#who deserves to commit as many murders as he wants because he deserves it and also it is funny

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

28 / 1.7k / soap soulmate au, part 5

...

Soap stares at his name where it's inked across your skin. You should be his enemy. He's sitting across from you, your interrogator in this dimly lit weapons closet. You refuse to look at him. But his gaze bores into you anyway, intense on your eyes, your lips, the cuts and bruises on your face. He wants you. But he can only have you once you've given him the information Captain Price needs.

"Tell me where Alejandro is," he says. "That's all you need to do."

A muscle in your jaw twitches when he mentions Graves' name, but you bite your tongue. You won't let him shake your resolve like he did in Las Almas. You should've killed him on sight.

"What Graves is doing to Alejandro--you know it's wrong." Soap’s gaze is steady. You're so close. He wants you so badly it hurts. "He's not a good man.”

"You have no idea what kind of man he is," you say.

"I know exactly the kind of man he is," he growls. "I saw what he did to the people in Las Almas. He called them dirty cops and had them executed when they said they didn't know anything. Innocent people. In front of their families. Their children." Soap's hands curl into fists on the table between you. "He's not the kind of man who deserves your loyalty."

Your cuffs clink as your arms flex against the chair. "You wouldn't understand."

"You're right. I wouldn't." Soap's knuckles pop, his voice low and dark. All his life he's waited for you. Now Graves--fucking Graves, who betrayed Soap and his team and tried to murder them all--is somehow the one keeping you from him. "I don't understand what you see in that bastard."

You say nothing, eyes trained on the far wall.

Soap's shoulders tighten. "You're just a tool to him."

"I’m a soldier. I choose to follow orders. So do you.”

"You're following his orders. You think that makes you a soldier, being a weapon? No. Makes you a damn dog."

You say nothing.

Soap grips the table until it creaks. "You think he cares about you.”

"It doesn't matter if he does or not."

"It does so bloody matter. You’re no’ some pawn he can just throw away." God damn you. He wants to grab you with both hands and shake you. To hell with this interrogation--he's got half a mind to lock you down somewhere padded until you get it through your skull that you're not worthless. He scowls at you. "You're better than this. You have to be."

Cold irritation seeps through your mask. "Am I?" Soulmate or not, he doesn’t know you.

At the look on your face, Soap's scowl deepens. He's going to kill that bastard, and he's going to do it slowly. "What about Graves is more important to you than the innocent lives he took? Does that mean nothing to you?”

"Orders are orders."

Soap's voice drops to a dangerous pitch. "Look me in the eye and say that.”

You don’t. You tell yourself it’s because he has no power over you. He can’t tell you what to do.

Soap crosses his arms. "'S what I thought. You're bluffing."

"I'm not."

"Bullshit. Graves is nothing but Shepherd's lapdog. Gettin’ paid to commit goddamn war crimes.”

"Shut your mouth," you snap. "You have no idea what happened--"

You stumble on the next syllable and go silent, realizing suddenly that you're looking him in the eye.

Johnny's a man of impulse, and it takes all the self-control he has to keep himself in place the moment you lock eyes. The pull he feels to you right now is overwhelming. You're in reach. He leans forward. Those brilliant blue eyes of his see all the way down into your soul. They’re just the same as you remember--eerily vivid, pupils blown, with his jaw set hard.

"What happened to what, darlin'?"

You shift, skin prickling. You want to cross your arms over yourself and clap your hand over the soulmark on your neck. "You don't know what happened in Al Mazrah."

"You were ambushed."

You nod, remembering that night of the mission. You've seen your squadmates die before. It's a hazard of the job, part of being a mercenary. But that night--seeing so many Shadows gunned down before they could so much as draw their weapons--it still haunts you.

"Shepard didn't know. It wasn't like we-- it was supposed to be a simple transport mission."

"It was a black bag op."

"That's what Shadows do. We take missions people don't like. Someone has to step in where you military dogs won't."

"Where was Shepherd when it went tits up, hm?" Soap's lip curls. "No air support on an illegal op. He left you to be killed. And now he needs someone to blame. It's not gonna be him taking that bullet. It's gonna be you."

"Captain Graves can handle it."

Soap lets out a rough sigh. Your insistence on Graves is rubbing him raw. You could have died on that op two months ago. And then what? He'd have never met you, only found your name later in stone on some memorial somewhere. The thought makes his chest go cold and his blood run hot. It could still happen. If he can't tear you away from this bloody mercenary work, you'll never be his. Christ. He can't let that happen. He won't. You're not going back to the Shadow Company. He'll tear Graves into pieces before he lets that happen.

He fixates on your soulmark again. Why can't he focus on getting the information Price needs? All he can think about right now is the scab on your lip, the way your pupils dilate when you look at him. Your body wants his even as you're spitting venom. The fire in you matches his own, and he wants more.

"Graves isn't here," Soap tells you. "And I'm not takin’ chances. You’re not going back to Shepherd, and you’re sure as hell not going back to Graves. You're mine."

You pull on your cuffs, hating the way the possessive note in his voice makes your stomach flip. "You don't get to decide that."

"Neither do you.”

"Isn't a matter of choice. It's a matter of what you’re gonnae do about it."

You swallow and watch his gaze track down your throat. He's close. When did he lean in? Why aren't you pulling back?

No, you tell yourself, you’re not scared. You’re in control. You lean a millimeter closer. "You can't keep me here."

His eyes brighten, gaze so intense it warms your skin. "Careful, darlin'. You don't want to throw down that gauntlet."

"And you expect me to tell you whatever you want to know? Fuck my career, fuck my squadmates?"

"If you weren't so damn dense, I'd--" He mutters another string of curses in that thick Scottish accent, standing from his chair and pacing the tight room. "You don't understand what I'm offerin’. You don't need them. You have me an' mine."

He circles around to your side of the interrogation table and kneels next to you, his expression an open plea for you to listen. You stare down at him with your heart suddenly in your throat. You can't backpedal. You can't look away.

He searches your face. Even roughed up, even pissing him off, you're beautiful. Damn it, he's going to do something stupid if he doesn't control himself.

He keeps his voice low and even. "You were expendable to them. You're expendable to Graves. You're no' expendable to me." He reaches up to you, and you go still. His hand is hot on your skin. His grip is surely strong enough to break bone. But only his thumb drags along your lip. His eyes follow the motion. "Your loyalty should be for people who care about you. I'm on your side, ya wee shite. Just tell me how to get to Alejandro and I'll get you out of here. I'll make sure you're safe. That's all I need to know."

You stare down at him. Your heart beats in your ears, and his pulse hammers with yours. You can feel it through his thumb against the sensitive skin on your lower lip.

Johnny wants you so badly you almost give in. He thinks he's telling the truth--that he'll protect you. But he doesn't know any better. You're not who he wants you to be. You're not soft. You're not good. Why does he act like he can see something redeemable in you?

Being his soulmate doesn't guarantee you a goddamn thing. Promises don't afford you any more protection than you've already given yourself. You know that very well. People aren't reliable. Soulmarks don’t fix everything. They’re just ink.

Whatever he sees when he looks up at you makes something cold and sharp settle in his chest. His throat constricts. He's pushing, he knows he is, and it's the wrong move with you. He's never been this desperate for anyone.

"Darlin'. Don't do that. Don't shut me out." His voice wavers just like his resolve. He'd protect you to his last. You refuse to see that, and he can't make you.

You look away, pulling away from his hand. "I don't trust you."

Johnny's stomach drops, and he digs his fingers into the metal chair to stop himself from digging them into you.

You want him. He can see it in the set of your shoulders, how tight you hold yourself when he's close to you. You want him despite yourself, and you still refuse. It doesn't matter how rational a decision it should be to accept his help. There's something else happening in your head that's keeping your walls up, and he's starting to realize it's not just Graves. It can't be.

He watches you for a long moment. He doesn't want you to hurt, but he's not stupid enough to believe you'll soften up and come around with time. You're a soldier.

Finally, Soap stands. If you don’t tell him what he needs to know, you’ll remain a hostage, and won’t be able to have you. He won’t accept that.

"Fine," he says, pushing his way out the door. "We’ll do this the hard way."

...

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / [part 5] / part 6 / part 7 / part 8 / part 9 / part 10

more Soap / masterlist tag

#soulmate soap #mine #story #soulmate au #fem reader #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap cod #johnny mactavish #soap mactavish #soap x reader #x reader #soap x you #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x you #cod #cod x reader #call of duty #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #tf 141 #tf 141 x reader

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

The adventures of Eddie Munson, jerk

Written for the @steddiemicrofic challenge January 2024 edition

Prompt: hole, 404 words

Rated: T

Tags: modern AU; meet cute; HOH Steve Harrington; Eddie "foot in mouth" Munson; Eddie being a horny shit

Notes: based on this idea I posted a while ago. I'd link it, but alas, the tumblr search function sucks. I'll add it when I find it I guess. (Edit: found it!)

Ping.

Eddie's about to commit homicide in an airport terminal. Walk over to that asshole with the laptop and throttle him with the cord. Bury him in a shallow hole, chuck his beeping hell machine right-

Okay, breathe. 

He's overreacting. The guy's an inconsiderate jerk, but he doesn’t deserve to be murdered. Eddie's just a bit on edge ‘cause he got up at ass o'clock and now his flight is delayed and his neck is hurting from the plastic chairs and his phone is dying and- 

Ping.

Okay, that's it. 

Eddie stomps over, propelled by rage and too many energy drinks.

“Hey, asshole!”

Laptop jerk just continues typing. So he thinks he can ignore him, huh? Eddie reaches him just as the laptop dings again, grabs him by the shoulder. 

“Hey, dickhead, I'm talking to you.” 

Laptop jerk flinches so hard he nearly sends his device flying, head whipping up and- 

-shit, he's cute. Big, hazel eyes full of shocked confusion under a swoop of chestnut hair. Perfect, pouty lips parted in surprise. Eddie has a sudden impulse to wrap a hand around the curve of that throat, drop his voice, tell him to say sorry like a good boy. 

Which would be … wildly inappropriate. 

“Listen,” he says instead. “Your beeping is annoying the living hell outta me, so-” 

Something is pressed into his hand. Something rectangular and plasticy, like a business card.

“What the fuck?” Eddie mutters, lifts it so that he can read what it says. 

Hi, I'm Steve. I'm hard of hearing. 

Wait, what?

Eddie's eyes flit back to laptop jerk's face. He's smiling, but there's a distinct undercurrent of confusion and concern. Like he doesn’t know why Eddie's so angry, which is true of course, because he can't fucking hear, has no idea what he did wrong and fuuuuck, who's the jerk now? 

That shallow hole still sounds tempting, just for entirely different reasons. 

“Erm, it's just …” he starts, more slowly now, those pretty eyes following the movement of his lips. “I've been wondering if maybe …” 

Steve tilts his head. 

"... you'd wanna have coffee? My flight's delayed and-” 

If the curl of Steve's mouth is anything to go by, he knows exactly that this isn't what he wanted to say. 

He nods anyway. 

By the time Eddie’s flight lifts off, his phone is dead, but there's a sticky note with a number tucked into his pocket.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficjanuary #hoh steve harrington #hype's microfics

[yandere-sins]

The Enemy’s Embrace

a/n: This doesn’t really has any big background. I saw a book quote on TikTok and thought that the scene would fit so well in a yandere scenario. So I wrote it! Hope you guys enjoy it :3

Warnings: Yandere, Mention of Stalking, Mention of unconsenting actions, Mention of Killing, Soft Yandere

»»———————— ♡ ————————««        

A shuddering sigh escaped your shivering lips as your gaze fell from the lattice above your head to the cell bars keeping you locked inside the cell.

There were so many things wrong with you being thrown in the dungeon. You didn't commit the crimes you were accused of and never fought the guards to deserve the resentment they've harbored. They had been downright glad to deliver you into the outdoor cell despite the early-winter cold setting in already, telling you you 'deserved' it.

Why did this happen?

Even after days, you lamented the questions of why and how, but the realization—a realization that made you angry beyond measure, furious and wild—had long set in. No matter how much you tried to ignore it for the sake of your own sanity, it wouldn't let you forget the reason you were here.

Not least because the reason kept talking to you with an awfully smug grin on his face as he waited for you to break.

"I don't mind sharing, you know?"

"I know," you mumbled, turning your back towards your cellmate and hitting your head against the cold stone to remain composed. You knew. You knew so well. The man wouldn't stop talking, belittling you with every word he uttered. And you knew he didn't mind sharing at the cost of you giving in to him.

It was driving you mad.

Glancing back over your shoulder, you watched your arch nemesis, the man you hated most in the entire world, flap his beautiful fur coat into the air, exposing the free space he had underneath to spare for you. That was if you could lose your dignity and sit between his legs, allowing this awful man to envelop you in a warm embrace.

He was grinning, as always, when he caught your eyes. Smugly. Challenging. Aware. Aware that you were slowly freezing to death in just your clothes while he had cozily bundled up in luxury unbefitting of a prisoner. He had been here longer than you, thrown into this dungeon for his crimes before they even came to get you. Someone took pity on the man who presented himself oh-so-dramatic and charming when he wasn't an insane villain. He just had to wail to and flirt with some of the noble ladies passing by the lattice until one of them decided to drop the poor man such a fine fur coat to survive the cold. 

It wasn't like he could come near you or hurt you again from his position, bound by chains around his wrists that weren't short enough to immobilize him but not long enough to walk away from his spot. But even after all this time, he still enjoyed the torment of your suffering; every breath you blew against your icy fingers sending a shiver of excitement down his spine.

Sadly, no one thought of gagging him as would be appropriate for a notorious liar. Though the court believed you initially when you told them about his misbehavior—the following, the touches, the murders all in your name—somehow, he convinced them that you weren't an innocent part in all of this. There was nothing you could have done to convince them of your innocence after he charmed his way into the hearts of the jury with fake reasoning and pleading for justice. He opened his mouth, and everyone played his game—except you.

For these reasons, you hated him. And for your rejection, he loved you.

He could have had anyone, even a noble knight or the princess of the kingdom. But he wanted you, specifically, and preferably on your knees, begging for him. His taunting invitation to a warm huddling under the fur was just another way to torment you. He simply wanted to have you just because he decided you belonged to him, and crush your mind to fill it with the same insanity as his.

You had fought him for years. You barely escaped him on so many occasions. But while it had felt like victory to see him being dragged off by guards to his new home, the outdoor cell you hope he'd never escape from, in the end, it had all been in vain. And as you stood in the cell, facing the grey stone wall, this realization was the hardest to accept in all your life.

