, replaying that moment in his head and thinking, “is this what love truly feels like?”

Fourthly, was when Charlotte asked him about you during an interview. Charlotte finally got that interview she wanted with Neuvillette, and she just had to get the hottest scoop on him. She asked him many work related related questions, but she couldn't not ask him about you after she saw the two of you together- she needs a good story! She asked him, “So, Monsieur Neuvillette, I saw you at the cafe with a woman a few days ago, care to tell me who that was?” and Neuvillette’s face immediately lights up at the mention of you, he goes, “oh, that is my beloved…” He practically goes on a rant saying sweet things about you, but he catches what he is doing and cuts himself off with a clearing of his throat as his face starts to go pink. Charlotte is standing there smiling at him widely and she says to him, “You sure seem to like her a lot don’t you?” Neuvillette does not hesitate to answer, “yes, I think it is safe to say I like her a lot, perhaps I am even growing to love her…” knowing it will be the top story in the Steambird newspaper within a few days that Fontaine’s one and only chief justice has found a lover. 

The fifth and final instance was the first time you comforted him after a hard trial. Since the Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale is no longer working due to recent events, he has taken charge of deciding people's verdicts on his own. Which, as you can imagine, is a draining task- especially when a criminal’s charges are of a sensitive matter. One day, after a particularly hard case, that hurt him to have to sentence the person as guilty… all he wanted was to be in your company. He showed up at your doorstep in the pouring rain, his clothes soaked completely through. Of course, you immediately rushed him inside and gave him a change of clothing. While he was changing, you threw a pot of tea on the stove for him- and he couldn’t be more thankful for you. He quietly drank his tea in your company to warm up after being chilled to the bone from rain soaked clothing, and you stayed with him not forcing him to talk about what was wrong until he was ready. When he was ready to talk, he tugged you along to your bed to cuddle with you. For once, you held him as he spilled his hardships from the day, the rain outside never letting up; however, he quickly settled into the comfort you gave him, growing to feel at ease- and that is when he knew. He loves you, with every fiber of his being. So, he finally says, “I love you with all my heart.” and all you can do is reply that you feel the same, holding him tighter.

▶ if you liked this, then check out the other parts linked in my masterlist :) every genshin man i write for is getting their own part.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact drabble #genshin impact fluff #neuvillette x reader

[mango-bango-bby]

yandere! platonic miguel w a reader who isn't treated too well by their parents in their dimension and tries to be at HQ a lot to escape please?

Ty for ur time!

♡ Escape ♡

Content Warning ⚠️: Yandere, platonic yandere, dad!Miguel, teen/tween!reader, mentions of abuse and neglect, isolation, basically kidnapping

Summary: Your family is mistreating you and Miguel notices (Platonic!Yan!Miguel O’Hara x GN!teen/tween!reader)

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

♡ You loved being a spider-person. Although it wasn’t the powers, or the love from the public for your super-hero persona, or even really saving people that you loved about it. You liked being able to hide. You liked swinging your way up to the top of a building and staying there for hours, away from home until you absolutely had to home.

♡ So when you were introduced to the spider-society, of heroes just like you, of course you wanted to be there. You stayed there for hours, even late in the night. Even doing mundane things, just at HQ instead of home.

♡ Miguel of course noticed. Yes, you were an “annoying kid” as he told himself. But you also helped him, you were strong and helped him track down anomalies. He didn’t want to admit it, but he had grown fond of you. You were just a silly kid, he didn’t outwardly say it but he felt like he was responsible for you. Perhaps it was the father in him, but he felt the need to care for you, keep you safe.

♡ He did notice that you spent a lot of time at HQ, but more specifically in his office. You would just say hello to him and sit on the floor. He was a bit annoyed at first but you weren’t interrupting so it didn’t bother him to much. He did notice that you would just… sit there. You wouldn’t do anything spider-man related, you just exsisted. You would eat in there, watch things on your phone, do your homework, watch him do stuff on the monitors. You did everything in his office, maybe because you felt safe with him.

♡ Miguel noticed, but foolishly didn’t think much of it. He actually liked you, so it didn’t bother him too much. Maybe it was the father in him, or maybe that you clearly were trying to help him. But he felt protective over you, you were just a kid after all.

♡ What he definitely noticed and was concerned about is when one day, you showed up wearing your hero mask. You kept your spider-person mask on. But not in battle, just hanging out in his office. You were just watching him do stuff on the monitors while wearing your hero mask. Of course, you were hiding a bruise but no one knew.

♡ Although you eventually couldn’t take it anymore, all of your emotions erupting out at once. So you went to the only person you trusted, the only person who made you feel safe. Which was Miguel. You walked into HQ crying, keeping you mask on to try and conceal your tears. And you just hugged him and he rocked you side to side as if you were a baby.

♡ After you tell him, he knows exactly what he has to do. How could he ever let you go back to a family like that!? So you stay with him for that night. But he convinces you to stay with him longer, your family isn’t safe for you to be around. Perhaps he may need to pay a visit to your parents, they were going to be your canon event anyways so he might speed that up.

♡ You’re only a child. Nothing is exactly safe for you in your universe. Not your family, and especially not being a hero! So he begins to isolate you, convincing you to stay home. But it’s better than your parents so you gladly accept being isolated and kept away from the rest of the world. But at least you’re getting loved, being cared for and doted on by your real papa.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Thank you for reading, darling!!

(A/N: You all are loving platonic yandere lately because it’s like all that’s in my inbox 😭😭 Not that I’m real complaining though 🫶 I’ve been working on what Halloween requests I have lately 💗)

Masterlist ➸ ♡

#soft yandere #platonic yandere #platonic yandere x reader #yandere miguel o'hara #yandere miguel x reader #yandere!miguel o’hara #platonic yandere miguel o’hara #platonic yandere miguel o’hara x reader

[celluloidbroomcloset]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It is about love.

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

[yanderes-galore]

Ugh, Panther I don't know what exact time you'll be getting this ask but as if now it is not the 2nd in my time zone. But I don't have any time tomorrow so I hope its okay to send something earlier. If not, please feel free to ignore!

I just need *sucks in breath and clenched fist* Yandere Gojo from JJK with the prompts 14. , 34. and possibly 35.

with someone who has sorcerer powers but has grown outside of the jujutsu society? They fight because they genuinely wanna help people and Gojo introduced them to the school to be a teacher too - in hopes to get another strong ally but uh oh he got obsessed. Like, he does not want to lose you like he lost Geto and maybe you'll grow to understand him too. so imo the prompts work well. Can either be platonic or romantic I think he can be both!

Thank you!

Sure, friend! I hope this is to your taste :) I really hope he isn't too OOC or anything. There was no plot structure here 😮‍💨... I just followed the direction my mind guided me.

He's a subtle yandere here Ig.

Yandere! Satoru Gojo Prompts 14, 34, 35

"It's too dangerous in the world. You need me, you should know that!"

"No one else understands me except you!"

"Don't push me away, dear... I only want to be closer to you!"

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Fear of attachment/loss, Trauma implied, Clingy behavior, Overprotective behavior, Controlling behavior, Soft yandere, Threats near the end, Dubious companionship/relationship.

It had been a long while since Gojo had found someone he could relate to in some way. The companionship wasn't quite what Gojo had with Geto long before... but it was close. You were strong... yet so isolated from the rest.

A familiar feeling to him.

Gojo could tell you were a strong Sorcerer when you entered the school for a job. As expected... Gojo wanted to test you to see if you were right for the job. By the end of your examination... you were approved.

Leaving Gojo curious and excited.

In Gojo's eyes, strong allies were important in the field. It's what he strives to find and teach. Strength has always been important to protect the weak.

Gojo at first hated how interested he was in you. Yet you were so mysterious... according to you, you never went to Jujutsu High to learn your craft. Which leaves Gojo baffled on your strength.

You aren't stronger than him, far from it, but you are certainly strong and full of potential. During your job, Gojo often checked in with you. Many students never really saw Gojo away from you for long.