Because you were really fucking cold.

Even if you had thought about the possibility of yourself dying while getting rid of this lunatic, the thought still pained you. Things had gone wrong many times, but you always made it. You wanted to live. You fought so hard for your freedom and to survive. How could you possibly just throw it out now and allow him to lure you into his grasp?

"What must I do to make you come here and stop being so wary of me? When have I ever done something for you to hate me so?"

Even when he let out a defeated sigh before he spoke, his voice was nothing but mockery. He once again played the role of a savior. A gentleman, a soft-hearted soul in a cruel world. He was right that the world was a cruel place, especially for a genuine and kind person like you. But if you needed saving, you didn't want it to be from an actor who played the role of the selfless hero while grinning at the blood on his own hands.

"I'm good," you replied coldly, much like you were feeling. Hugging your body, you sunk to the ground, rocking yourself back and forth while trying to ignore the annoying villain on the other side of the cell. Closing your eyes, you tried to imagine the summer sun shining down, warming your skin instead of the cold winter breeze ramming into you. Things would have been much easier if he had stopped talking.

"Not to unnerve you, but despite always being stunningly beautiful, the color of your lips is slowly making me nervous, too. We both know you are freezing."

He just wouldn't shut up.

"I. Don't. Want. You. Near. Me," you repeated the same phrase you've been telling him from day one. A phrase he usually liked to ignore and keep sputtering. However, not this time, and suspicion forced you to open one eye to see what he was doing as he didn't reply.

He was simply staring at you. Blankly, unnervingly. You had to look away because his unblinking eyes were unsettling to look into, wide like those of cats staring at an object of desire but void of the empathy of a human.

"Frankly, I don't care what you want," he muttered quietly, barely audible over the howling of the wind. "But if I beg you to come here and let me warm you, will that help? Would you stop torturing me with that pitiful sight of you if I pleaded and said 'please' and 'pretty please'? If I could, I would already be by your side regardless of if you'd let me, but don't you have pity on me, too? Pity on the man who has to watch the love of his life slowly freeze to death while he can't do anything to save you?"

You were so tired of his tirades. The endless amount of garbage he spoke as easily and freely as a bard sang of overdramatized adventures of heros without flinching about their lies. "Please," he breathed. "Please let me warm you."

Another shiver ran through you—from the cold or the desperation in his voice, you weren't sure—but you didn't move from your seat. Didn't give him the gratification of acknowledging him even if your body began to burn from the cold. You heard the rustling of chains, and when you finally looked up, you could see him twist and turn his wrists in the cuffs, trying to loosen them somehow. Only when he noticed your gaze on him did he change from fighting the restraint to giving in.

Letting his hands sink to the ground as far as the chains allowed, he kneeled on all fours before reaching up one hand, ignoring how the cuff cut off the blood flow to his hand. He could never reach you, but he was still trying. No matter what, he never ceased to pursue you, even in the most impossible situations. It made you shiver even more to know the person that selfishly claimed you as his, had the determination of a starving lion to get what he wanted even when he was chained and immobilized.

"I'm begging you," your enemy emphasized. "I'm begging you to let me help you. Let me hold you, so we can survive this together—or die trying. Together. Don't die so far away from me where I can't reach you. Can't even follow you... I can't even hold your hand. Please don't leave me like this. Please just... forgive me. Have mercy on my unworthy, oppressed heart."

Your eyelids were growing weary from the cold, and your mind even more so from his words. But as your movements slowly stilled, conflicting, old thoughts came to mind. Thoughts that you had chugged into the deepest drawer of your mind after he had been imprisoned. Thoughts you hoped never to have to resurface.

I'll survive this. I can escape him no matter what happens. This is not the end.

Slowly, weakly, your arm stretched out. The realization turned your enemy's expression into a surprised one, then he lept forward, ignoring any restraint and the impact on his body as he reached for your hand. His fingers barely grazed yours, but as you collapsed forward, he managed to snatch your wrist, keeping your face from hitting the dirty ground you two were seated on.

And before you knew it, you were enveloped in warmth.

He shifted all around you for a while until your feet were tugged in and under his legs, body covered by the fur and his—probably hurting—arms, one hand holding the coat closed around you so no draft could touch you, while the other one pressed your head into his chest, his chin resting on top of your hair. Completely absorbing you into the little warm orb that was the world he lived in.

"Finally," he sighed, turning his face downwards to nuzzle it into your hair, ignoring the grime that must have built for days. As if nothing about you could scare him off. He didn't seem bothered by anything as long as it concerned you, but you ignored anything he did for once, letting out a long sigh as the warmth slowly thawed you.

"You're not getting out of this one," he mumbled, planting a reverent kiss on your head, filled with the fulfillment of his longing for you, drawing it out as long as possible. Hand reaching up, he cupped your face and warmed your cold cheek with his palm while his thumb caressed you as if you were the most precious object he ever held in his grasp. "I finally have you," he muttered, and you couldn't help a weak huff as the words ever so softly reached you.

"You can't escape me now. You're all mine. Finally. I waited so long for the day you'd finally give in to me. I'll get us out of here, and you'll never have to want for anything, I promise. I'd do anything for you. You know that."

You simply let him keep brabbling while he kept you warm. Fearing that if you refused him now, he too would reject you. That this really would be the end despite all the hardships you had overcome up to this point. You felt nothing of the worship he felt for you, for him, but if this was the only way to stay alive, you'd bite your tongue and let him confess a million more of his crimes to your ears only. You'd overcome this all the same.

You'd survive this, too.

But for now, you'd be warm, cradled in your enemy's embrace.

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW

[mrzombielover]

- slow ride ch1

feat. sinner!adam x fem!hotel worker!reader

series masterlist | next chapter

warnings: NSFW, enemies to fuckbuddies, adam and reader both suck, unhealthy relationships, size kink oooops, light degradation

a/n: oh my god this is so self indulgent. something is fr wrong with me bc all my favorite men are irrevocably fucked up and toxic and emotionally damaged and would treat me like shit teehee

wc: 2.2k

“You took my shame and you took my pride / And now you gonna take me for a slowride”

When even Charlie is trepidatious about checking someone in to the hotel, you know they’ve fucked up bad.

Adam had shown up, tail between his legs, admitting something about how he’s “desperate enough to try anything,” even this “stupid delusional humiliating hotel.”

Charlie, who’s more like an angel than Adam ever was, had ultimately decided that he could stay. After a lengthy and heated discussion, she’d reminded the group that the hotel’s policy states that everyone deserves a chance at redemption, regardless of the sins they’ve committed. Considering he killed your friend, you thought that was bullshit, but it’s Charlie’s hotel at the end of the day, and you’re just along for the ride.

You like Charlie, which is why you put up with having Adam around. She’s a good person- genuinely, deep down. There’s no hidden motives in her actions. You’ve not met many good people in your life, so she’s won your respect, even if you have your doubts about the hotel’s premise.

But for as much as you love her, you briefly questioned her sanity when she asked you to keep a special eye on Adam.

“…and how exactly is that the job of treasury secretary?” You deadpan.

“Wellll…” Charlie trails off, looking away for a moment. “It isn’t really. Buuut what if I was asking as a favor, for your friend?” She clasps her hands together, giving you a smile. You have to avert your eyes from the hopeful look on her face before your resolve cracks.

“No way in hell,” You say quickly.

“Please!”

“No,”

“Pleaseee!”

You bite your lip as you think. He’s obnoxious, yes, but what’s really the worst that could happen? You close your eyes and sigh.

“…you owe me one,”

You regret accepting every day. Nobody got along with Adam. Well, nobody except for Nifty, who seemed thrilled to have a real bad boy staying in the hotel. You, however, got along with him the least of all.

For someone who’d come to the hotel in his time of need- who was in no position to ask for anything other than forgiveness- Adam sure has a smartass mouth. It seems Charlie just wants to give you a brain aneurysm, that’s why she gave you this job. Even if that wasn’t her goal, that’s certainly the stage you’re approaching, because fighting with Adam everyday is 100% going to make you pop a blood vessel.

You can’t help it. Something about him- the way he acts, the forced proximity, just gets under your skin, makes your eye twitch. He should be groveling, begging for forgiveness, putting his heart and soul into bettering himself, yet all he does is bitch and moan. Constantly complaining would be one thing, hell’s full of whiners, but he also feels the need to voice every thought he’s ever had, which often includes insults and snide remarks about those around him. You’ve never been one to take that shit- though, nobody at the hotel really does. It seems to be much worse with you two, specifically, though.

The problem comes in because, as much as you hate to admit it, you might sometimes occasionally have some things in common with him. No, you’re not quite as loud or crude or obnoxious, you don’t generally insult people for fun, but if someone deserves it?

You’ve tore into people for way less than murdering your friend, showing up on your doorstep and being a pain in your ass 24/7, especially if you’re in a particularly shitty mood. Reduced people to tears for mildly inconveniencing you, having an annoying voice, wasting food, etc etc… all of which Adam does.

Generally, you’re apathetic to what goes on around you, especially at the hotel. You’re fed, don’t have to pay rent, and can pretty much do whatever you want, so dealing with the annoying, traumatized, dramatic residents and staff is a fair trade off in your eyes. Adam should, in theory, be no different than the rest of them to you. So you cannot, for the life of you, figure out what about him makes him so much worse than the rest.

You just try not to think about him as much as possible. But when you ignore him, he just seems to get worse.

“Jesus, you don’t think it’s a bit early to start drinking?”

You mentally groan as you hear his voice, avoiding eye contact as you crack open the bottle.

“I mean, Isn’t this shithole supposed to be for rehabilitation?” You can practically hear the smirk in his voice as he opens the fridge.

“Why don’t you focus on your own rehab first, dick? Been weeks now and you’re still an asshole,” You snap, before taking a swig of your beer. He shrugs, grabbing the orange juice from the fridge and placing it on the counter. He walks past where you’re leaning on the counter to get a glass.

“I mean, damn, you didn’t even try today, huh?”He laughs.

“Why are you pickin’ a fight with me right now?” You raise your voice a little, exasperated and too hungover to deal with this.

“oh, uh, i dunno… i’m bored?” He shrugs again, looking over to you with a self satisfied smile. You groan in frustration, then sigh, forcing yourself to keep it together.

“…and you wonder why your wives left you,” you mumble with a roll your eyes, turning to quickly leave the kitchen. you don’t see his face, but judging from the sound of a crash and footsteps quickly following you into the hallway, you hit a nerve. oh, god, here we go…

“you fucking junkie bitch!” he yells after you as you stomp up the stairs.

“you’re proving my point right now!” you say over your shoulder.

“Like you have room to talk? Let’s bring up your love life, huh?!”

“oh my god shut up!” Angel yells through the door as you pass his room. “Every fuckin’ morning with you two!”

Adam ignores him, continuing to rant as he follows closely behind you, every degrading name he can think of spilling from his lips.

“…fucking whore cunt- whose not even fucking listening to me!” he says as you turn into your room. you turn, attempting to slam the door, but he sticks his foot in the gap and grabs the door, shoving it back open.

“what in the fuck is your problem today?!” you yell.

“it’s you, bitch!”

“oh my god- how do you care about anything this much? Seriously, it’s not that deep!”

you jump a little as he suddenly slaps the beer bottle out of your hands, the glass shattering loudly and the leftover beer soaking your socks. your jaw drops, outraged, and you can’t help the reflex to reach up and smack the side of his head.

“ow!” he yelps, and you raise your fists to hit him again, when-

“you- fucking bitch-!” he shouts. you cry out in surprise as he grabs your wrists and yanks you with surprising ease, shoving you roughly into the wall behind you.

theres a struggle, both grunting with the strain of pushing against each other as Adam wrestles to keep the upper hand. You go to knee him, but he moves quicker, slotting one of his legs between your own and pressing his body against yours to pin you completely against the wall.

then, something changes. he pauses, the close proximity seems to have finally registered in his brain. his eyes widen and you pause too, both panting, faces inches apart. his grip loosens, and a flicker of confusion crosses his features.

“wait, what’s-“

“shut up,” you snap suddenly. before you even realize what you’re doing, your hands are on his chest, and you’re shoving him towards your bed.

“take off your shirt,” you command as the back of his knees hit the mattress and he’s falling backwards. he quickly does as you say, looking up at you with wide eyes as you straddle him and rip your own shirt off as well. he mumbles a nice when he sees you’re not wearing a bra. you reach to tug off the sweatpants you had on, and as soon as you can kick them away Adam’s hands are on your waist and flipping you over. He hurriedly rips off the rest of his clothes before he’s back on you, leaning down to eagerly press kisses down your neck. you have to tilt your head to make room for the horns now permanently attached to his head, and you think of the irony of this situation.

the sound of fabric ripping followed immediately by two of his fingers finding your clit makes you gasp. you bite back a whimper as he begins to rub rough and sloppy circles on your clit. the pleasure doesn’t last long before he’s pulling his hand back, only to shove a finger inside your cunt quickly, and you gasp again. being so unprepared, the stretch burns a bit. fuck, has he always had such big hands? he’s gentle at first, as he works the single finger in and out of you, and once the pain subsides, he quickly adds a second one.

“Oh, fuck,” you can’t help the curse that slips past your lips, and before long you’re rocking your hips against his hand. his movements are rushed and sloppy, impatient as he stretches you out. he chuckles dryly, and you shoot him a glare.

once again, before long, he’s pulling away, and grabbing you by the shoulders to make you sit up with him. you whine involuntarily at the loss of contact, and the cocky bastard laughs again.

“So impatient, babe,” He grins.

“Shut up,” You say again, pushing him so that he’s sitting up against the bed frame. You crawl over to him, and straddle his lap. His hands find your ass, groping it roughly while you grab the base of his cock and align the tip with your entrance.

You both gasp in unison when you swiftly lower yourself to take his full length. A strangled moan escapes from your lips and you let your head fall forward to rest on his shoulder. Eyes squeezed shut, you wait so you can adjust to his size. Seriously, how had you never noticed how big he was before now? Prematurely, Adam angles his hips and suddenly thrusts up into you, making you cry out in pain and pleasure.

“Oh you like that, bitch? Huh?” He says teasingly, running his hands up and down your back before moving his hips again.

“You have seriously got to learn to be quiet,” You retort through gritted teeth, reaching up to pull his hair from the roots. He lets out a groan, followed by a more pathetic whine as you begin to move on his length.