He was always playful and laid-back with you. Safe to say you both get along well as teachers. Perhaps even too well...

Gojo realizes he's too attached when the worry starts to settle deep within him.

The bond you share reminds him a lot of Geto. Too much, actually. Such a thought makes him pained.

Gojo's concern grows, even as he offers to train you. You're a teacher skilled in your craft. Gojo really shouldn't be worried.

But... are you handling the new environment well? You seemed like you lived an isolated lifestyle. Does the city bother you?

Gojo despises the worries he has. All leftover emotions from when he was a teen. He... just can't help himself, however.

You always care so much for others. As a teacher and Jujutsu Sorcerer, you end up sacrificing whatever you can to see students and friends safe. It's honorable...

But Gojo doesn't wish to lose another he's close to... not when he finally feels he has someone who gets him.

Such behavior makes Gojo stick around more often. To the point you even begin to wish he left you alone. Despite being a strong Sorcerer similar to him, Gojo also seemed to treat you like you couldn't defend yourself.

You didn't respect him babying you... it was an insult to your skills.

"Don't push me away, dear... I only want to be closer to you!" Gojo whines, a frown on his face as you sit in your empty classroom. You snort, amused that he acts like a child while treating you like one. You have no idea what's gotten into your friend and ally as of late.

"Gojo, I don't wish to speak with you." You state in a stern tone.

"Why?" Gojo replies, walking over to lean on your desk. He's as casual as ever it seems.

"You've been awfully... suffocating." You admit bluntly. "I am an adult who can handle themselves."

"... not in this world." Gojo sighs, gaze never once leaving yours behind his glasses. He notices your unamused look and straightens his posture.

"It's too dangerous in the world. You need me, you should know that." Gojo frowns. "The city has way more curses running around than where you came from."

"I can handle them." You retort.

"And if you can't?" Gojo responds, staring you down. Something about his staring unnerves you. You're silent, Gojo oddly going back to smiling after you stop arguing.

"I'm the strongest, you should really just let me take care of things for you. It would be much... safer." Gojo's tone is oddly relieved and gleeful.

"... Gojo... you can't be there for me all the time." You try to reason.

"Says who?" Gojo frowns. "No one else understands me except you! Am I just supposed to sit back and lose you?"

His words and lack of composure surprise you. Gojo's quick to fix his sudden outburst, however, sitting beside you and holding your hand. It's an action of comfort...

But you can tell there's a pained expression in his usually playful eyes.

"... just listen to me, okay?" Gojo whispers, looking back at you as his grip tightens. "You'll be safe if you just... keep me close."

"Gojo-" You try to speak, but Gojo covers your mouth.

"I don't care how strong you are... I'm stronger. If you don't let me protect you..."

Gojo's grin turns... unsettling. A twisted show of teeth that makes it look like he'll snap. You swore he even chuckled. Your heart beats faster when he leans closer.

"I may just have to keep you all to myself no matter the cost... that way you'd be safe and I can't lose you. How's that sound?"

#yandere jjk #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere satoru gojo #yandere gojo

[jesncin]

Coddling Colonizer Guilt

"Performative diversity is when MAWS features a Native American variant of Lois Lane in the multiverse episode only to end the season on a Thanksgiving episode."

...is something I like to joke with my friends as a shorthand for referencing MAWS' squeamish approach to politics while still trying to reap the clout of "diverse representation". I want to get my thoughts out there and perhaps start a discussion over why this feels off.

Some disclaimers: Firstly, I'm not Native American. Understand this is an observation I'm making from an outsider perspective with no personal authority. I'm just a disappointed Asian Lois Lane fan. Secondly, I know the MAWS crew/creators had no malicious intent in any of these (what I consider) poor writing decisions. I'm simply here to challenge and analyze these narrative and visual choices.

MAWS takes a fairly controversial take on Superman mythos so far. Unlike Superman's historic roots as an allegory for Jewish immigrants with Clark coming from a Kryptonian socialist utopia (leading the imperfect people of Earth to a better tomorrow), MAWS chooses instead to reimagine Superman as a descendant from a planet of "alien invaders". If the leaked(?) concept art (warning potential spoilers for s2) is to be believed, Clark is the direct descendent of the leaders of the "Kryptonian Empire". Supposedly gone are the parents of Superman being scientists that warn of the destruction of their home planet- instead we have the "proud, loving, brilliant" "leaders of the Kryptonian Empire".

While we don't know if this is the direction the show is going in, there are already cryptic hints of it being planted and thematic elements set up that point to it being a possibility. Clark had spent a majority of the season wondering what/who he is (being incapable of talking to Jor-El's hologram because of a language barrier) only to find out his supposed origins in episode 9. He's devastated learning that he's an alien invader and, once he regroups with his friends, angsts about believing he's a weapon sent from Krypton to invade Earth. Asian-Lois Lane and Black-Jimmy Olsen assure White-passing-alien-man Clark Kent that he's different and not like other colonizers. Clark ultimately saves the day, proving he's an exception. It's curious then that the season ends on Thanksgiving.

As I've mentioned before, MAWS is exhaustively squeamish with getting political. Whatever happens in the show that resembles "themes" is quickly contradicted with very little consistent internal logic. One minute Superman is supposedly a threat that "wipes out good American jobs", should "go back to where he came from" and Lois makes a hope speech about how we shouldn't treat people who "are different" and "don't look like us" (??) with cruelty (so Clark's an immigrant going through xenophobia?) and the next he's a redeemed colonizer (a more prominent thematic arc). One minute Clark is "different" and scared of being othered- likened to a gay couple and allegorically closeted, and the next his friends call him out for being a lying liar for not disclosing his marginalized identity within a week (the narrative frames Lois and Jimmy as being in the right). This show's writing is non-committal with what it wants to say, and largely goes on vibes. That is to say I don't think the writers intended for the themes of colonizer guilt to accidentally tie into Thanksgiving as a set piece for their final episode.

I'm sure the reason the writers chose Thanksgiving as their final episode is because it's "relateable". Half the episode is dedicated to slice of life family reunion shenanigans and the dang turkey still not being cooked through. But in choosing Thanksgiving, the writers told on themselves here with their biases. The existence of Thanksgiving implies the existence of genocide (of Native American people) by colonists in the MAWS universe. And yet Black Jimmy Olsen doesn't know what racism is (Mallah and the Brain give him a judgmental stare as Jimmy admits he can't relate to being violently marginalized) and Asian American Lois Lane doesn't understand immigration and xenophobia (constantly being entitled to Clark's immigrant identity, being incapable of comprehending why he would keep it a secret, because secrets are lies). The MAWS crew wanted a "relateable" set piece but in doing so ended up reinforcing the historical revisionism the holiday entails. A foreign colonizer sharing a meal with his friends of color on Earth, whose culture, history, and identity are all white washed.

I would like to challenge this idea that Thanksgiving is somehow the "relateable" choice. Why pick this holiday? Why not celebrate Thanksgiving as a National Day of Mourning (as some Native Americans do)? Why not pick any Jewish holiday as a nod to Superman's creators (ignoring this version's colonizer interpretation for a second)? Why not pick Lunar New Year, a holiday celebrated by many people including Koreans (Seollal in South Korea)? It could've been another fun opportunity to showcase Lois' heritage, and create a fusion of cultures from Jimmy and Clark's families. At its most non-political and secular, why couldn't they pick any weekend? This is what happens when a show doesn't consider its world building and setting in a holistic way. MAWS will nod to xenophobic rhetoric, portray allegorical queer marginalization, and make the vaguest nods to systemic bigotry (Prof Ivo displaced a whole neighborhood! Yet we never hear from those figurative displaced people). But it does nothing to discuss any of that on a deeper level. Its characters of color don't know what racism is and Thanksgiving is just a fun family reunion, guys.

All this and they had the audacity to sneak in a Native American Lois Lane in the multiverse episode?? Why is she, out of all the Lois Lanes in this screencap, the only one in full traditional wear? Why isn't she in a smart casual business fit like Black Lois and STAS white Lois? Would she not have been recognizably Native American to the non-Native audience otherwise? Isn't this tokenizing? Do you think she has a xenophobic dad in the military like Korean American Lois does?

But that fits MAWS' approach to diversity, doesn't it? Surface level cultural nods, maybe make Lois wear a hanbok one time, and let the audience eat it up. Never mind that both Korean American Lois and Native American Lois have been stripped of their culture and history in every other aspect.

I use the word "relateable" a lot here, but I think the important question to ask is "relateable for who?". 'Immigrant' is too charged a word, so MAWS universalizes Clark's marginalization to "being different". Superman isn't even an immigrant in this version, that was all a smokescreen for the twist that he's actually a descendent of colonizers! Being wracked with colonizer guilt is way more relateable to the white audience than being an immigrant, surely. Thanksgiving is more relateable than celebrating any culturally specific holiday our "diverse reimagining" could have represented. Characters of color being functionally white (in a way that doesn't threaten middle America) is way more relateable. MAWS is a show that doesn't want to delve into Native American history. It would rather put a Native American Lois hologram on a pedestal and call it a day.

#ramblings #jesncin talks maws #media criticism #includes discussion of that leaked(?) concept art btw so warning for potential s2 spoilers #this is long but I wanted to provide context as I talked #hope yall enjoy! and also pls be nice!! #jesncin dc meta

[doberbutts]

@corvus--caurinus

Yup! Per my neurologist, before the mid/late 00s the medical community was sort of, uh, unconcerned about so-called "minor" concussions, because the symptoms didn't seem to last longer than a few seconds and thus it was treated as a non-issue. Most parents didn't take their kids to the doctor for them and the few who did were told to let the kid rest for a day and then get back to life as normal.

Then a breakthrough study happened and revealed there is no such thing as a "mild" concussion. All concussions are concussions and all concussions are brain injuries. And all concussions run an exponentially higher risk of increasingly dangerous and life-affecting symptoms as you knock your brain around more and more. And with each subsequent concussion, you run the serious risk of these symptoms becoming permenant brain damage. Turns out, your brain does not actually like to be jumbled around in there, who knew.

The white flash is usually caused by one of two things: a jarring motion in your retinas (not a concussion) or the impact of your brain banging against the fluids and other matter inside of your skull (that's a concussion). Same if you "see stars"- the "stars" are the damaged nerves that just banged into something firing off electrical impulses trying to figure out how to cope with what just happened. And of course if you hit your head or are shaken to the point of losing consciousness, that's your brain's equivilant of the computer that, when smacked, turns itself off. All of these are concussions, and while it may seem like knocking yourself out should result in a worse concussion than just seeing stars, brains don't always follow that rule. All of these concussions will eventually stack on top of each other and will cause a major TBI once you hit your head a little too hard or perhaps even just one too many times.

So when he said "okay so you were never *treated* for a concussion but have you ever had this happen after hitting your head?" well... yes, actually. I was hit in the head by a thrown baseball bat (accidentally) in gym class and promptly took a nap. I was awake and otherwise fine in a few minutes so besides being sent home that day and having a large bruise/egg nothing really happened. I was doing flips on the gymnastic bars and lost my grip and whacked my head against the ground and, you guessed it, was unconscious. By the time my friends got the recess teacher over I was already awake and just a little dazed- again they sent me home but that's it. I fell through one of those dome monkey bars at a playground with my mom and hit the ground head/neck first. This was before the age of cell phones so Mom told me she was trying to figure out what to do about her very unresponsive child in the middle of the park (it's dangerous to move someone who may have broken their back/neck but she also can't just leave me laying on the ground to knock on someone's door to call 911) when I woke up and outside of a stiff neck seemed "quiet but fine".

In fairness according to my neuro there's not really much a doctor *could* have done medically as I bounced back without any problems except maybe have me take it easy for a couple weeks (I'd've died of boredom with no stimulation) but it still should have been noted that each of those were concussions. Then the amount of times that I've been dazed or saw lights... too many to count. I work with high energy dogs in an impact sport, they headbutt me or punch me or knock me to the ground all the time. I was an active kid and an athlete prior to my heart acting up, so sport-related injuries just sort of come with the package and that includes knocks on the head.

But sitting in his office and hearing him say that, and then recovering from the TBI and examining what it's done to my life... it made me realize how much people take for granted. It just takes one too many knocks on the head. He said the major thing he regrets as an older neurologist is that for a very long time, most of his practicing career and certainly a significant portion of my own life, no one really cared about concussions. But the line between concussion and TBI is very blurred, because in truth a concussion *is* a brain injury, and at some point you will concuss yourself much much worse than you were expecting due to the buildup of damage from not taking hitting your head seriously.

The best way to think of it is breaking your ankle. A broken ankle is a broken ankle, there's no such thing as a "mild" broken ankle. But there are grades of severity- a hairline fracture on a single bone is a broken ankle, but recovery time and process are relatively straightforward in most cases. Completely shattering multiple bones on the other hand significantly lengthens recovery time and the process is significantly more involved with a risk of further complications. If you keep doing whatever it is that gave you a hairline fracture, one day you won't be so lucky, and you will completely shatter the whole joint assembley.

That's how concussions are. Those cute little knocks that cause a white flash and nothing else? That's a warning to stop doing that and be more careful. You get to hobble around in a boot for a while to think about your choices leading up to this point. Knocking yourself out? Well you've snapped a bone. You get a cast and some crutches. Full blown TBI? Congrats, the whole ankle is fucked and you need major surgery now.

[im-not-samantha-im-samanta]

Request by: @jellibean2018

Hello, Jelli! About two months ago you sent in a request, however my tumbl did me dirty, and I ended up with your ask, and the entire fic deleted! (Though, much to my relief, I found screenshots of the fic in a chat with my friend who was reviewing it. Thank god).

So, I have to tag you, and remind you what you wanted.

From what I remember, you wanted a fic with a female sinner Reader who was once a victim of Alastor's, and the two ending up meeting again in hell. You also wanted an unsettling vibe with Alastor reveling in the memory of killing Reader.

I also want to add that I apologize for how long you had to wait for this fic to be done. I haven't been doing well with fics lately, so this was a struggle. And my mental health started going shit too which is why I stopped posting for so long...

Anyways, I really started to struggle with writing fics, so I ended up experimenting with this one - it's kind of written with huge metaphor kind of style? Hope that's okay with you...

Anyways, hope you'll enjoy reading this at least a little, and I once again apologize.

_

🎙️// The sweet history we share... //🎙️

{Alastor x female!Reader}

___________________________________________

Type: Fanfic

Settings: Not specified

Genre: Unsettling? Can't tell if it actually gives that vibe though,

!TRIGGER WARNING!: Mentions of cannibalism, murder, violence, blood, saliva, dead bodies, Alastor revels in the memory of killing Reader, possible yandere vibes? Alastor sees Reader as nothing but a meal, but he puts her on a pedestal - that's probably some kind of fucked up attachment that surely has a name? I'd say the vibe is quite unsettling, but I can't say that for sure, Angel indirectly suggests the use of drugs and hints at sex related activities (but it's just a single line), and that's probably all?

Sidenote: Reader is written as a female just as requested,

Sidenote: I have no idea if I wrote Alastor well... but it feels like I really made him ooc as fuck and ruined the whole request,

Sidenote: Rereading this I think everyone is ooc as fuck even if they have minimum dialogue,

_

That should be all,

Hope you'll enjoy,

___________________________________________

Ah, nostalgia. Ah that sweet nostalgia. And that embrace of her.

She comes in unannounced, an unexpected guest. But oh is she welcome.

And oh so welcome are those treats she brings to the table.

She easily settles in, making herself at home. And into a cup, a bunch of memories she pours.

And that demon, the radio demon as he's called - he drinks from that cup greedily.

And like a man dying of thirst, he can't help but ask for another cup to be poured.

His senses feel high, his body tingling. A feeling of addiction is what fills him.

And he can't get enough of those sweet memories, so, he downs one cup after the other.