It must be all the pent up emotion, because you’re very quickly unable to speak beyond a few curses and wanton moans. Adam however, can’t seem to stop talking. Mumbling about how good you feel- for a whore, how he didn’t think you’d be so tight, how you’re so fucking sexy he wishes he’d done this sooner.

“Ugh, Adam- shut up!” You groan as you move desperately. He whines as you pull his hair again for emphasis, biting his lip as you feel his hips snap up into yours.

“Oh, god-“ You’re squealing, back arching as you can feel your whole body tense. You’re on top, but as you grow more limp, he’s holding you upright as he roughly fucks into you. “I’m close!” You warn, and it comes out a strangled sob.

You’re so, so close. Euphoria clouds your brain, and collapse onto him as he continues to hold you up to thrust into you.

You fall backwards, and Adam follows, caging you underneath him as he chases his own release now.

“oh- fuck- don’t stop!” You’re practically screaming as your orgasm crashes over you, and you wrap your arms around and claw at Adam desperately, fingernails leaving marks on his fleshy back. You only faintly register the breathless laugh he lets out at your state as he now pounds into you.

He slams into you with an intensity that forces the air out of your lungs, and even Adam can’t form thoughts or speak anymore.

“Oh, fu-uuck, fuck, fuck, oh my god,” He can’t believe the noises that are coming from him, but he also can’t find it in himself to care when you feel this good. You’re so sensitive, and still tight from your previous climax, and he can feel your pulse in the walls of your cunt as you clench around him.

Pleasure quickly turns to overstimulation, and you moan his name again, reaching up to pull at his hair, horns, wings, anything, as tears begin to prick at your eyes. Hearing you moan his name, seeing the look on your face, knowing he’s the one doing this to you is what he needed to send him over the edge.

“o-oh my god-“ he groans, hips stuttering as he presses his body as close to yours as possible, spilling his cum deeply inside of you with an actual moan.

He stays still for a moment, both of your breathing labored, sweat making your hair stick to your foreheads and necks, but you stay holding eachother. While both your brains are still fuzzy, thoughts muddled from the aftershocks, he takes a hand up and wipes your hair away from your face, and the tears from your eyes.

Eventually, he sits up and pulls out of you, rolling over to lay next to you on the bed. Neither of you say anything, too fucked out to think of the repercussions from your actions.

#!my stuff #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #adam x reader #ok how do i tag this… #first man adam #first man adam x reader #idfk idc #!not sfw #female reader #this is like so cringe LMFAO #it’s ok tho idc😜

[momentomori24]

I swear to God, Twitter being able to accumulate so many brain-dead, malicious, pseudo intellectual low lives all in one place at the same time is a phenomenon worthy of being studied under a microscope in a science lab. And no, that is not a compliment.

Thankfully people have already spoken out against this bullshit-- the fact that people needed to is already maddening to think about-- but as someone who got the basic gist of what happened literally yesterday I'll also put my voice out there: Don't you fucking dare try to paint Hbomb as a murderer over this situation.

Somerton may be a lying, misogynistic plagiarist and conman, but he obviously doesn't deserve to die and while I do make fun of the guy, I genuinely hope that he continues to have a life after the dust has settled on everything. Not on YouTube or any social media platform for a long time at least, but just a life nontheless. I don't wish what he's potentially going through on anyone, and I hope that he makes it through this. But regardless of if he does or doesn't-- and God forbid he doesn't-- none of this is Hbomb's fault. It's not his fault, or Kat's fault, or Jessie's fault (because apparently there's people blaming her too cuz WHY NOT), or anybody's fault. All they did was call out his actions, hold him accountable for the harm he's done. They have done nothing to deserve having to carry this on their shoulders should the worst happen. They did nothing wrong. They didn't kill James (he's not confirmed dead yet either btw). They are not murderers. And to the people saying they are: say those words out loud, listen how they sound like, and re-evaluate. Just cease.

And to people like this:

''Oh I'm not blaming him for anything I'm just blaming him for what his audience did because according to HIM you're responsible for your audience'' Yeah, you people can shut your mouths too. Of course you're responsible for your audience, and that includes Hbomb too. However, your tiny, godless little monkey brain can't see why your argument is still rubbish even with that in mind. The difference between James, Internet Historian and Hbomb is that Hbomb never promoted problematic behaviour to his audience. If you promote problematic shit like harassment or misogyny or racism, then yeah, you're absolutely responsible for how your behaviour influences your audience. But that's not what he did. He made it very clear where he stood on those things, literally stating that ''if anyone were to harass Somerton on his behalf they are worse than him and will not see the light of heaven''. He's done his part in making it clear that harassment is wrong, so if someone went out of their way to go against that and harass James anyway that doesn't reflecf on him at all. Also, what the hell do you mean ''hatemobbed'' to suicide? I don't doubt there are people who went to extremes because those bad apples always exist, but most of the things I've seen are valid critisisms, memes and call outs about that guy. If holding people accountable for their actions and poking fun at them a little counts as 'hatemobbing'' (which has Filip calling his critics a ''lynch mob'' energy tbh) what the hell do you call actual hatemobbing then? Do we just let people continue being shitty because calling them out ''damages their mental health'' or ''drives them to suicide'' then? Is that a world you want to live in?

Same thing goes for people like this:

Criticing someone for their objectively bullshit content and wanting them dead are two seperate things. What the actual hell is wrong with you. The plagiarist in question is a person. Those ''harshest critics'' are still people. And because we're people, we care. I'd rather James pump out more plagiarised slop than commit suicide. I'd still hate him for it, but I'd prefer him being alive over the alternative any day. We all do. None of us would sleep easier knowing he's dead just because he wouldn't be ''committing the cardinal sin of putting out a 'pure content mill' video'' because someone taking their own life is horrific-- especially Hbomberguy, how dare you even try to imply that?

And this gets me to the reason I'm furiously typing all this out in the first place: Hbomb is the fucking victim here, so stop treating him like he isn't. He tried making things as right as possible by compensating those that were burned by James through a video where he revealed everything there needs to be known about the guy so that less people fall victim to his actions and lies. To just ignore the harm James was causing while he had the evidence to prove it and platform too big to threaten into non existence should he speak out would've been bad. So he didn't. He did the right thing by sticking with the people James had stolen from, giving them a voice and making them known after they've been scrubbed from the picture by decidedly being uncredited for their works or bullied into silence. He shouldn't have to deal with this for doing the right thing. He shouldn't be labelled a murderer for doing the right thing. He shouldn't have to have the death of a man on his conscience for doing the right thing. People claiming otherwise are obviously wrong, but I can't imagine what all this must feel like right now. Because even tho they're wrong, guilt isn't a rational thing, and I know that if I were in his position I'd still feel like a morally bankrupt individual were the worst to happen even if I knew that it was not my fault. This isn't a funny story. So to add to this dumpsterfire by using it as a prop to bash on a creator you don't like and immediately write Somerton off as dead even when he's not even been confirmed dead yet to do that shows how little these people actually care about the thing they're talking about. They don't care a guy potentially killed himself-- what they care about is using it to paint Hbomb in a bad light because they don't like him. Here they are, posting memes and ill jokes about this very delicate situation while barely a day since the news broke out had passed. It's opportunistic, it's sickening, and literally the exact thing he criticised in his video when talking about 'content mills'. Like, I know none of these clowns bothered to actually watch it, but have some self-awareness. And some shame too, while you're at it.

This long story short: I'm writing this to contribute to the narrative not getting twisted to make Hbomb out to be the villian. Same goes for everyone else. Don't let these people paint them as the villians. If I see another person pull this shit again I will literally bite you and shred you into salad and spit you back out because I hate you so much and I mean that wholeheartedly.

To Hbomb: you will never see this but if you do, take care of yourself.

To the asshats this post is about: Delete your account. Cease all together. Stop talking about this. Just leave him the fuck alone.

#hbomberguy #james somerton #this post took me ages to finish and really grinds my gears #i would not survive on that hellscape with people like this holy shit #really hope this situation turns out for the best #i wrote this while i was frustrated and sleep deprived so apologies for unnoticed grammar i'll correct it later #i'll be keeping my eyes peeled for any updates on this situation this is actually getting scary

[celluloidbroomcloset]

I came across a few posts noting that Ed should not have told Stede not to kill Ned Low, which got me thinking...

I don't really agree with that. That entire scene, both Ed's decision and Stede's decision, is complicated with a lot of different things, but none of them quite so much as the shared knowledge, and pain, of both men. (Yeah, I'm not capable of not writing an essay.)

Stede is the only one who knows about Ed's father. Ed tells himself-as-Hornigold that he never told anyone about killing his father, and Hornigold reminds him: "But you did, though, didn't you? And he left you." Stede is also the only one who knows Ed really doesn't kill - that he, by his own admission, outsources the killing to others. The murder of his father is the center of Ed's self-loathing, and is the thing that he relates, in his conversation with Hornigold, most directly to Stede leaving him.

Low's insults don't affect Ed much; he's heard them before, he knows what's behind them. But Stede has been watching Low hurt people and things he loves - Ed, the crew, the ship itself - without being able to do anything about it. He successfully uses his "people positive management style" to get Low's crew to turn on him, but the problem of Low himself remains and cannot be eliminated in the same way.

Low calling Ed a "lowborn dirtbag" is what finally makes Stede snap, and one could argue that his response is more or less automatic. It's certainly emotional. There's nothing he could say to Low to put him in his place, as he did with the aristocrats in "Dressing Well." It wouldn't work; he cannot meet Low on a level playing field and use the same weapons against him, because Low's whole thing is being a bully and Stede is not a bully. Everyone, including Ed, is surprised when Stede actually draws his sword. But by the time he's done it, there's no going back.

Low obviously reads people quite well, and like many bullies he can suss out the places that will hurt others the most - he knows that torturing Stede will hurt Ed more than torturing Ed. He knows that insulting Ed will hurt Stede more than anything he could say to Stede himself. And he hits on Stede's fears about his masculinity and especially Ed's feelings about him. Low is another in a long line of bullies (Nigel, Chauncey, his father) from Stede's class, and he manages to hit exactly the sore spot, the fear that Ed only loves Stede because of his "bumbling amateur status."

Stede absolutely believes the things that others say about him. In the moment, Stede reads Ed's statement not to kill Low in exactly the way that Low wants him to - as a desire to keep him docile, pure, a pet. Not a real pirate, not a real man. He struggles with it - having gone so far as to hold Low at swordpoint and to force him onto the plank, it's hard to back down. His crew egg him on - Low does indeed deserve to die for what he's done. But when Stede kills Low, to the cheers of the crew, no one but the audience can see his face - the horror and shock at what he's done, as the memories of his childhood shoot across his mind.

As soon as Stede's actually committed the murder, he realizes the true meaning behind Ed's words, and it's this, combined with the shock of having truly, directly, and deliberately killed a man, that sends him running back to his cabin. Stede sees himself as a child, the boy who just wanted to pick flowers, splattered with blood from "men's work." He cannot go back now; he's made a choice, and he murdered a man. He does exactly what he's done each time his own shame has become too much for him, and hides himself.

But when Ed comes to his room, he directly relates it to his own trauma - "I was a wreck after my first kill as well. Well, it was my dad..." He's there not to shame Stede either for his violence or for his self-perceived weakness, but to be present for him.

That traumatic past is part of what unites them. Stede was forced to witness death and was told it was what men do; Ed committed murder, and has been haunted by it ever since. Ed sees the potential of the same thing happening to Stede - being so overcome with guilt and shame at actively committing murder that he suppresses and remakes his self to avoid coping with the horror of what he has done. It doesn't matter that Stede is a grown man and Ed was a child; Ed knows how badly it can warp someone, and Ed knows better than anyone how the abused child becomes the traumatized man. He tries to warn Stede first, recalling their past, and then he shows up for Stede in a way that no one did, or could, for him - not until Stede himself extended his hand and said, "I'm your friend." Ed is there at the door within minutes, asking if Stede is OK, offering his support, not letting him hide alone if he needs someone to hold him.

I've said a lot about the progress from the moment Ed appears at the door to the moment Stede closes the curtain here, but again I don't think it should be read as Stede proving his masculinity or Ed feeling sorry for him. Sex is not being treated frivolously here, either by the show or by the characters. It is an outpouring of pain and grief and deep, intense love between two men who understand each other's suffering at a fundamental level, who have shared things with each other that no one else knows, and who see all of each other, the darkness as well as the light.

#ofmd season 2 #ofmd #our flag means death #gif #stede bonnet #ed teach #edward teach #rhys darby #taika waititi #calypso's birthday #gentlebeard #ned low #ofmd meta #blackbonnet #ofmd stede #ed x stede #yes i included the kiss again because whatever i do what i want #someone pay me to write a book about how this show picks apart toxic masculinity and male trauma and i'll do it

[autistichalsin]

@mewhoismyself reminded me of an excellent, important point, in their reply to this post; they said

Doesn’t Halsin only refer to his drow captors as *captors* if the player threatens to send him back? Like- that’s so sad!! And a lot of players would completely miss it if they were trying to romance and *be nice* to him! Such a price for healing...! ;-;

And yes, you are absolutely correct!

In all other dialogue paths, Halsin continues to refer to them as hosts, or he talks around it. The closest he gets is saying "the house that held me" fell out of favor and was attacked. Only if the player (who must be a Lolth Drow for this option to appear) chooses "so the mighty bear is an escaped pet, then. I wonder if there is a reward for your return..." does Halsin acknowledge them as captors, immediately snapping, "you would be unwise to attempt it, trust me. In any case, the house of my captors is long-extinct. Interesting... part of me still thought of them as hosts, but I suppose captors is indeed more accurate."

This is interesting, because it carries a lot of implications- but what sticks out to me is that this is both a very real and relatable thing for a lot of survivors, and something that never gets talked about. So many of us walk around with internalized self-blaming attitudes, but then... something hits different when you hear someone else verbalize those deep, painful, hurtful things. Human instinct is to protect oneself from those kinds of accusations, and so it is for Halsin, and the threat breaks something. Because it's one thing to tell himself that they were simply hosts and that what happened wasn't that bad, but it's another for someone else to say it and take it a step further by threatening to send him back.

It breaks through something, in the worst way. By making the threat, the player has made it Real again. It's not a distant memory anymore, and it's not something he can make into a comfortable fantasy; it's a real threat now, even if they are dead, because now someone knows and has indicated they would send him to face it again, given the chance*. By making it Real, Halsin is now forced to see the situation for what it was, but he pretended wasn't for all these years; that his life was in peril, that he suffered, that he didn't want it, and that he was a captive, not a guest, not a novelty.

The only way to get Halsin to admit what his captors were is to threaten him and trigger him, which is truly heartbreaking. It's like how one of the ways to get Halsin to show the depths of his care for the player/their relationship, and his real emotions, the most is by acting in an emotionally abusive manner by repeatedly saying they want to break up with him, and then changing his mind; doing this is one of the few times Halsin will show his hurt at the player's hurtful actions, as after the first time, he'll start saying things like, "does it please you to see me look crestfallen? That is the only reason I can think of that you might toy with my heart like this," and "perhaps you care less for me than I supposed..." and "why would you test my patience like this? Sometimes, it is difficult to love you."

Here, too, one of the only ways to make Halsin express that he is hurt, and that the player is wrong in hurting him, and that he does NOT deserve and should not have to accept such treatment, (and one of the few ways to make him lose significant amounts of approval at once, besides committing literal murder, and one of the rare times this is on his own behalf) is by acting cruel and abusive to him. He will quietly and stoically accept so much other cruel treatment, but this is one of those rare times you can see what a deeply vulnerable person he is. It's a recurring theme with him, and it's heartbreaking; "does it please you to see me look crestfallen?" made me tear up.

There is a subtext to that statement- just as there is for "sometimes, I think people look at me and imagine my feelings cannot be hurt." This isn't the kind of statement that comes out of nowhere. This is what arises after being hurt. Quite possibly more than once. Halsin has likely been deeply hurt by people he loved and trusted before.

There's so many layers of sadness to Halsin's character, both in the plot and in a meta sense. The way there's so many heavy implications of him being let down by so many people, affecting his attachment style, and yet that there's so few chances to validate and comfort and reassure him over this, is one of the saddest parts to me. Instead, we get far more chances to be cruel than kind, and most of his most raw, powerful character moments come when the player is cruel. It's brilliant writing, but it makes my heart ache.

*This, the monstrosity of that dialogue choice and the way Halsin acts, is why I am nearly-offended that Halsin doesn't break up with the player on the spot if they choose this option; he doesn't even lose approval. I feel that he should lose at LEAST 10 approval, to match him losing 5 approval for every time (after the first) the player starts to break up with him him and then changes their mind. I love the updated scene to bits, it fixes so many of the mistakes that they made at first, but I feel like saying something this horrible to Halsin should cause him to end things between them immediately.

#halsin #halsin silverbough #bg3 #baldur's gate 3

[theheirofthesharingan]

What do you think about mikoto and fugaku as parents to Itachi & Sasuke? Fugaku gets a bad rep as a parent, but what about mikoto?

Wow, I've been thinking about this a lot lately.

Yeah, Fugaku gets a bad rep as a father and it's rightly so. Mikoto is seen as a loving mother, and while some part of that love is valid, and I like her for being a good mom to Sasuke, my admiration for her was dented upon the realization that she was a neglectful mother towards Itachi. And as much of a hot take as it might seem, both Fugaku and Mikoto were better parents to Sasuke than they were ever to Itachi.

So, I have mixed feelings about them both. And when I include Fugaku with Mikoto as a 'better parent' to Sasuke, please know the bar is in absolute hell.

I like the fact that Mikoto was at least invested in Sasuke's life.

She was present in his life, albeit for a short while, and involved in it. She provided him, offered him the love he deserved and needed as a baby. She saw Sasuke was suffering and struggling to get his father's attention, and provided her moral support to him. There's not a single instance, however, she was present there for Itachi. Itachi, too, would have needed his mother's support sometime, that too when he was being sucked into the politics, but we don't see him getting any of that. One could argue it was because Sasuke never witnessed.. Yeah, but how was it after learning the truth not a single memory clicked in his mind that would give away Itachi's sufferings in front of his mom? It's probably because it never happened.

Fugaku was outright neglectful towards Sasuke. Not just that he repeatedly compared Sasuke with Itachi, refusing to see him as his own person and saw him as only a shadow of the 'perfect' Itachi. If Sasuke wasn't as good as Itachi in all the things, he wasn't worth paying attention to, right?

The reason Sasuke was Sasuke and Itachi was Itachi was because of Mikoto. I strongly feel that children need a powerful feminine presence in their lives, which comes from their mothers or sisters. Sasuke was gentle and remained so after everything he went through. I believe it was because in his formative years Mikoto had been there for him.

There's a lot more to explore on Fugaku and Itachi than his parents with Sasuke. When I say Fugaku was a better father to Sasuke, what I mean is that despite being neglectful, he didn't drag Sasuke in the political mess that Itachi was. Sasuke was kept in complete darkness (probably like other kids of the clan) but Itachi wasn't shown this much kindness.

Fugaku and Itachi's conversations are mostly one sided with Mikoto being a silent spectator.

This conversation in particular pains me the most in regards to Itachi. It's like he's only allowed to say yes and no, and any other disagreement with his father on the subject will not be taken positively. He seems unhappy and is suffering and his feelings as a child are not taken into account at all. I say no one treated him like a human. But his own parents never even saw him a child.

Itachi had been acting strange ever since joined Anbu and Fugaku wonders what's wrong with him.

Shisui was spying on Itachi. Did he agree to go out spy on his BFF because some random Uchiha said this to him? Or was he ordered to do so by the chief of the police force? Fugaku, most likely, consented to Shisui spying on Itachi.

Some people say this is an instance of Itachi being evil. LMAO. imagine your best friend committed suicide in front of you and some people come to your house to accuse you of his murder along with many other things? Right. He must behave very angelic.

My man's worried what's wrong with his son who's being subjected to some burden he's dealing with all alone. And neither him not his wife want to reach out to him like normal parents should.

Eventually, when Sasuke asks whats wrong with Itachi and why he doesn't pay much attention to him, Fugaku has an even-I-don't-know response.

In the anime Fugaku says 'Your brother had a hard time dropping his guard'. All of it is an indicator of how terribly Itachi was treated. It wasn't just neglect but also an additional burden of the clan and the village. And all of this is being said about a child that isn't even thirteen yet.

Honestly, I give a lot of benefit of doubt to all the characters in Naruto, Fugaku and Mikoto included. And this opinion on Sasuke and Itachi's parents is because how much Itachi is hated when, it's obvious how every single grown up, especially his parents, in his life failed him. He wasn't treated as a child.

Although, I don't like to hate on their parents either. Fugaku and Mikoto were nothing but kind to Itachi in the end. He'd have cherished those last moments forever until his last breath. Sasuke spoke openly to his father the day he lost him. He'd have hoped he'd continue to be like this with his family but that was the only time in his life he received genuine acknowledgement from his dad.

No, Fugaku and Mikoto were worse parents to Itachi than they were to Sasuke. I like Mikoto because she loved sasuke and showed him genuine love. But i can't like her more because Itachi needed support from his family, which he never got.

Yet they both lost so much and loss of their parents was the worst thing that happened to them both.

#i hope this answer is making some sense because i'm travelling so.. #itachi #uchiha brothers #itachi uchiha #uchiha itachi #sasuke #sasuke uchiha #uchiha sasuke #ask #anon #fugaku uchiha #mikoto #mikoto uchiha #uchiha family

[anxiefics]

YOU ASKED FOR PLOT SO HEAR ME OUT!!

if you haven’t watched the new cutscene for scara’s boss: https://youtu.be/1l9FktKnBAU

NOW BASED ON THIS^

reader manages to catch scara in time before he hits the ground and escapes carrying him bridal style (make them stronger than him just bc😁); reader ends up taking care of him (patching up his scars (let’s pretend he has flesh) washing his hair and stuff) but he has that blank stare until we put him in bed and end up hugging him nd thats the moment he violently brakes down like full on meltdown👍

this man deserves so much better😕

: ̗̀➛ ft. scaramouche

: ̗̀➛ warnings: injuries, angst (reverse hurt/comfort), 3.2 archon quest spoilers (also written before i played through it)

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

one step. two. his arm reached out for the heart he craved, the heart he needed, the heart he—

kusanali held the gnosis in her little hand, a determined yet soft look on her face, a silent apology. for what exactly? scaramouche couldn't tell. for ruining his revenge? for taking the one thing that made him feel alive? that made him feel like he had a purpose? or was it on behalf of all the miseries that he endured, the many 'betrayals' he went through?

wind shrieked in his ears, as he was falling, falling fast. he wanted to cry out, to grab hold of something, anything, whether that be a helping hand, or the hem of his mother's kimono. hell, he'd even take one of the many parts of the shouki no kami to stop his fall. instead he was motionless, like a limp doll broken beyond repair. and really, was that such an implausible description of him? he let himself fall, fall fast, and closed his eyes.

"scaramouche!"

you pushed your way past aether, who did nothing but stand there and gawk as you ran to catch him. for someone who was hailed a hero, you'd think that he would do something. but alas, it seemed like you were the only one who cared, just a little, about the indigo-haired man. for good reason too— he did cause unspeakable amounts of damage across multiple regions, not to mention he was just about to murder them. yet something told you he was hurting inside, and the pained look on his face when kusanali extracted the gnosis gave you enough confirmation you needed. it made a part of you want to forgive him of all the crimes he committed, though you waved it off as an irrational thought.

⋆ ★

he felt strong arms grab hold of him, instead of the cold touch of the cracked floor. his eyes flickered open, catching a glimpse of your concerned face, before succumbing to the haven in the back of his mind.

⋆ ★

"i trust you can handle this mess yourselves." you gave them a nod, before running out with scaramouche still in your hands. they had no time to answer as you were already out and on the way to your house.

why? you asked yourself. why were you helping him? perhaps it was because of your 'weak' heart, empathizing with those in need, regardless of their questionable morals. but no, you didn't think that was the case. though you pitied the treasure hoarders you fought, as they were only trying to make a living, it wasn't the same. you felt drawn to him, to his marionette self trying to break free of the electro archon's strings. maybe he reminded you of yourself. of the anemo vision tied securely at your hip, a symbol of freedom.

by the time your musing was over, you were already at the door of your humble abode on the outskirts of sumeru city. you laid scaramouche down on your plush couch, as he blinked awake. his eyes were empty, holding no hatred nor sorrow— the blank slate he wanted to achieve. a perfect puppet, to be used for the safekeeping of his mother, no, creator's gnosis. yet, after all that talk about "scrubbing away every last bit of human emotion," he still failed. he still had the gnosis stripped of him, taken away by the god he was supposed to overtake. he still was the imperfect prototype, abandoned and left to rot.

he let you tend to his injuries, dried blood (was that his or someone else's?) washed away by the soothing touch of water. he let you bandage them gently so that they sat comfortably against his porcelain skin. he let you rinse the specks of dirt out of his hair, drying it until it was all ruffled and soft. he let you give him light, cotton clothes to change into (you were too shy to dress him yourself, not that he would've minded otherwise.)

scaramouche sat back down on the sofa, long, white robes adorning his small figure. he stared blankly into space, focusing on you when you came into view. the both of you blinked at each other for a few seconds, being the socially awkward pair you are. you decided to walk up to him slowly, a tiny smile on your face. your arms enveloped him tenderly, a touch he hadn't felt in centuries. his arms were limp at his sides, before wrapping them around your shoulders. one second. two. the empty shell he once was faded, replaced with bitter tears hidden by rage for who knows how long.

his cries came in heaving sobs that racked his entire body. scaramouche's hushed sniffles and soft breaths echoed through the room. lithe fingers grabbed your back tightly, holding on to you for dear life. a silent plea begging, please don't leave me. you squeezed back. i would never. no words had to be said, the both of your actions spoke far louder than they ever could. he left your shoulder damp, but you didn't care. you offered all that you could, in hopes of lessening the agony of his afflicted mind. you rubbed his back softly, mindlessly tracing circles and swirls to soothe him.

as his tears dried, and as you slowly let go of each other, the close proximity you two shared began to seep into your minds. you jumped back in surprise, and he ducked his head down to hide the growing blush on his face.

"i.. thank you," he mumbled.

you looked up at him in shock, because did the scaramouche just say thank you? is this his character development arc? nevermind that.

you smiled. "anytime."

_________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

a/n: at first i was avoiding spoilers but i already saw a part of it from a tiktok so i went "fuck it" and watched the whole thing (curiosity got the best of me lmao) also i made kusanali more forgiving here because i feel like she had smth to do with scara's change (i haven't played through the archon quest yet so idk if its said there) that being said i am avoiding the rest of the 3.2 spoilers like crazy now lmao

#3.2 spoilers #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #: ̗̀➛ ro writes #: ̗̀➛ ro's mail

[longing-for-rain]

what do you think of the argument some people make that goes along the lines of "zuko was acting entitled towards kataras forgiveness and the betrayal at the catacombs was just a second thought to him"? According to them, zuko failed to understand that kataras anger at him was a direct consequence of his previous decisions and instead blames it on her resentment against the fire nation (the whole "i think she sees me as her mother's murderer" spiel). They also claim that he's a raging misogynist bc of the way he treated katara in the pirate episode, that he didnt remember her name when asking sokka abt the southern raiders, taunting her in the northern tribe by saying she is a big girl now that she's learned some new tricks, referring to the kyoshi warriors as a "bunch of little girls", yelling at mai and acting possessively, mocking ty lee... amidst many other things, including the toxic masculinity accusations ofc. They also condemn his selfishness in helping katara find some semblance of closure. I think a great part of this is just biased hate, but i just wanted to know your opinion. It's okay if you don't want to answer though!

Oh no of course, I think it’s definitely biased hate, because these kinds of superficial “criticisms” only seem to come up in response to people shipping Zuko with the incorrect character. I’ve seen the same people who make these arguments praise Zuko, say they love him, say his redemption is inspiring, etc. in other contexts.

There is a lot to unpack here, but I’ll touch on all these points because I find them interesting. Also, in regards to generally stupid anti Zuko takes from whiny anti shippers, a lot of those came up here which I addressed in detail.

Now, about these particular arguments.

1) Zuko wanted Katara’s forgiveness out of selfishness

Firstly, I never understood this take because in context…Zuko already has what he set out to get when he left the Fire Nation at the beginning of The Southern Raiders. Actually, let’s take a step back here: leaving the Fire Nation. Did these people collectively forget that? Zuko could have stayed in his life of luxury, watched the world burn, and inherited the title of Emperor from his father. But instead, he committed treason, risking his life in the process, because he knew in his heart it was the right thing to do. This is the character you’re trying to smear as a selfish monster?

Anyways.