But with each greedy little sip, the thirst only grows and grows - he's not had his fill still.

So, the demon goes on and on, tasting one memory after the other.

And his mouth waters a big deal the more he can taste, and he savours each and every one.

Ah, and he can't tell which one of the sips of memories he enjoys the most, which one is the most saliva inducing one.

Is it maybe the giddy old memory of how he followed you through the town?

With you completely unaware? Naively trusting those poorly enlightened streets?

Trusting that a bit of weak light will keep you safe?

Or perhaps it could be the sweet memory of the thrilling chase through the forest?

That one forest where thousands of dead bodies laid buried deep in the ground?

Those dead bodies in whose footsteps you followed suit?

Oh! And what about that memory of how you so desperately tried to navigate around and hide, escape his clutches?

Even if he could hear your sharp breaths as clear as the day?

Oh! Or maybe his favourite one could be the moment of when he tackled you down?

Pinning your body under his, finally cutting the chase so the real fun can begin?

And that beautiful moment of how you hopelessly dug your nails into his skin til blood trailed down his arms?

That one beautiful moment engraved into his head of how you desperately clawed at those lanky hands of his?

His hands that trailed, squeezed and pinched at your body, feeling you up like a winning prize, like a fine piece of venison?

Ah, it was so hard to pick which one was the most treasured one!

Hell, it could even be the simple memory of the melodious sounds of your cries.

That melodious, angelic sound of your pleading, whimpering, sobbing and screaming.

Especially those sounds you made when he bit down onto your flesh.

Oh, and that taste that hit his taste buds back then...

He still remembers it like it was yesterday.

And his tongue still tingles, and saliva still floods his mouth every time he thinks of just how tasty you were back then.

And now his mouth waters as he silently wonders... would you still have such taste even now?

Or did becoming a demon change the sweet, addictive flavour of your fragile flesh and thick blood?

Oh, how his senses urge him - beg him - to just grab you and take at least one single little bite...

I'd be really easy too, now that you're a part of the hotel staff.

Silly little you, you didn't flee when you were faced with the fact that he - the one who took your life - also works for the hell's princess now.

You didn't take the more than gracious chance to turn on your trail, run and never return while you still could.

No, you are too stubborn, and you insist on staying, even despite how frightening seeing him on the daily is for you.

Silly little you! Don't you realize how easily he could snatch you away and repeat history?

All it would take is a single moment of when you're alone and-

Ah, but he can't do that - at least not yet...

Where would be the fun in that?

It sure would be a shame to end your lovely reunion this fast and early on, no?

Not to mention the odd, messed up attachment the deer demon feels towards you...

Now, not to be mistaken! What he feels isn't the usual attachment one would think of!

It definitely isn't the good or healthy kind either...

So, we shall not be mistaken, let's not get our hopes up and think he cares - for he doesn't.

You mean nothing to him - at least as far as it comes to you as a person.

Your value could be most likely compared to something of a sentimental value, a plaything at best if you will.

Still, no matter what you are to him - you are by far his most favourite one at that.

That's what can be said for a fact.

And for reasons beyond us and even Alastor, those memories he shares with you are put on a pedestal - put way above the rest.

There were so many faces that twisted in fear, so many names he kept tabs on, so many tastes he's tried, and so many lives he's taken.

But very vast portion of them is long forgotten, not really standing out all that much.

Nor holding any real value. Barely any of them mattered...

But you, on the other hand - oh, he could never forget about that one lovely night you shared...

And even when more victims - more faces, more names, more tastes - came, they couldn't compare.

No, they never could.

Those memories of you and your taste were always stuck in the back of the radio demon's head no matter what new person was on the menu - what new dish was on his plate...

So, one can only imagine just what he feels now that you're back within his grasp.

Oh, not even his wildest fantasies could've come up with or prepare him for such sweet moment!

This was like a gift from the Devil himself!

Yes, a gift - one that Alastor would make sure to cherish greatly...

Ah yes, he would cherish you so.

He'd take his time unwrapping you like the perfect little gift that you are - he would savour you.

And only when he'd get tired of messing with you, only then he'd get to the real deal.

Oh, and when he'll finally do, it'll be like a starving man plunging onto bread crumbs!

It'll be such a beautiful, satisfactorily moment - Alastor can almost feel himself drooling at the mere thought of the moment.

Oh, how he just can't wait for the very moment!

The moment is so close, and yet so far - and every little glance your way is like a test.

A test of how long he can resist the temptation.

Every little move you make, every little noise that leaves you, every little expression your face twists into.

Oh, he can barely hold himself back!

His body feels so restless, and his thoughts are all over the place.

And no matter how much he reminds himself to be patient, to not cut straight to the chase just yet.

He still can barely keep himself in check.

His thoughts are going to dangerous places, and your familiar, sweet scent teases his nose.

Oh, and you're so within reach too!

It'd really just take a single little moment and-

"Geez, that perv's still at it?".

Oh, that's right.

He's almost forgotten about those curious eyes watching him from afar.

Watching, and trying to see inside his head...

But judging by the response Vaggie's hateful comment receives, it seems she's the only one to see right through him.

The only one to see the real danger behind that wide smile he always wears...

"Ya-uh! His eyes have not left her ever since she's joined the hotel staff!".

Ah, Charlie. Dear, sweet Charlie - now she's something else.

She's completely different from her girlfriend - she's quite naively trusting and optimistic.

Fully believing that there's a piece of good in everyone.

And hence not being concerned for your safety when the deer demon started to show an interest in you.

Ah, that sweet, silly little thing.

Caught up in trying to see only the best in people and their intentions...

It's amusing - and truly adorable.

And oh, does it play into Alastor's favour oh so well...

"Okay, that's like so sick and totally-".

Oh, Vaggie - she tries, she really tried to warn the others.

Make them see Alastor for what he truly is.

But aside from Husk, nobody really listens to Vaggie's concerns.

No, she's not all that listened to when she voices her opinions on the deer demon.

Not even when she expresses her concerns for how the latter constantly follows your every single step no matter the time of the day, no matter where you go...

And to think she has quite enough of a say in things as the hotel's manager, as well as the princess' girlfriend!

Oh, that poor little thing - it must be such an awful feeling.

How humorous!

And oh, how unfortunate...

"Ah! Do you think he's-?".

Niffty is completely on board with Charlie.

Similarly to the princess - she too doesn't see the real harm in Alastor's advances towards you.

Seeing his behaviour as nothing other than subtle romantic gestures.

The little demoness' version of romance sure is rather twisted...

And yet, it's still quite surprising Niffty doesn't see the harm in things.

After all, she herself knows Alastor just as well as Husk does...

"Yeah! Strawberry pimp totally got the hots for that one!".

Angel was caught up in the spiderweb of romanticizing the same thing as well.

Just like Charlie and Niffty, he couldn't see the truth...

"What? No! Are you all crazy?! That's not the case at all! How can you all not see that?!".

Oh, Vaggie - again and again, she really tries and tries.

But the result is always the same - nobody pays her warnings or concerns any thought.

And yet she still keeps on going.

What a miserable little thing she is.

"Oh my- I have like the best idea!".

Not even Charlie notices how Vaggie nearly begs for them all to see things from her point of view.

None of them can see things for what they really are.

Alastor's got them all right where he wants them.

Without even having to try much...

"We should totally get the two to have some alone time!".

Charlie is quick to naively play into the radio demon's games.

Without even knowing she's doing that.

She can't see this all is exactly what the deer demon wants...

And neither can Angel or Niffty.

Aw, those naive little fools...

"Yes! We should- like- create some really romantic atmosphere and leave them to it!".

Niffty follows through in Charlie's steps.

She too plays right into what Alastor wants.

Though whether or not she's aware of it is up for a debate...

"We should lock 'em up in a closet together or somethin', or even give them a little... somethin'... to just... ya know, set just the right mood in.".

And angel is quick to fall for Alastor's games too...

Ah, those silly fools...

Unaware they're making all this much easier than it should've been.