The Southern Raiders. The scene which kicks off the conflict with Katara is when the group is sitting around the fire, praising Zuko for his heroism and saving them from Azula. He humbly admits he doesn’t feel he deserves the praise, to which Katara agrees and storms off. But the important piece of context here is that everyone else—including Sokka, Katara’s own brother—seems to be on Zuko’s side. If Zuko was purely selfish, he wouldn’t have cared what Katara thought of him. He could have laughed along with Sokka and agreed that Katara was just being dramatic. But that isn’t what happened.

Zuko doesn’t look angry or vindictive here; he looks hurt. He cares what Katara thinks of him; he later says those words verbatim to Sokka.

I also think the fact that Zuko made a special effort to reach out to Katara above the other characters shows that he recognizes that the catacombs incident was much more personal for Katara. Zuko even acknowledges this himself.

Zuko: Katara mentioned it before when we were imprisoned together in Ba Sing Se, and again just now when she was yelling at me. I think somehow she's connected her anger at that to her anger at me.

Zuko remembers their conversation very well. Katara’s anger towards him was different than the others because she felt betrayed on a more personal level. She shared something deeply personal with Zuko and connected with him, and felt deceived when he betrayed her.

In Katara’s mind, Zuko talking about his mother was fake. She tells herself it was just him lying to her and manipulating her to gain her trust, because that’s easier than the idea that he didn’t care. I believe this is why Zuko finds it so important to make it up to her…and specifically why her mother was involved. Obviously Zuko was wrong to side with Azula. But he wasn’t being manipulative or uncaring. He was manipulated himself by Azula, the person who knows how to control him better than anyone else.

So, in this episode, Zuko is not setting out to prove that he’s “good” (he’s already done this); he’s setting out to show Katara that he does respect her trauma, he does understand and respect the weight of what she told him about her mother. Zuko can tell she’s deeply hurt and that he’s part of that hurt. That’s why he wants to demonstrate that his care for her was and is genuine. He never lied to her. And that right there is the opposite of selfishness. This is once again Zuko acknowledging his own faults and taking responsibility for fixing them. He doesn’t even seem to demand or expect forgiveness in the end.

Look at his face. He’s surprised. He did not expect this gesture, although he graciously accepts it.

If Zuko was this selfish, entitled monster people want him to be, he wouldn’t react this way. He wouldn’t even care about any of the points I just went through.

If you honestly believe that Zuko’s motivation was selfish and he was just manipulating Katara’s feelings this whole time, you fundamentally missed the point of one of the show’s most critically acclaimed episodes.

2) Zuko didn’t know Katara’s name (?)

This one is just stupid. I’m sorry. I didn’t know people actually used this argument because it originated as a joke post and you should be embarrassed if you genuinely think this is canon. It comes from the scene in The Southern Raiders where Zuko says “your sister” rather than “Katara” when asking Sokka about their mother.

There is absolutely nothing about this scene indicating that Zuko doesn’t know Katara’s name. The word choice is most likely to emphasize the sibling relationship between Katara and Sokka to explain both to Sokka and to the audience why Zuko sought him out specifically.

And think about it. Zuko has been hanging around 24/7 with them for probably two weeks at this point. There is no way he didn’t catch Katara’s name, if he didn’t already know it. And given how diligent he was in his Avatar hunting days, he most likely did already know it.

3) The pirate episode

Okay I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again…I’m so tired of people projecting some weird, creepy sexual undertones onto this episode. There was absolutely nothing abusive or misogynistic about the character interactions here. It was a very standard (and honestly a bit cheesy) example of a cartoon villain and hero interaction. The fact that you see a female character in any kind of distressed situation and immediately project sexual implications onto it is the real misogyny here. I never see people complain about similar scenes involving male characters:

I could dig up even more examples but can you see my point? The argument that there was any abuse or sexual misconduct on Zuko’s part this episode is absolutely misogyny—but it’s audience misogyny; not Zuko’s. The canon scene would have gone exactly the same way if Katara was male. The only difference would be much fewer disgusting sexual over-analyzations of it by fans.

4) “Little girls”

For this one, an important piece of context to keep in mind is that this script was written in 2005 by a creative staff of mostly men. So we need to ask the question, is this meant to reflect misogyny on Zuko’s part, it is it the bias of the writers?

Another prime example of this is Iroh’s interactions with Jun. Obviously, that was severely creepy behavior and absolutely misogynistic. However, most fans (including myself) tend to overlook that. Why? Because it’s jarringly inconsistent with the rest of Iroh’s character and his purpose within the narrative. In context, it’s pretty obviously something the writers thought was “funny” at the time but aged like rotten milk.

Also, in regards to sexist language during fights, consider all the stupid lines like…

Azula: Who are you? The Avatar’s fan girls?

Ty Lee: You are not prettier than we are.

…in the Kyoshi Warriors vs. Dangerous Ladies fight. Seems like this is just a writer bias issue, personally. When have men ever been normal about teenage girls? Right—never.

I get this is a slippery slope, so my approach is to compare Zuko’s lines like this to everything else we know about Zuko and ask the question: is there anything about Zuko’s character that indicates he views women as inherently inferior or lesser?

Well, no.

You know what is a trend for Zuko? He focuses on putting down his opponents by acting like they’re younger and weaker than him. His first reaction to Aang is “you’re just a child.” This is consistent with his attitude towards Katara and the Kyoshi Warriors. Zuko canonically treats male and female opponents no differently. He fights and moves on. No creepiness, nothing like Iroh and Jun, etc. If they were male, it wouldn’t have gone differently. That’s why I think it’s a reach to say these comments by themselves indicate a misogynistic attitude.

Besides, why would Zuko see women as weaker and lesser when this is who he grew up with?

That’s another thing. For as much anger and resentment Zuko harbors for Azula on the basis that she’s Ozai’s favorite and born lucky—not one comment is made about her sex. If Azula was male, nothing would inherently change about this dynamic. So yeah, I’m not really buying this whole “Zuko is a misogynistic incel” narrative. If you’ve ever dealt with incels in any capacity, you know they’d absolutely jump at the opportunity to whine that their (female) sister is so much more lucky and privileged and loved compared to them.

5) Zuko, Mai, and The Beach

I’m working on a longer analysis of this but to summarize…people on both sides blow this issue way out of proportion. Mai wasn’t abusive. Zuko wasn’t abusive. They were a pretty standard angsty teenage couple having angsty teenage drama. Zuko called Mai a big blah and shoved some dude into a vase. Mai told him he was out of control. That’s literally such a minor issue, that they resolved by the end of the episode.

But to dig into this more, consider the point this is in Zuko’s story. He’s at rock bottom. The premise of the entire episode is to show how abnormal and out of place Zuko feels among people who should be his peers. His issues with Ruon-Jian aren’t even about Mai to start. Zuko was beefing with this dude before the party even started, remember?

Why is Zuko mad at him? Because he’s making Zuko feel freakish. He’s making Zuko feel like he once again is an outcast, and Zuko hates that. He’s insecure. That’s…the point of the episode.

I’m not going to excuse his tantrum over Ruon-Jian talking to Mai, because that was toxic, but consider the context. Zuko isn’t some crazy possessive freak. In his mind, this is just icing on the cake, another example of why he’s an antisocial freak compared to other Fire Nation teens and he hates how it makes him feel.

But interestingly enough, I do think Mai and Zuko’s interactions in that scene give some insight into their dynamic and Zuko’s character—believe it or not, in a positive way. Just consider the context and body language.

I’m just stating facts here. Zuko is more physically threatening than Mai. He’s bigger, stronger, male, and he’s a firebender while she isn’t a bender. And yet, Mai has absolutely no trouble getting in his business to tell him off. Why? You can argue that it’s just because she thinks she could knife him—but we’ve seen how she reacts to an actual physical threat (Azula) and it isn’t like this at all. Mai is confident because she knows Zuko wouldn’t physically harm her. He’s angry, but he never once uses his figure to physically intimidate her. He clearly doesn’t make a habit of this behavior either judging from Mai’s reaction. Also think about the fact that the only physical altercation here is between Zuko and another man. The primary target of his anger isn’t the woman he’s allegedly acting possessive over unlike another character in the Ember Island Players and several comics…

Not to mention the way they reconcile around the fire. Zuko’s behavior doesn’t at all reflect an angry, entitled misogynist who thinks he owns his girlfriend. Quite the opposite. He clearly holds a lot of love and respect for her. It’s just that…this episode is literally displaying Zuko at his most tortured, his most self-hating, his most insecure as he realizes he no longer has a place in the home he’d desperately been chasing for years after being brutally mutilated and banished. With that in mind, I think he actually handled himself very well.

The thing about Zuko is that he takes accountability for his wrongs and works to improve himself. He has flaws and even when they’re understandable, he still takes responsibility for fixing them. That’s the trait of his that sets him apart from…certain other characters.

6) Zuko being rude to Ty Lee

Again, see above. Yes, Zuko was mean to her. But again, this is Zuko at rock bottom. This is Zuko venting his frustration about nobody being able to understand what he’s gone through and how isolated and freakish he feels. None of them had their faces burnt off in front of an audience. None of them were banished and forced to live as refugees. Zuko blew up at Ty Lee in the first place after she made a comment about bad skin.

Like yes, he’s rude, but did you miss the point of that episode? If you think this has anything to do with misogyny you’re just delusional, sorry. That interaction had nothing to do with Ty Lee being female. It had to do with her (and every other character that episode) living a privileged lifestyle while Zuko is (literally, too) feeling the weight of the scars his trauma has left him with.

So in conclusion, yes, I really think these takes are all shallow and unfounded jabs at Zuko’s character that either don’t understand or outright ignore critical parts of his development and story. And considering I’m #canceled for my based misandry in many circles, it should say a lot that I’m defending a man of any kind ✌️

#zuko #mai #zutara #maiko #atla #zuko defense squad #aang critical #canon critical #the beach #the southern raiders #ask #anon #meta

[p3achysuki]

A/N: hello! This will be my first Baldur’s gate 3 writing and I’m a huge Gortash simp so obviously I needed to write something for Gortash and dark urge.

summary: before the tadpoles you were Bhaal’s favorite child, you worshipped him the way he wished his sired children did. You offered him lords, ladies even champions. Yet Bhaal would feel you slip away from his grasps because of a certain tyrant proposing you an alliance.

Warnings: mentions of murder, blood, manipulation, mentions of pregnancy, angst.

Til death do us part

The first time you killed someone you didn’t have much memories about it, you remembered your dominant hand feeling sore and the warmth on your skin and the smell, most people would find it disgusting yet you found it.. comforting.

When you came back to your senses you felt the bile your stomach turn into knots, “m’lady” you heard a voice behind you say and when you turned around you saw sceleritas for the first time. You desperately tried to explain to him it wasn’t you who did it, but he laughed it off “of course it was you m’lady! Such fine work you did of them, father would be very proud of you.”

After that Sceleritas said he would lead you back home, to your real family every night you thought about that day. It wasn’t until your father fueled the urge for you to kill that you would forget about the people you murdered, the more killings you did for your father the less you started to think about them your victims.

Worshippers at the temple praised you for your work even while you weren’t the main speaker for your father yet, so many people named you the prophet who would set the world on fire for Bhaal. You didn’t realize that your kin was envious of this, Orin thought all of your sacrifices to Bhaal was a disgrace. She deserved every bit of praises that the cultist would shower you in, she’s the only one who’s a pure blood of Bhaal not you.

Orin knew about the plan you had in mind, using the chosen of Bane and Myrkul to gain control of Baldur’s gate to sacrifice all the lives that the mind flyers would take control of. You were an embarrassment to father, no spawn of Bhaal ever needed an alliance with other gods. She desperately wanted to push her knife deep in your skull to show you a lesson, but she knew father wouldn’t allow it. Father only has his eyes on you, he’s favorite child, his prophet.

The first time Orin accompanied you to moonrise towers, she saw the way the tyrant’s eyes never left you, she saw the way his eyes would scan over your figure a smirk resting on his lips when your eyes would meet his. Afterwards when you were meant to go home with her back to Baldur’s gate you would tell her you had something to do, she already knew you were spending time with that little lordling.

She tried getting information out of Ketheric, but he would always deny it. Why did they favor you so much?! You tried hiding the affection you had for Gortash, the first night you spent with him you promised yourself you wouldn’t allow it to happen again. Yet when Gortash runs his thumb against your lower lip calling you his favorite assassin, you can’t help but melt into his touch.

Gortash wasn’t quiet about his admiration for you, even in front of Ketheric he would wrap his arm around your waist “what does my favorite assassin say hm?”

Ketheric either didn’t care about the relationship you two developed or personally wasn’t against it, he would just sigh rubbing his temple before explaining more about his plan.

After a month an unexpected event happened, you haven’t had your period for a full moon cycle. You thought it was the stress from having to commit fear among the streets of Baldur’s gate until later a cleric confirmed it for you, “our lord will be delighted at this news m’lady” no he wouldn’t, he would lash against you for letting it happen, for letting the tyrant seduce you so easily.

Orin overheard what happened and thought father would finally see the truth that you were not deserving of his blessing, but instead he allowed it “while I did not command you to procreate, any offspring you produce will have my blood running in their veins I will make them of use in the future to come” Orin was livid at this, she showed her frustration to her own butler cutting and slicing him every time he would come back.

You told Gortash about the pregnancy, for the first time you were actually worried what he was going to say to you. Instead he pulls you in his arms pressing his forehead against yours, “I’m surprised your father didn’t lash against you for this” he was worried for you, so every night he tried convincing you to stay with him. He knew Orin despised you, anytime he would get near you he would see the way her eyes glared daggers into you. It was only a matter of time before she would break away from her leash and kill you, and he was worried he wouldn’t be there to protect you or his child.

As the months passed by Gortash saw that you struggled to put on your armorer as your belly started to show more, he suggested you wear something more comfortable but you scoffed and denied him each time “what kind of chosen do I look like if I’m wearing something frail?” He rolled his eyes, hells if he thought you were stubborn before you’re even more stubborn now.

Yet nobody disrespected you even while you were carrying his babe, even Ketheric would assign guards to be with you “I’m not worried about you, this child could be a successor for all of us in the future” Gortash saw through his lies though it was obvious he was worried for you, he still remembers when Ketheric sent him a letter and a gift about a metal contraption he found at moonrise.

As your due date was approaching closer you kept traveling to moonrise towers without him, he would get angry telling you that it wasn’t safe to travel “my father demands me of seeing everything at moonrise towers Gortash I can’t just disobey him”

He knew you weren’t wrong, “and what about the babe? will you keep them safe?”