They're sealing your doom - the inevitable end you're ought to meet at his clutches.

They're making this all too easy...

They're shoving the little mouse right into the lion's den.

What unfortunate silly fools.

And what an unfortunate little you.

Your friends are serving you to him on a silver platter.

All of them - or nearly all of them - thinking they're doing you a favour.

Thinking they're simply helping a mere fool in love gain the heart of his love interest.

When in reality, they're actually helping a starving predator get closer to his chosen prey...

It was rather humorous - a good source of entertainment for sure.

So, Alastor would humour the group.

He'd indulge in their schemes of trying to set you up with him.

He'd gladly play along and lead them to think he's interested in you.

Well, interested in you they way they think he is, not the way he actually is...

No, they can't know what he actually wants from you.

They won't know.

He'll make sure of it.

They won't know until the very last moment, until the deed's already done.

Or, he'll lead them to think your disappearance has nothing to do with him.

After all, the sudden disappearance of a poor little sinner like you would be nothing new in hell.

You'd just be added to the endlessly growing numbers of hell inhabitants going missing.

Your disappearance would be just a part of the mere statistics.

Well, he'll see.

All depends on which option would prove to bring more benefit.

As well as which one would prove to be more entertaining.

That's what, to the deer demon, matters the most at the end of the day.

For now, he'll just go with the flow and let the situation progress by itself.

With the occasional shove to the right direction, of course.

But it doesn't seem like he needs to wait for that long for everything to be set in motion...

"Hey, Al, you got a minute?".

Yeah, he really doesn't need to wait for that long...

___________________________________________

#hazbin hotel alastor x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor pilot x reader #hazbin hotel pilot x reader #alastor x female reader #alastor imagines #im not samantha im samanta requests #im not samantha im samanta ask #im not samantha im samanta works #frenklinesamuelsrequests #frenklinesamuelsask #frenklinesamuelsworks

[kittenintheden]

No Thoughts, Just Vibes

Oh, you know, just a little Solstice/Midwinter treat for you. Enjoy!

Rating: E Pairing: Astarion/Tav (descriptionless) (BG3) Content warnings: PWP, PIV sex, oral sex, sex toys, tooth-rotting fluff

---

Their adventures by night in Faerún take them all over, from the Underdark to check up on Astarion’s siblings and their new spawn charges to Waterdeep in search of potential arcane solutions for certain undead individuals with sun sensitivity.

In fact, they find themselves entering Waterdeep just in time for Midwinter. The magicked streetlamps of the place glow golden and are festooned with all manner of wintery decorations, which feel oddly out of place in the seaside city but have a magic all their own nonetheless.

It’s just past dark when they approach a wizard’s tower, having spent the daylight hours getting to know the tavern and inn down the way while the sun still sparkled off the water. Now that it’s safe once again, Astarion and Tav ring the bell near the tower door and are greeted with a series of chiming meows in the style of a popular carol.

“He really doesn’t have to try so hard,” Astarion says, smirking despite himself. “And yet.”

“Let him be the dork of his dreams,” Tav chides playfully. “He deserves it. We all do.”

On cue, the large door of cypress wood before them swings open and their wizard friend holds out his hands in the foyer of his tower, arms wide.

“You made it!” Gale says, beaming. “Come, come inside. Please mind Tara, she’s been quite taken with the mistleberry and has made herself sick more than once despite my gentle reminders .” He yells the last words toward the spiraling staircase and from a nook nestled high in the wall, he receives a hiss in response.

“Relateable,” Astarion mutters as he comes inside, but he accepts an embrace from Gale nonetheless, giving him a stilted pat on the back.

Truly, the lot of them are glad their adventuring brought them to Gale’s doorstep. It’s nice to be off the road and surrounded by modern luxury again, and the wizard’s gone out of his way to ensure their modest celebration is full of delights. He’s even procured a top-vintage sanguine refreshment for Astarion.

“Did you imbue this with clove?” he asks, swirling it in his goblet and giving it another sniff.

“Not exactly,” Gale says, cheeks rosy from his own imbibed glass of wine. “Were you aware certain herbal and spiced components cross the blood barrier when inhaled or consumed? Give the resulting blood a bit of an essence for a certain frame of time. Garlic is the most common offender, but I thought I’d skip it, in this case. This donation came from a dear friend in the spice trade. One who doesn’t ask many questions and frequently dabbles in certain other trades.”

Astarion blinks against the verbal onslaught, then turns to Tav and says, “Hold on. Is that why I break out in hives after you’ve put too much garlic in your food?”

Tav’s also delightfully tipsy and she raises her glass to him. “I love you, dearest, but I’m not giving up garlic for you. Some prices are simply too steep.”

The night winds on and on like that until eventually Tav nods a sleepy head onto Astarion’s shoulder and he guides her off to bed in the spare room at the base of the tower. He returns to Gale, who’s ragaling Tara with his own rendition of “Marvelous Midwinter” to her great disdain.

“So, Gale,” Astarion says, interrupting to give Tara an appropriately respectful scritch on her head. “I have a bit of a favor to ask, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Not at all, my friend,” Gale says, swaying. “How can I help?”

Astarion reaches into his pocket and procures a folded bit of something. He hands it to Gale, who unfolds it and examines it with some curiosity before cocking a brow at him.

“Any possibility of, erm. Recreating something to this effect?” Astarion asks. “One tied to a command word, perhaps?”

“Oh, certainly,” Gale says, going into tinkering mode as he examines the object. “I would need a few components, but luckily I have them in stock, thanks once again to my spice merchant friend. A little bit of articifer ingenuity to craft an arcane battery, some relatively complex enchantment, and a… wait.”

Gale gives Astarion another look and the vampire tilts his head and smirks.

“Right, I’m not asking,” Gale says, eyes back on his new puzzle. “Give me a day.”

“Lucky we’ll be here for three,” Astarion says with a light laugh.

The morning of Waterdeep’s official Midwinter celebration dawns bright and mild, the sea breeze rustling through the thick curtains they keep drawn in the guest room to ensure Astarion doesn’t wake up with burns or worse. They doze in the double bed in their underthings, Tav draped across Astarion’s chest and breathing softly as she wavers in and out of sleep. He’d actually fallen asleep last night, pressed up safe against her, and now he smiles into her hair, tracing his fingers up and down her arm.

Eventually she stretches along the length of her body and yawns against his skin, resting her chin on him and looking up into his face. She blinks lazily and runs a finger over the length of his nose with a delicate touch.

“Morning, dear,” she says, voice still rusty with sleep.

“Happy Midwinter, my love,” he murmurs in return. “I got you a little something.”

“Oh?” Tav purrs, sitting up a bit. “Is it fun?”

He arches a brow. “I certainly hope so.”

Astarion tangles his fingers in her sleep-mussed hair and draws her to his mouth, kissing her deeply as she relaxes into his body, letting her tongue stroke against his. He rolls them both to their sides and hooks his leg over hers, taking his time as he lights up her skin in all the ways he knows she loves. She laughs, tilting her head back to expose her throat to him, and he licks along the column of it, though he doesn’t bite. He wants her fully aware this morning.

With one hand, he deftly undoes the clasps of her brassiere and tosses it aside. Her smallclothes follow quickly after. She hums, pleased, lazing onto her back as he kisses down her breastbone, palming one of her breasts and rolling his thumb over her nipple until it peaks. His mouth works at the other, teasing and swirling until she’s arching up into him and rubbing her thighs together.

“Is this my gift?” she sighs. “I like it.”

Astarion chuckles against the space below her breasts as he continues working his way down. “In part, I suppose. But not quite.”

He runs his tongue underneath her breast and then leaves her a moment to fetch something from the side table. She whines at his absence, but he doesn’t leave her waiting long. He rolls back over, slipping a ring snugly down onto the second knuckle of his middle finger.

She giggles. “Are you proposing to yourself? Fitting, honestly.”

“You’re cute when you’re lust drunk,” he says before he puts the weight of his body on top of hers, kissing her deep.