“With my life Gortash, if they’re meant to be a successor for my father then I will not let anyone harm them”

Gortash regretted that day not going with you, but his lord demanded he stay behind at Baldur’s gate to attend a few party gatherings.

“I’ll be safe Gortash Orin will be with me.”

He should’ve told you that he didn’t trust Orin with you, that he would see the hate in her eyes growing each day, each passing month.

A meeting was called for Ketheric and him, and when they arrived they expected to see you and not Orin grinning in pride. “From this fourth I will be the speaker for Bhaal’s temple” Gortash felt Ketheric’s eyes drift over to him almost to see what reaction he had of this, but Gortash couldn’t speak he felt his mouth go dry as he struggled to think about what to say.

“Orin-“

“What is it lordling” she grinned again, she knew she was getting under his skin.

“The babe-“

“At Bhaal’s temple lordling, he’s not yours to keep” with that Orin left leaving only a red dust behind.

Ketheric could see Gortash digging his nails into his palms, “we must continue our plan” was all Ketheric said before leaving Gortash to be alone in his thoughts.

You both had a baby boy, but you two would never get to see him now.

(Not sure if I want to make this into a mini series or not, but I hope you guys enjoyed!)

#bg3 x reader #bg3 x you #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 writing #gortash x durge #gortash x dark urge #enver gortash x dark urge #enver gortash x durge #bg3 angst #enver Gortash angst #tw: pregnancy #tw: murder #gortash x reader #enver gortash x reader #enver Gortash x you

[bruhstories]

anything for you

summary: tom loses his virginity on his eighteenth birthday pairing: tom riddle x afab!oc (both of age) warnings: loss of male virginity, oral sex (m and f receiving), orgasm denial, unprotected p in v, curse words, descriptions of oc's hair and eye colours w/c: exactly 4,999 words!

a/n: i just needed to get this rubbish out of my head. made up an oc just because i wanted to write in 3rd person so y'all can pretend it's y/n for all i care lol. crossposted on ao3

Tom had never been the type of person to concern himself with desires of the flesh. While most of his peers turned into hormonal teenagers over summer and experimented with women, or men, Tom preferred to stimulate his mind. That did not mean that he couldn't appreciate beauty. He looked at women the way one would look at a sculpture — with awe and desire, but without touching. 

Yes, Tom Riddle was a virgin. An eighteen-year old virgin surrounded by horny teens bordering adulthood. Whenever his friends (they weren't friends) tried to set him up for a date, he would never show up, despite knowing that there were lots of young women at Hogwarts infatuated with him. No, Tom had other pressing matters on his mind, goals and ambitions he couldn't afford to lose by being distracted by some scatterbrained girl.

However, to say that Tom wasn't interested in a certain girl would be a lie. She was exquisite and extraordinary. A pureblood with the face of an angel and the mind of a devil, who looked like a woman but thought like a man. Valerie Rosier, with eyes as black as Tom's soul, captivated the young wizard. He wasn't enamoured with her, for he couldn't feel love, but there was a certain obsession Tom felt for the witch, courtesy of his mother. Only he didn't need to use any spells or potions to compel Valerie to love him, because she was already a devoted follower.

Fixated on blood purity, on power and immortality, she was the perfect partner in crime, as muggles liked to say, and she was the perfect woman to take Tom's last shred of innocence. The wizard wanted to experience the pleasures of the flesh before splitting his soul in so many pieces, for he was afraid he couldn't feel a thing if he lost his virginity after creating his Horcruxes. Granted, he had committed his first murder a year before, but he was still human — weak and mortal.

Tom didn't have many friends. He didn't believe in the concept of friendship, but Valerie was his closest confidante. She was the only one who truly believed in him, who encouraged him to become stronger, smarter. She was willing to commit all kinds of despicable atrocities for him, because behind every powerful Dark Wizard was a cunning, conniving Dark Witch.

It was his eighteenth birthday when Tom asked Valerie to find him in his separate dormitory, a privilege of being Head Boy, for a chat. And while the witch cared little for celebrations, she did bring Tom a gift. A beautiful wand handle, with snakes carved in the dark, almost black wood, and small emeralds in place of their eyes.

"A present? For me?" He was not surprised, despite the puzzled look on his face.

"You deserve more than that." Valerie combed through her silky black locks.

In the dim light of his bedroom, she looked almost ethereal, like a phantom coming to haunt him. And she did haunt his mind a lot lately. Tom inspected the gift, his long slender fingers probing the intricate carvings of the handle. He'd never received a present for his birthday. In a different life, he'd probably be happy, give her a hug and thank her. Not in this life.

"I need to ask you something. A favour of sorts." Tom placed the gift on his nightstand. 

It's not as if he didn't appreciate it, but he didn't need it. And he doesn't want what he doesn't need.

"Anything." Valerie rushed to speak, and Tom enjoyed her eagerness. He only hoped she was eager to please him in more ways than one.

"You know what I intend to do after graduation." He eyed her and she looked at him with fire in her eyes.

If there was one thing Tom truly liked about Valerie, it was her understanding of him without needing more words. She was a competent witch — if he told her to do something, she would do it without questioning him. She remembered everything he said, every detail of every plan, unlike Malfoy or Flint, who forgot even the simplest instructions.

Valerie nodded — Tom would seek immortality, and she would be by his side to aid him. She was wickedly fascinated by that subject, despite being aware that wizards and witches lived a much longer life than humans. It wasn't enough.

"I want to experience one thing beforehand." Tom calmly said, disturbed by how tight her skirt was. Every time she crossed one leg over the other, the skirt would just go higher up her thighs. He wondered if she was wearing any underwear before shaking the animalistic thought out of his head.

She knew.

From how he looked at her, Valerie knew what he meant, and she was ready to give herself to him. She had never been a saint, losing her virginity to the Lestrange boy in Year 5, then fooling around with either him or Avery, or both, in Year 6. And Tom knew that. He didn't mind it, as long as she kept them focused, but he couldn't deny a slight jealousy. He wished he was her first, but was somewhat grateful he wasn't, because that meant Valerie had much more experience, and it wouldn't be awkward. 

Of course, Tom read about sex. Curiosity boiled in his veins, that was both his biggest quality, and his worst flaw. He even took it so far as to read muggle books on the topic. But it was all very scientific, an encyclopaedia of reproduction, with no regards to pleasure. Tom hoped he would understand why his little gang was so distracted. 

"What will you have me do?" Valerie crossed her legs again, and again that damned skirt moved up.

Oh, she knew exactly how to phrase her sentences and questions. She didn't ask what he wanted, or what the favour was, but instead what he wanted her to do, like a good, obedient slave. Tom adored that about her, because unlike his mindless peers, she followed him, while also keeping her personality and independence. It was as if whatever he wanted her to do, she wanted to do as well. Like two different people with the same soul and brain.

With knitted brows, Tom pondered over his choice of words. He didn't want her to feel like a cheap whore, although he had a hunch she liked feeling that way, and that thought both bothered and excited him.

"I want you to be my first intimate partner." He finally said, picking his words very carefully. "Before I achieve immortality, I would like to experience this human feeling first."

She always imagined him to be dominant and in control, and so it was a bit of a shock for Valerie to realise that Tom never had sex before. No, she half-expected him to be a womaniser, to flirt with girls and get what he wanted, maybe even seduce muggles before killing them. 

"As you wish." Valerie tugged at the hem of her skirt before pulling it up, but Tom stopped her.

"No, not like that." His hand rushed to hers, stopping her from doing anything. "There was a term I read about in a muggle book… foreplay, I believe it was called."

"Ah!" She grinned at him, already feeling her cunt hot. "My apologies, I thought you wanted to get it over and done with."

"I'd like to be entertained first." Tom removed his hands from her body, awkwardly expecting something, he just didn't know what exactly. 

"Have you kissed someone before?" Valerie asked, loosening her tie only a little. She felt very, very hot.

"Once. I can't remember her name." He admitted without a shred of remorse. It wasn't a particularly significant moment in his life, and the kiss itself wasn't memorable. 

"Then, may I kiss you?" 

Tom nodded. He felt her move closer to him and instinctively closed his eyes. Valerie placed a shy kiss on his cheek, then on the corner of his mouth before finally crushing his lips under hers. And Tom could feel his temperature raise when she feverishly pried open his mouth with her tongue. He admitted to himself that his first kiss paled in comparison to this one. He even enjoyed it when she took his bottom lip between her teeth.

Tom couldn't stop his hands when they began to freely roam her back, wrapping an arm around her waist while hers slithered under his robe, pushing it off his shoulders. And he didn't protest when Valerie straddled him, desperately kissing him and grinding against the growing bulge in his trousers.

So that was foreplay, a sort of preparation for the upcoming intimate moment. He understood now, and he unclasped her robe, letting it silently fall behind her, on the floor. Valerie's hands worked on untying his tie, then unbuttoning his shirt. Tom did the same, a little too eager for his own taste. He didn't enjoy giving in to earthly pleasures, but he knew he could do it with her. She wasn't like the rest of them. She never judged him, never questioned him, never doubted him.

Valerie finally leaned back, allowing her and Tom some time to breathe. But his breathing stopped for a second when he saw her white lace bra displayed in front of his eyes. It looked expensive, and it probably was considering how wealthy her family was. He wondered if it matched the rest of her undergarments. 

"May I touch you?" Tom found himself asking. Although he didn't normally ask for permission, he found it proper to do so in that context. 

"Please, please do touch me!" She whined with ardour.

He nodded and clumsily felt her shoulders and upper arms, as if he didn't dare to move any lower than that. Valerie chuckled at his attempt, placing her hand on his.

"Like this." She whispered, pressing his hand down her collarbone and guiding it lower, until his fingers brushed over her still clothed chest. "Take it off, Tom, please." 

How dare she tell him what to do? And worse, why was he so compelled to listen? He wasn't under the Imperius Curse, nor did he ingest Amortentia, yet there he was, hunched over her shoulder, unclasping her bra. She smelled so good, like roses and lavender, and he buried his nose in her hair.

There was no spell — he truly wanted her.

Once her shirt and bra were off, tossed somewhere in his room, Tom looked at her bare chest in awe. He had only seen naked women in paintings and sculptures, and they were beautiful, but she was superior. 

He didn't ask for permission this time, instead he took her nipples in his fingers, pinching and twisting them with curiosity. Every action of his earned a reaction from her, and Valerie didn't shy away from moaning and wriggling in his lap. And by the look on her face, whatever he was doing, he was doing it right. 

In exchange, she took his shirt off, still grinding against his clothed cock for an ounce of friction, and kissed his neck, sometimes digging her teeth into his porcelain skin. Tom growled. He had never made such a sound before, but he enjoyed it every time she bit him, leaving him wanting more, he just didn't know what yet.

"I want, oh- I want to pleasure you. Please, may I?" Valerie said against his skin, and he nodded. Tom didn't know exactly what she meant, but he assumed it was time for sexual intercourse.

She got up from his lap and kneeled down on the floor, between his legs. He cautiously watched her every move, because this wasn't in the books, and when Valerie took notice of the confused look on his face, she smiled. 

"Do you trust me?" Her voice was soothing, yet he felt like he was being lured in a trap.

Tom didn't trust anyone but himself, but curiosity got the better of him again, and he nodded. With his consent, Valerie proceeded to unbuckle his belt, then unbutton his trousers. He was already so hard, she licked her lips in anticipation, ready to devour him, and while the lust in her eyes didn't make him afraid, it did make him feel slightly on edge, because he didn't know what she was about to do. And he didn't like not knowing. 

Valerie pulled down his trousers and underwear, marvelling at the size of his cock. How was he so big, yet so inexperienced? Clearly he didn't know what advantage he possessed with that instrument of both pleasure, and torture. Tom only realised what was about to happen when she parted her luscious lips open, and a sudden feeling of disgust flushed through his body. She really was a cheap whore, he thought, until she took him in her mouth, and his muscles suddenly relaxed. His disgust was quickly, too quickly, replaced by pure pleasure. 

Bobbing her head up and down, she dug her fingernails into his thighs, clearly bothered by the strands of hair sticking to her forehead. Tom felt the need to help her, and he gathered her hair into a bunch in his hand, holding it back while she sucked him so good. To his surprise, Valerie moaned against his cock, enjoying the act herself. What pleasure could she possibly feel if she was the one pleasing him? It angered him, made his blood boil, and in a fit of irrational rage, he pushed her head down, hitting the back of her throat with the tip of his cock.

He held her like that for some time, until he realised she was choking on his cock, her fingernails drawing blood from his skin. Tom released her, shocked by how weak humans were. There was a newfound power in him, power that he held over her. Her eyes were filled to the brim with tears, and she coughed and gasped for air. Was she crying? No. Someone like her couldn't cry. They were tears of bliss.

"Again!" Valerie greedily took him in her mouth.

"Fuck." Tom whispered. He wasn't one to cuss, but it was the first word that came into his mind when he felt her tongue swirl around the tip of his cock. "Ugh, you're a filthy whore, aren't you?" He looked down at her, revelling in the power imbalance. 

She was a sight for sore eyes, half-naked, between his legs and with his cock in her mouth. And Valerie wouldn't have it any other way. Granted, she'd been fucked better by other boys, but to have Tom Riddle all to herself was a privilege. He had ambitions others could only dream of, and she wanted to be by his side when he achieved them. She wanted him to succeed, to purge the wizarding world of its stain.

Looking up at him with doe eyes, Valerie leaned back, wrapping her fingers around his shaft. She spat on his cock, and Tom scoffed at the vulgar gesture, yet he still didn't protest, nor did he want her to stop. Embarrassingly, he could feel himself closer to his climax.

"Not just any whore." Valerie barked back. "Your whore."

There it was again, the way she got under his skin with honeyed words and pleading eyes. But she meant it. She didn't want anyone but him. She wanted to belong to him.

"Then suck." Tom demanded, and she obeyed.

He couldn't tell where all that confidence came from. Normally he would manipulate or blackmail people to do what he wanted, but perhaps adrenaline kicked in, because pleasure and anger bubbled inside of him, and without a warning, he came into her mouth, panting and sweating, despite not moving a muscle.

Tom watched her with an arched brow, watched her swallow every drop of his seed, and he wondered what he tasted like. He grabbed her by the back of her neck and crushed her lips in a needy kiss. 

Bitter. Everything about him was bitter, and while he scrunched his nose at the taste, she loved it.