He hauls her leg up by the thigh, wrapping it around his waist so he has better access as he runs his hands down the length of her, gripping her arse tight before moving around to the front and teasing his clever touch between her legs. She’s already going wet, her arousal making for a smooth draw over her skin and she settles into it, a wide smile on her face, knowing she’s in a master’s hands.

Astarion grins. She has no idea.

He places his hand flat against her slit, cupping her and resting the ring against her in just the right place.

“ Deliciae ,” he whispers.

The ring sends a brief, rapid vibration through her core, just beside her clit, and Tav cries out in surprise, bucking her hips and gripping his biceps, her breath going erratic. She’s fully awake now, staring up into his face, wide-eyed.

“What in the hells,” she gasps.

Astarion gives her a light kiss. “I’d hoped you’d like it,” he says. Then, again, “ Deliciae .”

“Oh,” she says, her thighs shaking on either side of him as another vibration pulses through her. “Oh, dearest . Again.”

He's happy to comply, kissing her between her gasps and mewls, repeating the command word in a sultry whisper while he works her with his fingers in the meantime. His own arousal aches where it’s pressed against her hip and he gently grinds it against her for relief, just enough to keep his own head as he watches her break to pieces beneath him.

Tav rolls her head back and opens her mouth in a silent scream as her legs shake, incapable of holding back their shudders as a shivering, powerful peak comes over her under the little toy. It’s familiar but sweeter; her hips rise off the mattress and then slam down as she tips over the other side. Astarion feels her clenching and pulsing, strong and slick, and the entire ordeal is instantly worth it to bear witness to the unraveling. There is no pleasure, no greater high, than knowing he’s the one who brings her to this state. The one who has the privilege. The one she chose.

She blinks back to herself, a moan low in her throat as she tries to clear the spots in her vision. When she meets his eyes again, he’s panting himself, still rolling his hips to get some relief against her side. Her gaze clears as she breaks the surface of her pleasure and she growls, grabbing his face and bringing him down to her mouth, nipping his lower lip between her teeth until he whines from it.

“You liked my gift?” he whispers, breath quickened.

“Oh, yes,” she sighs. “Now let me give you yours.”

Tav’s hand snakes down their bodies to find his fingers and she takes them, slipping the ring off. He’s so dazed with lust that he lets her without thinking about it too much and gladly moves as she rolls them both until he’s the one on his back. Her mouth is so hot on his cooled skin as she places open mouthed kisses everywhere he likes – the space behind his ear, the place where shoulder meets neck, every rib on the way down. She spreads a hand in the center of his chest, over where his heart resides, and presses him into place as she licks down the line between his abdominal muscles.

Astarion’s cock twitches, throbbing against the weight of her body as she continues her path, and she uses her free hand to give him a rewarding squeeze and stroke, running the pad of her thumb over the split underneath the head. She gives his foreskin a little swirl, helping make sure it’s properly drawn down, and he thrusts up into her hand with a pleased murmur.

It’s taken time and significant gentle coaxing to get him to a place where he simply lets go and allows her to lavish him with attention. A lesson he’s forever learning, rewriting centuries of conditioning with care, with passion, with love. He closes his eyes and focuses on her touch, allowing himself the pleasures she’s happy to share with him.

With a slight jolt, he twitches when he feels her warm tongue follow the path of her fingers, rolling circles around the head of him and applying long licks down his length. Her fingers move to his sack, gently rolling his balls in her palm, warming them. She places a knuckle against the spot beneath them, kneading deep but gentle, finding the place that drives him wild.

“You are so good to me,” he sighs as she moves her mouth over his head again. “That’s so good.”

He senses her smile just before she swallows him down, taking his length halfway into her mouth and working him a few times before she pulls off and says, “ Deliciae .”

Astarion’s vision whites out as the knuckle pressing into his perineum sends a hard vibrating pulse through him at the same time she takes his cock in her mouth again. He gives a sharp cry.

“Bleeding hells,” he manages. “I… I…”

She pulls off of him, tears forming at the corners of her eyes, and says it again.

Pleasure upon pleasure crashes over him, lighting up his entire body as he writhes under her touch. She goes slow enough to make it delightfully tortuous, though it would be incredibly easy to push him over the edge in short order. She moves the enchanted ring, experimenting in different places – the base of his cock, the rim of his arse, the crease of his thighs – and each spot brings new sensations.

He’s an absolute mess by the time she draws back and crawls up his body, his hands weakly grasping at her hips as she sits up on her knees, gingerly reaching between her legs to hold his cock in place as she slides down onto it, both of them near sobbing at the sensation.

“I love you,” he manages with what little breath he can hold. “Gods, I love you, I love you.”

“Love you,” she breathes back as she rolls her hips hard against him over and again. “Love this. All of this.”

Tav rides him slowly, firmly, with intention. When they get to a point where they can’t help but pick up speed, grinding one another into oblivion, Tav lifts his shaking hand in hers and takes the ring from her finger so she can slip it back onto his, the movement reverent.

Astarion looks her in the face as he reaches down between them with his fingers spread over the base of his cock where they meet, resting the ring right alongside her oversensitive clit. 

“ Deliciae ,” they say together.

They shatter in the same moment, eyes rolling back, crying out to the morning light. The waves of delight roll like the tide outdoors, rising up the shore and receding back to the great unknown.

Tav collapses onto Astarion’s chest and his arms are so very heavy as he lifts them to wrap around her back. They breathe, and pulse, and live. Eventually, he begins tracing soothing patterns along her skin.

He clears his throat. “I take it that’s the inaugural positive review for Gale’s potential toy venture?” he says.

“Oh gods, that’s where…” Tav covers her face with her hands. “Oh gods, I have to go out there and see him.”

Astarion laughs and she laughs with him.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #astarion x tav #astarion #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #bg3 fic #smut mines #onlyfangs

[linka-from-captain-planet]

Florrickology, Part 4: Florrick, Wyll, Ulder, and Character Assassination

We all know it, we all hate it. They did my beloved dirty, used her to shit all over Wyll's quest at what should be a climactic moment, and I will never forgive never forget it.

In Act 3, if Wyll rejects Mizora's offer to rescue his father from the Iron Throne in favor of keeping his pact broken, Florrick will ambush the party, inform them that "Lady Mizora" told her what he did, and seek retribution unless talked down.

This is stupid, makes no sense, assassinates Florrick's character for no good reason, and represents some of Larian's laziest NPC writing--unsurprisingly, in the midst of Wyll's personal quest, and smack dab in what's supposed to be the climax of one of the longest quests in the game.

As I said in previous posts, Florrick being willing to go to the mat for Ulder any day or time of the week is consistent with her other characterization.

Up to the point of this confrontation, the player has observed that she'll follow Ulder to literal hell and back, chase him across half a continent, and become so disappointed in her perceived failure to save him and, by extension, the entire city, that she completely gives up and quietly awaits execution, without even trying to escape (which she probably could do, as a level 11, probably Enchantment School wizard).

All her voice lines and all the things others say about her paint the picture of a loyal and true-blue friend, and a public servant of the highest caliber, "as steady as Tyr's heartbeat" and "as upstanding as the Sword Mountains." She may be sharp and shrewd, and perhaps a bit domineering and curt, but she's not cruel. She may be a bit cavalier, but she's never rash.

She's not stupid. She may be more emotional than she seems.

She has killed someone before, on the spot, for coming after Ulder. It's consistent that she would do it again, even if she had to hunt them down this time and risk being caught by the Steel Watch. In her mind, she has nothing left to lose.

What is not consistent is her being willing to kill Wyll on a flimsy accusation (that she doesn't even really believe if you read her thoughts).

Now as I've mentioned, Florrick doesn't seem to feel any particular way about Wyll; she seems to regard him simply as her friend and boss' son, just a good kid she patted on the head at parades, and when they meet again in Waukeen's Rest, as a valuable asset in rescuing Ulder and saving the city.