It wasn't what Tom expected, and couldn't deny that he thought he'd last longer than that. He wasn't ashamed, but rather disappointed in himself. 

"I'll give you a moment to collect yourself before carrying on." Valerie nonchalantly said, as if she didn't just have his cock in her mouth.

"Carry on?" Tom spoke without thinking, intrigued by her. She truly was a wolf in sheep's clothing. 

"Do you not wish to carry on?" She asked, almost offended. 

He placed his thumb and index finger on his chin, deep in thought. Of course he wanted to carry on, but he couldn't be desperate. Tom had to choose his words carefully, he couldn't let her have the upper hand. Valerie had already demonstrated that she wouldn't betray him long before this moment, but one could never be too sure.

"Very well." He finally said. "What shall we do, then? It will take some time for me to… recover."

It was her turn to ponder over his question, head slightly tilted like a confused dog. Then she smiled, and Tom knew that smile all too well. It meant she had a twisted idea brewing in her mind.

"Would you like to touch me? For scientific purposes, I mean." Valerie got up from the floor, stretching her legs.

"Scientific purposes?" He repeated. The books never mentioned anything about touching a woman. "Elaborate."

"Well," she began, lifting her skirt enough to expose her thigh-high stocking and garterbelt, "women do enjoy sex. Men don't like to talk about that, they want to keep us pure and virginal."

Ah! It finally clicked that he read something about a bundle of nerves called the clitoris, and that it can be stimulated. He watched her remove her stocking, and only then did Tom realise he was about to see her fully naked. There was very little left for his imagination, and his flaccid cock twitched. Perhaps he didn't need as much time as he thought. 

"I suppose I might find myself in a situation where I would have to please women." Tom nodded. "Very well, teach me."

It bothered Valerie to hear that, for she hoped she would be his only lover, but of course, Tom would become invincible, he could have anyone he wanted, and she had to come to terms with that. She fluffed the pillow on his bed and sat down, back against it.

"Women like tenderness, they are romantic beings. They like to feel loved, even if they aren't." Valerie explained. "Our bodies work differently when we aren't coerced to be intimate. That's what foreplay is for."

"I see." Tom watched her get comfortable on his bed.

"Go on, touch me. I shall let you know if you're on the right track, but you'll probably know from how I act." She bit her lower lip in anticipation. 

Tom was clever enough to know that he shouldn't violently grab her body, although there was a voice in his head that told him she might like it. He ignored the voice, and placed a kiss on her shoulder, lying next to her. His fingers ghosted over her abdomen, moving up and down, as if he didn't want to let her know where it would go next. Goosebumps dotted her skin, and Tom took it as a sign of doing the right thing, before he cupped her breasts with both of his hands. He froze, because his instinct told him to do something he wasn't sure was proper.

"Don't stop." Valerie assured him, as if reading her mind, and Tom gave in to his instinct, taking one of her hard nipples in his mouth. 

She arched her back, and he finally knew what she meant by what she said. Her body responded to his touches, and again, his cock twitched. Tom was surprisingly enjoying seeing her wriggle and writhe under him, and he took it a step further by moving his hand down her body, to her thigh, pushing it onto the mattress to spread her legs. He didn't want to seem eager, but his own body betrayed him when he felt himself growing harder.

Tom moved his hand up her thigh, up to her hip, where he stopped to pull down her skirt and underwear. He didn't care anymore if it matched her bra.

"It's alright if you want to look." She purred, a hint of desperation in her voice.

He pulled his mouth away from her chest and shifted his weight to take a good look at her, and she was divine. Legs spread, she didn't have a single hair on her cunt, and Tom was dumbfounded. She found his curiosity amusing, and she sat up to kiss him. He kissed her back with more passion than before, coming to the conclusion that she was indeed perfect, he just couldn't bring himself to ever love her. She knew, and she was fine with that.

"Use your fingers." She instructed him.

With his newfound confidence and passion, Tom grazed over her slit with his fingertips, marvelling at just how hot she was to the touch. He even wondered if she had a fever before sliding two fingers past her folds. The intrusion made her cunt clench around his fingers, and Tom's breath got caught in his throat when he realised she would clench like that around his cock. She was wet, hot and velvety, and it was a feeling he had never experienced before.

"Oh, fuck, just like that!" Valerie grabbed the sheets in her fists when he moved his fingers in and out of her aching cunt. 

It was extraordinary to hear her moan and groan, to watch her roll her eyes and arch her back, all because of him. And Tom couldn't get over how wet she was. He read about it, about how women naturally produce a lubricant, and it truly was fascinating to experience this first-hand. The more she chanted his name, the more Tom's cock hardened, and he was ready to give in to temptation. He pulled his fingers out, and he was fixated on tasting her. Would she taste bitter, just like him?

Curiosity was in his nature, and sometimes he couldn't fight it. Tom popped his index finger in his mouth, and Valerie was stunned to see him taste her slick. She was sweet, like nectar, and he wanted more. She knew he wanted more by the look in his eyes, predatory and obsessive and downright deranged.

"Tom." Valerie propped herself on her elbow and squeezed her thighs together, wanting to talk some sense into him.

"You did it to me, allow me to return the favour." He said, knowing exactly what she was thinking. 

"It's not that I don't want it." She told him, and that made him even more eager to devour her cunt. "But I don't deserve it."

"That's ridiculous." Tom scoffed.

"I am beneath you, Tom. You are on a path to become the greatest wizard of all time. You can't be doing these degrading things." Valerie gasped when he forced open her legs.

"It's still for scientific purposes." He sneered at her. "And you are right, I am on a path to become the greatest dark wizard of all time. So, you shouldn't be disobeying me."

Valerie mentally scolded herself for even daring to talk back to him. He was right, he should take whatever he wanted, and if he wanted to taste her, then so be it. Apologies spilled from her lips, and she leaned back on the pillow while Tom forced open her legs and buried his face between them. He didn't care about gently touching her anymore, he was far too hungry for such formalities. 

Pressing his tongue against her slit, Tom lazily dragged it up, pushing one finger into her, and she arched her back, muttering a string of obscene words she knew he didn't like. But at that moment, in that context, he didn't want her to shut up. Her reaction made him lap at her cunt, pumping his finger in and out of her until her legs trembled. Then he added another finger, and he curled them up, feeling her velvety walls clench around them.

"Tom, I- fuck! I'm so close!" Valerie cried out, grateful for the silencing charm he placed in his room beforehand. 

Then he stopped.

Just as she was about to come, he stopped and pulled his fingers out, watching her wriggle in anguish and anger. Now that was power, Tom thought. To have her cry tears of pain, although he hadn't hurt her in the slightest, that made him feel good.

"No, you're not finishing like that." He said, grabbing her by her wrist and pulling her up from his bed.

Confused, and slightly annoyed, Valerie allowed herself to be dragged to the velvet sofa in his bedroom, where he sat down. He was ready. 

"I want you in my lap." Tom leaned back, getting comfortable. 

"You want me to ride you?" She arched a brow, not questioning him, rather asking for permission. 

"Is that what it's called?" He scoffed at the term. How vulgar. "Yes, I want you to ride me." Tom assured her.

"Very well." Valerie nodded, climbing into his lap, knees to the sides of his hips. 

She kissed him first, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing her hot cunt against his cock. Grinding against it, she rolled her hips, doing everything in her power to make him feel good. And Tom was feeling good, but he was also impatient. His hand slithered up her thigh, over her firm ass, before resting on the small of her back.

"You're stalling." He said, venom dripping down his tongue. 

"I merely want to treat you like a king." Valerie whispered into his ear, pressing her hips harder against his. "You deserve to be adored, worshiped."

"Is that so?" Tom almost didn't believe her.

"I want to be there when you achieve greatness." She was wet, coating his cock in her slick without even having her in him.

"I suppose you proved yourself competent enough." He shrugged. It was his way of complimenting her.

Valerie took the backhanded compliment with a smile, knowing that no one ever got so close to him as she did. She even dared to think she was one of his favourites. 

"I want to be yours, my lord." She said, finally sliding his cock inside, sinking lower in his lap.

Oh, it felt divine, delicious, delirious. She was tight, perfectly taking him in, and Tom couldn't stop the moan that escaped his lips. It brought a grin to her beautiful face. Valerie placed her hands on his chest for support, bouncing up and down, rolling her hips, whimpering and chanting his name like a prayer. Her eyes were filled with tears of bliss, pleasure shooting through her body like electricity. And her face was something that would forever be ingrained on his retina.

"So big!" She cried out, feeling his cock stretch her out in ways other men could only dream of. "So good."

Tom wasn't someone who expressed his feelings verbally, but even he groaned, digging his fingers in the plush of her hips. She fucked him like it was her last day on Earth, pressing her chest against his, and Tom took the opportunity to hold her in place. Valerie didn't protest, letting him do as he pleased, which was to thrust into her relentlessly and violently. It was a good thing she sucked his cock before, because he could feel himself lasting longer.

"Tell me." Tom said, beads of sweat glistening on his skin. "Tell me you want me."

"I do!" Valerie said without hesitation. "I want you for eternity. Oh, fuck, I need you!"

He enjoyed hearing those words, to feel adored, and he realised that it was better for some people to love him rather than fear him. Or at least one person. One was enough, as long as she would always be there for him.

Tom shifted his weight and pushed Valerie on the sofa, so he could be on top of her, his cock still deep in her cunt. He found her eyes, and they were honest. He knew she wouldn't lie. She couldn't lie to him, despite her filling people's heads with sweet nothings. But everything she told him was the purest truth.

"Fuck-" Tom growled, still in shock at how well she took him. No, she was made for him.

"Please don't ever leave me." Valerie said, completely vulnerable and to his mercy.

"I won't." He didn't lie. While he hated to admit it, he needed her just as much, albeit not showing it. 

She was useful to him, and that was the reason he needed her, but Tom also didn't want to be alone. Not anymore. Because behind every dark wizard should be an even darker witch, twisted and deranged, just like him.

Valerie wrapped her legs around his waist, breath hitching and heart racing in her chest. She was close, and she was determined to finish this time. Tom couldn't think anymore, not when bliss took over, and he pressed his forehead against hers, legs quaking, while he frantically and brutally thrusted into her.

He finished inside of her, and she came on his cock, and they both felt like there was molten lava in their veins. Bodies burning, muscles aching, they laid there together, with Tom weighing down on her. He was heavier than he looked, but it comforted her. It was safe to say that Tom was a changed man after that night. Same goals, same ambitions, but with a loyal woman that would kill for him in the blink of an eye.

"I want you to break your soul into a million pieces for me." He said, pushing strands of hair out of her face.

"Anything for you, my lord.”

#tom riddle #tom riddle x oc #tom riddle smut #harry potter

[utilitycaster]

fascinating how some people are acting like Liliana’s one of the vulnerable teenagers the RV has recruited and not a powerful, presumably level 20 general who’s committed horrific atrocities in the name of predathos. it’s like saying alex jones is a victim of qanon instead one of the primary peddlers of it. I get having sympathy, especially for for the troubled young mother 25+ years ago, but genuinely. what is going on here?

Hey anon,

Something I've noticed in fandom, not exclusive to this campaign, though perhaps heightened, is that a lot of people really struggle with the concept that victimhood does not absolve you of wrongdoing. It provides context; but it doesn't take away what happened to others as the result of one's actions, even those actions were taken under extenuating circumstances.

Caleb Widogast is perhaps one of the most stellar examples of this in Critical Role. There were many extenuating circumstances. He was an abused and manipulated teenager. His parents are dead by his hand. These are both true statements. Part of what makes Caleb so compelling is that he is, on an intellectual level, well aware that he was pushed into this in many ways both psychological and magical, and that he was a child. He also acknowledges - truthfully - that it was still him putting the pieces together of "my parents are traitors, and so I should do as I'm told here." The story is about him finding a way to move forward and live his life, but the victims - his parents - cannot forgive him, and the campaign indeed ends with a very clear message that what is done cannot be undone.

But not everyone liked Caleb's story. Some felt he should have been less forgiving of others and killed the entire Cerberus Assembly for letting it happen. Some felt he was unforgivable even by himself for his actions. And some disagreed with him - including in-world - and argued he bore no responsibility, and, notably, Caleb consistently pushed back.

I don't think Liliana is quite at the level of Alex Jones (who is, in my opinion, pretty much wholly unsympathetic; I've read through some articles regarding the Sandy Hook defamation trials and this guy just wants to sell supplements and will do anything to do so). But yes, she is comparable to someone actively pushing dangerous conspiracy theories and bringing others in. That is, again, the thing about cults. Even if you're not at the top, if you're recruiting others, or, in the case of cults that do harm to those other than just members - which the Vanguard undeniably does - participating in harmful external actions, then you are perpetrating violence. You are also a victim. These can coexist, but victimhood does not negate the harm done. Liliana is sympathetic. She is also actively making the lives of many people worse.

Now, some of the problem is that there are people who think releasing Predathos is not, in fact, bad, and so to them Liliana is not complicit in a sufficient level of harm. I'm not really interested in wasting my time on them; that line of thinking is pretty fundamentally at an impasse with mine and as discussed previously I find it rests entirely on incoherent and presumptive arguments linked only by broken metaphors and rank hypocrisy. But moving on, I think some of the other people arguing in defense of Liliana not just as a sympathetic character (which, again, she is) but as someone blameless and deserving of endless patience are perhaps struggling to separate "it is not helpful to endlessly flagellate yourself over past wrongdoings if you have truly made a turn for the better" with "some people will not forgive you, ever, because you have undeniably harmed them, and you are not owed anything from them." You have to live with yourself; of course you should grant yourself patience. Those hurt by you do not need to do so. If someone is brainwashed by a cult and they kill someone, the relatives of the murder victim might forever hold this against the murderer despite the brainwashing, and I, personally, do not believe this is wrong of them. I don't believe it's "inspirational" to forgive someone who hurt you sufficiently badly except in the sense that it would be put in the "inspirational" section of an airport bookstore that really means "extremely Evangelical Protestant in outlook." I don't think you should hurt them back once they've stopped doing harm, but you might never want to speak to them or interact with them again and I think you are valid in that choice. I certainly believe that any forgiveness can only come after a sustained pattern of change.

In short: I think people want a very Good or Evil narrative about Liliana when the answer is "she's a victim and she's also victimizing others, and it's valid for those harmed by her or by those she works with closely to say "I am deeply sorry you fell into Ludinus's clutches but the devastation you are leaving in your wake isn't something I can ignore or, at this point, forgive." As Ashton says, the fact that Liliana is deep in a cult doesn't negate the fact that there's a very real chance that same cult will kill her daughter - indeed, they came within a hair's breadth of doing so - and that that hasn't stopped her.

#answered #Anonymous #cr tag

[miraculouscriticismshub]

Why Gabriel doesn’t deserve a redemption - the Hypocrisy of the Writers - Miraculous Season 5 Finale spoilers Ahead.

If you have seen the finale then you already know what happens to Gabriel . He dies but gets remembered as a hero and his reputation was unscratched. The writers have the audacity to say a teenage girl will never become a better person because her actions are unforgivable but they go ahead and redeem Gabriel Agreste - a literal terrorist and abuser - who has done a lot worse. This post will explain why Gabriel doesn’t deserve a redemption arc and how his character feels ruined. 

Part 1 - Gabriels crimes and why the writers think they are justifiable. Triggers of Child abuse and terrorism

This man has committed atrocious crimes of which the most obvious was child abuse. Mainly towards Adrien. The writers think due to Gabe losing his wife - it is justified why he neglects Adrien - it is a sign of grief. That he spends every day terrorizing Paris because he wants Emelie back to complete Adrien's family. They say he does all he does because he cares about his son. While this was the case during seasons 1-4 , his character changes in season 5. He no longer does it for Emily and Adrien but for power. He abuses Adrien even more this season by trapping him in a room and separating him from Marinette.

However his Character is ruined in the season 5 finale. He wishes Emily and Natalie to live and pleads with Marinette to make sure Adrien remembers him as a good father. That's not her burden to carry or her responsibility . Gabriel had the audacity to ask the girl he traumatised to keep every crime he has committed a secret from his own son ! Despite everything Gabriel has done to Marinette - she finds out he was Hawkmoth - she still forgives him and helps build a statue of Gabe in his honor. The writers think Gabriel deserves redemption because he did show remorse for what he did to Adrien and cried when he watched Emilie's tapes.  But Adrien wasn’t his only victim and child abuse wasn’t his only crime. Gabriel never showed remorse for what he put Marinette through (he knows she's a ladybug .) He never apologized for separating her from Adrien or for the trauma he inflicted on her as Ladybug. Even when Ladybug gave her a chance , he blew it by paralyzing her. 

He is also an international terrorist who primarily targets children. He threatened to kill Alya’s family and murdered many Parisians in Strike Back but still gets remembered as a hero. Even in the final fight , he says he doesn’t care about the innocent victims he hurted. He never felt bad about what he did. It gives kids a bad message. While I think Gabe dying in Emily's place isn’t a bad idea , the fact that Gabriel gets away with his crimes and is celebrated as a savior is disgusting. At the very least , he shouldn’t be presented as a good man and should be remembered as the villain and a terrorist. It’s a slap in the face for all his victims. The fact that all of Gabriel's other crimes are forgiven just because he felt remorse for one is sickening.

Especially in Season 5 , where the writer makes Gabe to be sympathetic by having his relationship with Emelie mirrors Adrienette’s relationship because he and Marinette both came from humble backgrounds. That's why the writers think Gabe is redeemable ,  because he and Marinette are similar and both care for Adrien. The fact he basically got what he wanted and is being remembered as a savior is so unfair to Marinette and Adrien. Sure he died , but Emelie came back or he reunited with her (depending if you think it was Amelie or Emelie). Therefore , Gabe doesn’t deserve redemption because he never proved himself or felt remorse for most of his crimes. He manipulated Marinette till the very end into thinking he was a good person when in reality , he doesn't care about anyone except for himself , Adrien , Natalie and Emelie.

Part 2 - Obvious hypocrisy

It is no secret that Thomas dislikes Chloe. However in Season 5 he has taken his hate for her way too far that he sacrificed good writing to bash her character and hurt her fans.  He repeatedly says on his twitter Chloe will never become a better person because she is a bully and has done too many unforgivable acts. Surprisingly , in season 5 episode 26 , they go ahead and redeem Gabriel - a terrorist , child abuser , groomer and manipulator - who has arguably done so much worse. I don’t mind if the writers don’t give Chloe a redemption arc , not all characters need a redemption but it feels hypocritical saying a teenage bully is irredeemable but an adult terrorist is sympathetic. Especially of how rushed and badly written Gabriel's redemption arc is.

So when Chloe does something evil , the writers say she in irredeemable and deserves every bit of Karma but when Gabriel does something worse , the writers justify what he has done because of his sympathetic motive and give him a redemption story. This disgusts me because it is shown time and time again that Gabriel likes to use Chloe in his heinous plans. Three episodes ago Gabriel was manipulating and grooming Chloe into joining his side. Gabriel is partly to blame for Chloe's worst crimes , he enabled her and put the ideas in her head. But the writers act like Chloe is more in the wrong than Gabriel when he is clearly more guilty than she is !! They act like it is OK for Gabriel to manipulate and akumatize Chloe because it's for the sake of getting his wife back. Chloe is not a good person , but it is unfair how she is the only character to face consequences when Characters worse than her are getting rewarded and receive happy endings !! Chloe is disowned by her father and sent to live with her abuser while Gabriel reunites with Emelie (depending on which sister you think it was at the pool party) and is celebrated as a saviour. Gabriel being more moral in the eyes of the writers than a misguided teenager - who also is one of his main victims - is sickening.  Therefore Gabriel redemption isn’t deserved because it shows the double standards the writers have for Chloe. 

To conclude - Gabriel's character in the Season 5 finale is basically ruined. Gabriel receiving a redemption is an example of bad writing and feels rushed. He only felt remorse for what he did to Adrien but never felt bad for terrorizing Paris or using Chloe. He never apologized to Marinette for separating her from Adrien or for other crimes he did. His redemption feels Hypocritical compared to the character of Chloe - who was one of Gabriel's main targets. Hopefully in season 6 , Adrien finds out about what happened and Paris receives the justice they deserve. However if you like what they did with his character , that is perfectly fine . I’m not saying you are not allowed to dislike Gabriel. This is just my opinion . Feel free to disagree :) . Please stay respectful.

#miraculous ladybug #mlb #mlb salt #mlb writers salt #gabriel salt #chloe is also bad #chloe deserves better #chloe bourgeois #gabriel agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #adrien deserves better #marinette deserves better #astruc salt #thomas astruc #astruc #hypocrisy #double standards #abusers are rewarded #victims are punished #miraculous season 5 finale #miraculous season 5 #mlb season 5 spoilers

[matan4il]

lowkey not even as invested in 911 lonestar but ronen has been getting so much hate i feel so defensive about the show like. oof, there's gonna be too much chaos when the season airs

Hi Nonnie!

Honestly, IDEK when the new season airs, or whether real life will allow me to watch it, but all of my solidarity and support goes out to Ronen. Jews do not deserve this kind of abuse and de-humanization for caring about their people and their homeland, especially when it's someone who actually was born and grew up in Israel, and still has friends there (he even mentioned a personal connection to unfathomably young kids who had been butchered by Hamas).

This wouldn't be done to someone of any other nationality. For example, no matter what the US or UK or Iran has done that people might strongly disagree with, including in recent years, I've never seen individual American or British or Iranian actors held responsible for their government's actions, and expected not to care about the American or British or Iranian people when they are suffering. Because that would be de-humanizing. It would be acting like these American or British or Iranian (or any other nationality, really) actors are political billboards first, and humans second.

It's de-humanizing to expect Ronen not to care about the well being of Israelis and Jews, about their safety after the massacre that was committed against them on Oct 7, and which Hamas leaders promised to repeat whenever possible, about those who are still held hostage in Gaza (whether it's their bodies being denied of having a proper burial and their families of closure, or whether they're alive and continuously abused by people who we know raped, mutilated and tortured even children just because they were Jews), about the rocket attacks on Israel from several fronts (do people realize what it feels like to see the photos of Israeli Jewish kids taking cover from rocket attacks on the ground, with their little hands held over their heads, of all days on Yom Ha'Shoah, our national Holocaust Memorial Day? How do people expect us not to care about that?) which have continued uninterrupted since Oct 7, about the on going psychological and emotional trauma people have and are suffering here, about the repeated personal (because yeah, anti-Jewish terrorism and violence in Israel was not born on Oct 7, and many of us carry scars from previous attacks) and intergenerational trauma (because most of us grew up with the knowledge of what antisemitic violence, including in Arab and Muslim countries, has done to our families) that all of this evokes...

And going, "But so many more have died on the other side!" is de-humanizing as well. It's as if you had your mother murdered, and when you wanted to express your grief and loss, you'd be told that you should care about your neighbor's pain more, because he lost five cousins, not just one mom, and five is more than one. As if this is exactly how human pain works, by numbers... (not to mention, this notion ignores that at least two of the cousins are actually responsible for the murder of your mom in the first place, and they're also responsible for causing the deaths of their other cousins)

IDK, it's just... not normal that Jewish pain and Jewish solidarity are being demonized like this. And it is about demonizing these specific expressions of Jewish bond, because even Jews who have expressed compassion for both sides have been vilified (Ronen even included innocent Palestinians suffering in his initial IG statement, made on Oct 9 and linked above and there's a screenshot below, then he shared an extra statement that was even more about innocents on both sides suffering, and he was still crucified like he's some sort of a heartless monster).

It is NOT okay if the only Jews acceptable to you, are the ones who do not express Jewish pain and solidarity.

I hope people who may see my ask reply are capable of... IDK. Even if in the past they attacked Ronen or other Jews for expressing any kind of compassion for fellow Israeli Jews, I hope these people can really take in how de-humanizing that is, and what sort of a message it sends to Jews out there, re-consider whether that's a path they want to take again, or support when others take it, and do better than they have before. It's never too late to learn and fix things.

De-popularize the de-humanization of Jews!

Because that's the freaking decent thing to do.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

#israel #antisemitism #israeli #israel news #terrorism #anti terrorism #hamas #antisemitic #antisemites #jews #jew #judaism #jumblr #frumblr #jewish #ronen rubinstein #ask #anon ask #911 lone star #911 ls

[saltygilmores]

DANCE MARATHON EPISODE (AKA MURDER ON THE DANCE FLOOR)-PART 5

After a quick blowjob break out in the soon-to-be-bloodspattered Stars Hollow High football field, a certain homocidal maniac in a puke green church donation bin coat has returned, and he's ready to dish out some sass. Shane is not in tow yet, but we need to give her time to freshen up and make herself presentable for the remaining few hours of her life.

Lane's pointless bitterness towards Jess is such a fucking waste. My "Lane hates Jess for stupid reasons when they could have been pals" rant has been reheated in the metaphorical microwave too many times already, so I won't repeat myself, but yeah. It's still about that fucking car accident.

Getting your dick sucked on the high school football field before committing a gruesome homocide can really work up a boy's appetite.

Baby you're such a good noticer. *kisses forehead*

I can't think of anyone more deserving of a rock hard permanent public erection. Wait And now, for what is possibly my favorite five-word exchange in the entire series:

The most perfectly executed dry delivery. Ugh! Sheer perfection!

Well, at least egg salad sandwiches beat the Crack and Despair Sandwiches Liz used to pack in his lunchbox.

Miss "My Virginity Spared Me From Becoming Football Field Fertilizer" has arrived with Also-Not-Dancing Butthead in tow. If the food is for the dancers, I better not see him eat anything. I will smack that sandwich out of his hand so fast so help me god (virgins always survive the killing spree).

You ever think about what a monstrous hell it must be for Jess living in a place like Stars Hollow? I think about this a lot. But I like to think that off screen he gets in his car and gets the fuck out of there as much as possible. Anyway, this is another perfectly dry one liner that I absolutely love. I want to fil out adoption papers and take all of his sarcastic one liners from this episode home from the shelter. R: You have nothing better to do than sit in a gymnasum staring at a dance marathon? J:Idk, do you have nothing better to do than sit inside a gymnasium staring at a dance marathon? R:Do you think you're bugging me sitting in front of me and staring like that? J: Do you think you're bugging me dancing and staring at me like that? R: I'm not staring at you! J:How do you know I'm staring at you?

Dean: It's been two years. Maybe you can glance at my dick for once, Rory. Has Rory ever said anything supportive of Dean that wasn't said with the same conviction as if she were a bank robbery hostage? Deany has that constipated look on his face again. Is he sad because no one was staring at him? But someone was. I'll give you a hint, it's a certain MILF who wants to turn that 34 into a 69. Lorelai is 34 years old in this episode, by the way. He's proudly displaying his love of young milfs on his literal sleeve. Listen, you could power Stars Hollow with the combined sexual frustration of these three people + Lane and Dave Ryglaski to make it extra nuclear. When nobody puts out, you get three teenagers eating egg salad and having an "I'm not staring at you!" argument in a school gymansium at 10pm.

Ooooh. Jess is shakin in his little murder boots. J: I'm supporting my town. R: Go back to New York. Oh Rory babe, if only he could, he'd be home now with a smile on his face with a pushcart hot dog in one hand while some easy alt chick rode his dick. Well, yeah he's got that now but he's going to feed her to the swans then take an 8 month vow of celibacy for some reason.

Got em.

He's so LAME. Jared: Hey AmyShermanPalladino, can't Dean get any fun comebacks for once? Why does Milo get all the good sass? AmyShermanPalladino: You can pick from the reject pile. We've got "my former comment still stands" "Are you trying to act tough, you're wearing a tie" and "You're the one who's going"

She's so horny. God help her.

Shane Campbell stars in the newest WB Network vehicle, "My Favorite Murder Victim." He keeps picking at that sandwich like he's going to find a $100 bill in the bread.

You want this poor girl to spend the last precious hours of her life doing math problems?

I guess egg salad will wash the taste of dick out of her mouth.

We heard you the first time, Ice Vagina. What is Dean even doing here, lol.

There's something incredibly erotic about this line.

Dean is like, what the hell is going on? Why is she touching me?

*immediately pushes her off*

Don't give him any more ideas, Jess.

I just want to point out that on the table behind them, fresh fruit and brownies are available for consumption. You know you guys don't have to eat those sandwiches.

Code for "I'm gonna go find the murder implement I stowed away in the bushes earlier"

#gilmore girls #jess mariano #shane campbell #shane is swan food #denise rewatches gilmore girls #gilmore girls season 3 #they shoot gilmores dont they #tsgdt #rory gilmore #I can't believe that like a half dozen people read this shit I write and don't unfollow me #bless your hearts #smoochies #I am fucked in the head #I even held back a few really insane things