And I like this! It highlights that Ulder was Wyll's entire world, and it was Ulder, alone, who failed him and cast him aside. I think this is also part of why there's never any indication that Florrick and Ulder are/were romantically involved, because this would change the expectations for how she treats/feels about Wyll. But as it stands, simply being a woman in the vicinity of a child, even one in need, didn't obligate her to be a mother.

And this the feeling is mutual. In-game, there's also no indication that Wyll had or desired had any sort of personal relationship with her, as he talks about her accomplishments but not, say, seeking her out for advice or spending time with her. He mentions crushing on Stellmayne, but when asked about Florrick, he goes right to "yeah she fucks, she sniped a guy right in front of me once." He only regards her in relation to his father and the city, never himself. She's his dad's confidant and advisor, and an exemplary public servant, but nothing in particular to him.

So, it's not how Florrick feels about Wyll that makes it out of character for her to attack him, but because of how she knows Ulder feels about Wyll.

She says herself, when talked down in that confrontation, that Ulder wanted her to find Wyll and pass his birthright on if he fell, because as many mistakes as Ulder made, and as wrong as he was, and as unacceptable as his behavior was, in the end, he trusted his boy with the fate of his beloved city.

So, Florrick would never betray Ulder by attacking his son, without irrefutable evidence, especially when she'd been told explicitly to trust and help Wyll by the person she respects and reveres the most in the entire world.

As one of the most prominent NPCs in the game, appearing with a fairly significant role in all three acts, and who's been demonstrated to be an unquestionable heroic figure all along, Florrick deserved better than what she got in this blatantly lazy, formulaic scene.

And that's the answer to the question of 'why is this scene so bad?' - lazy, formulaic writing.

That's also probably the answer to any 'why is this Act 3 moment and/or NPC interaction so clunky?' question. This confrontation is Like That because it's how every every NPC Confrontation is: someone is willing to kill you for variably logical reasons, unless you talk your way out of it, and the end result is only nominally different, so it was pointless from the jump. It's the illusion of drama and conflict and a plot twist, not real drama and conflict and plot twist. Of course she (andWyllcoughcough) isn't safe from the "uh oh this game isn't done but we're shipping it anyway so we better make this story beat messy, both under-and over-whelming, and confusing to match the overall tone of Act 3" curse.

So you might then move on to, "okay, well, what's the in-universe explanation for this? How can we make it make sense, considering what we know about Florrick?"

I won't give them credit for implying anything they didn't bother to imply, even though they could have gone several other routes with about 2 lines of better dialogue and a simple animation. So, I think the only true, canonical reason Florrick does this is exactly what's presented in the text. She was approached by "Lady" Mizora, a stranger, told a lie, only half-believed it, slapped a fuckass hood on over her very distinctive freakum dress, went on the hunt, and ambushed the party in front of like 50 human, 5 cat, and 3 Steel Watch witnesses even though she's a fugitive marked for execution.

That's it. There's no further context. Again, nothing implied. As you can tell by this entire series, I will read into anything, and there's simply nothing to read into here.

No indication that Mizora charmed or is controlling Florrick, a simple explanation that could have been easily been introduced with about 1 line, a special effect, and a mocap of her "snapping out of it."

No revelation that "Lady" Mizora has been posing as a patriar and pulling strings in Baldur's Gate for the last seven years, working closely with and maybe kissin haha jk... unless Florrick, making it perfectly reasonable why she'd believe Mizora over Wyll, who's been not only missing BUT cavorting with devils for those same seven years, which is ironic because Florrick had unknowingly been doing the same thing (juicy!). (more thoughts on this)

There's not even really a feeling that Florrick, who again did all that mentioned above for Ulder and her city, is simply just so heartbroken and grieving and demoralized that she's experiencing a mental breakdown and a critical lapse in judgement, grasping at anything to make it make sense or to make her feel in control again, even if she has her doubts deep down. Again, this could have easily been written in with a few lines and some body language. I feel like this is what they thought they did, but the fact is they didn't even though it would have been easy and cost basically 0 extra resources or time.

Clearly, this scene got rubber-stamped because they (painfully correctly) assumed that nobody would care about Wyll's storyline at this point, and his supporting character Florrick with it. They probably just figured that we'd all forget how wack it was when we continued the quest and got gagged by the Emporer being a gay dragon-fucker and also Balduran.

So, what would have made this scene/part of the quest better?

To be clear, better is a pretty low bar as the canonical version full-on sucks. The above suggestions are only what could have made this specific scene (Florrick Confronts Wyll About Killing His Father) better. But really, Wyll's quest, as we all know, needs an overhaul. So, below is what's overall needed to make Wyll's entire quest in Act 3 better.

maintain Florrick's characterization (this post is about Florrick after all)

give Wyll a chance to be a hero in his own story

actually utilize Mizora, who's truly been pretty pointless all this time

provide a sense of stakes--it has to matter what happens

get everything the fuck away from that fucking magic show

I had a whole alternative Act 3 storyline written to suggest, Boss Fight Mizora Avernus and all, but realized just before posting that it doesn't work because it ends with Wyll destroying his pact, and he does sort of need that to remain a warlock for the endgame (being forced to re-class at the 11th hour would be a bit of a bold move). But trust me it was cool and better than what we got.

#bg3 spoilers #bg3 #florrickology #counsellor florrick #wyll ravengard #ulder ravengard #mizora #this one gets real tags bc it's an actual critique and not a simp post about her hips this time

[rayroseu]

(pure observation theory and rambles)

This year's Halloween event is full of ribbons that looks like strings and they're all falling apart...

Are Halloween Events just Book 7 foreshadows??? I wonder if someday we'll actually have a Sleeping Beauty Inspired Halloween Event(On Briar Valley)? Malleus stated that they have Halloween there after all...

Also back to the string-like ribbon and the boys acting as puppets... In Pinocchio, the wooden puppet became alive because Gepetto (the old man) had a desperate wish of having a son. Of having a family... If we relate that to Book 7, it matches the motive of Malleus not wanting to lose his family so he has a desperate wish that he made come true...

but in result, it feels like Malleus is just treating us like puppets on a strings with how forceful he is in 'sending everyone to sleep so that they'll become heroes' and add to the fact that he is the only one able to be sentient over this sleeping spell...

So he's like the audience and we're his actors for his own entertainment...

The fact that A FAIRY is the one behidn the spell of making Pinocchio alive too... its really just Book 7 isnt it...

The cards illustration shows that the ribbons/strings are falling apart... I know that its probably a given that everyone will wake up from Malleus' Overblot but I'm really curious as to HOW... ig its still too early to speculate since Overblot Malleus is too overpowered... Maybe this event will give us clues about it?!

There are strings snapping at the trailer after all👀

My favorite observation from Ace's card is that He's surrounded by clocks!! He's referencing Deuce's SSR as well from the Clocktown... But this time he's with Lilia as opposed to Deuce and Silver !!

Ramshackle and Diasomnia parallels... Ace and Deuce as Yuu's 'knights' and Silver and Lilia as Malleus' 'family'!

So maybe there is hope that Ace and Deuce will someway join us with Silver and Sebek in helping Malleus to "wake up from his overblot?" (I don't really want to say 'to fight Malleus Overblot' XD)

I feel like for this event we'll be Jiminy the Cricket, being the voice of conscience for this misdirected boys... Their eyes look clouded after all... Just like how in Book 7 we're the ones urging the others (for now its just Lilia) to wake up from Malleus' spell and to not succumb to darkness...

New hat for Grim perhaps?????✨✨✨✨🎩🎩🎩

Oh also omg,,, The main characters are Ace, Kalim, And Ortho right? They're the main SSR... THESE PEOPLE ARE EASILY PERSUADED!! They'll definitely got scammed by the new villains to join a sketchy entertainment company arent they...

(ACE YOU SAID IN YOUR PLATINUM JACKET THAT YOU'LL NEVER BE THE OYSTER WHO GOT FOOLED BY THE WALRUS... PLEASEEEE KEEP YOUR WORD FOR IT... 😭😭)

I mean I'd be fooled too????😂

Yana Toboso is too talented... HOWWW can you make these beastmen based on these Disney Characters

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twistedwonderland #malleus draconia #lian notes #lilia vanrouge #ace trappola #twst halloween #disney twst #twst theory #twst playful land #twst yuu

[stiltonbasket]

prompt for the fem!wwx au: what about the fallout of jyl's broken engagement?

On the morning of Wei Wuxian's first day back at Lotus Pier, she wakes to the sound of raised voices in the audience room.

Squinting against the light, she stumbles out of bed and opens the sliding door to the corridor outside, where she finds Jiang Cheng hovering on the threshold of his own doorway with his arms folded over his chest.

"What's wrong?" she yawns, rubbing her eyes. "Is it bad news?"

"Bad news for Mother," Jiang Cheng mutters. "Fuqin just told her about A-Jie's engagement."

Wei Wuxian feels as if someone had thrown cold water over her. In the midst of her private delight that Shijie's betrothal had ended, she had not thought of how Madam Yu would take the news: and now, both she and Jiang Cheng are about to find out.

"Did Jiang-shushu tell Auntie that I..."

Jiang Cheng shakes his head. "No. I don't think it would have made much of a difference, but Father didn't say a word."

They tiptoe across the narrow bridge between the family compound and the audience chamber, hardly daring to breathe; and then, like a firework bursting on a dark, still night, they hear Madam Yu's shrill voice rising over Jiang Fengmian's.

"Who will she marry now?" she shouts. "Ouyang-zongzhu has no children, and all the other men in the Jin clan take after Jin Guangshan. How can I let her go to Lanling without Yuyan's protection?"

"I thought perhaps Lan Xichen might—"

"I knew it. You've had your eye on him since the year Zixuan was born, but that boy will do no good to any woman as a husband!" shrieks Madam Yu. "He has had no one but Nie Mingjue in his eyes since he was a child. What will become of our daughter now, Jiang Fengmian? Zixuan was the only man who might have suited her, the only one—and now, just because he complained about the betrothal, you—"

She takes in a great, heaving breath, and Wei Wuxian hears the thud of her heeled boots striking the floor.

"And now, thanks to you," she chokes, "I will have to watch as Wei Ying marries Lan Wangji—" Wei Wuxian winces, "—and as she becomes mother to the next Lan-zongzhu, whilst my child must settle for the heir to some backwater clan in Changlun, or a commoner—"

Jiang-shushu sighs.

"If I had not broken Yanli's engagement," he says quietly, "then you would have had to watch A-Ying live as she ought to do, in comfort and plenty with a husband who cares for her dearly, while our daughter lived in a gilded prison with a man who has made no secret of the fact that the very mention of her name is a burden to him. You would have watched A-Ying's children growing up without a care in the world, and A-Ying adored by the whole of Gusu Lan as she deserves—and all the while, our daughter, who used to weep whenever she trod on an insect in the path, she—"

He sounds as if he might burst into tears. "Could you bear it, Ziyuan? Can you bear to think of A-Li's children, growing up in Koi Tower, and hearing some relation from the branch clan saying that their father would never have wed their mother if their nainai had not forced him to accept her? Can you bear to think of our granddaughters watching Zixuan treating A-Li unkindly, and entering their own wedded homes with the belief that that same unkindness was due to them?"

Yu Ziyuan falters for a moment. "Yuyan would never let Zixuan treat Yanli that way. I have often thought that she loves A-Li more than she loves him."

"Then you are a fool," Jiang Fengmian says wearily. "Quan Yuyan might be your sworn sister, but she is Jin Zixuan's mother before all else. She knows that A-Li will be filial to her husband, and her in-laws, and she knows no other maiden would make a better mother for her grandchildren. Do you truly think that she would let A-Li go, if the choice was left to her?"

"I—"

"What does it matter if Quan Yuyan can ensure that A-Li is treated well?" Jiang-shushu asks. "Jin Zixuan does not want her, and she knows it. For the love of heaven, the entire Jianghu knows it—so how could you even think of asking to A-Li waste her life with him?"

Madam Yu must have opened her mouth to say something, but Jiang Fengmian cuts her off before she can make a sound.

"It does not matter if A-Li likes him. In fact, that makes matters worse," he says brusquely. "If she marries him, she will not leave him, no matter how unhappy he might make her. And I would rather keep her here unmarried all her life than watch her in pain.

"And then there is Jin Guangshan," Jiang-shushu continues, now sounding faintly ill. "I will not speak of my fears regarding him, but you are a woman, Ziyuan. Ought you not to understand them better than I?"

Madam Yu is silent for a long while.

"If you had such thoughts," she hisses at last, sounding very much like Zidian usually does in the midst of strangling a particularly fierce yaoguai, "then you ought to have spoken sooner, so that we could have found a better match before Yanli came of age."

"I made my thoughts known the year Jin-zongzhu tried to lay his hands on Li Shuai," Jiang Fengmian replies. "You were convinced that I was wrong, because A-Shuai was too young to understand what he might have done to her; but I know what I saw, and you still refused to change your mind."

A moment later, he turns and walks out of the room. Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng exchange panicked glances before jumping off the footbridge to keep from being noticed; and after Madam Yu stalks off in the other direction, Wei Wuxian drags herself out of the shallow water under the bridge and makes a beeline for Jiang Yanli's room.

"Wait for me!" Jiang Cheng yelps, before cursing under his breath. "Wei Wuxian, for heaven's sake—"

But she does not slow her pace until she reaches her sister's bedroom and slams the door behind her, startling Jiang Yanli out of what must have been (judging by the look on her face) a very peaceful sleep.

"I'm glad you're not going to marry that stupid peacock," Wei Wuxian blurts out, the instant Jiang Yanli opens her eyes. "You deserve better, Shijie. Your husband ought to be the most honorable man in the world, and I won't stand for less."

Her sister's mouth twitches. "I'm glad you think so," she says mirthfully, reaching out to stroke Wei Wuxian's wet hair. "Who should it be, then?"

Wei Wuxian gulps.

"What about Lan Zhan?" she asks. "You could marry him instead of me, couldn't you?"

Jiang Yanli bursts out laughing.

"A-Xian," she gasps, "when we left Gusu, didn't you say that I ought to have a husband who loved me just as much as Third Shidi loves Li Shuai?"

"Well, yes."

"Then how could you possibly imagine that I might want to marry Lan Wangji?"

"But Lan Zhan is the best junzi in the world, in all ways. I'm certain of it," Wei Wuxian insists, ignoring the sudden ache in her chest. "He loves all things that are good and true, so why wouldn't he love you? I mean, he treats me well, and I make him carry my packages at the market and chase me all over Lufeng to keep dogs away while I'm running errands. I'm sure he'd treat you a hundred times better."

Her sister leans forward and rests her brow against Wei Wuxian's.

"A-Ying?"

"Hm?"

"You're a very silly girl, and I love you very much," she says tenderly. "Now go take a warm bath, or you'll catch cold."

Puzzled, Wei Wuxian drips her way out into the corridor and back into her own bedroom, where she finds a damp Jiang Cheng lying flat on his back on the rug under her window.

"No more peacock," he sighs, propping himself up on his elbows. "You know, I almost feel sorry for him."

"What? Why?"

"Because A-Jie could have made him the happiest man in the world, if he'd only given her a chance."

"I suppose so," Wei Wuxian says reluctantly. "But, Jiang Cheng—who do you suppose Shijie will marry now?"

Jiang Cheng puts his face in his hands.

"Not Lan Wangji, definitely," he mutters. "Did you really ask A-Jie if she wanted to take your place as Madam Lan?"

"Of course I did. Didn't you hear me?"

He looks at her in disbelief. "Really?"

Wei Wuxian nods.

"Lan Wangji has the patience of a bodhisattva," Jiang Cheng groans. "When it's time for your wedding, Wei Wuxian, I am going to laugh. Just wait and see."

#wangxian #the untamed #mo dao zu shi #wei wuxian #jiang yanli #jiang cheng #fem!wwx au #my fic